At His Command

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At His Command Page 3

by Karen Anders


  He smelled way too good, musky and male, a combination as potent as a stiff belt of whiskey straight into the bloodstream. But she couldn’t back up now and show any weakness. Chris would know he had the upper hand and that wouldn’t be a good thing.

  She laid it out bluntly, not seeing any reason to sugarcoat anything. “You’re being stubborn because of what happened in our past. Is this payback, Chris?”

  His face hardened. “Either do your job or pass it on to someone else, Commander Soto.”

  He hadn’t taken the bait, and Sia realized she wasn’t going to make him angry enough to walk away from the investigation. “I intend to do my job. Just without you involved.”

  He laughed then, without mirth. “It would be in your best interest to let someone else handle it.”

  She stiffened at his chiding tone. “You’re alluding to the investigation into Master Chief Steven Walker’s death?”

  He folded his arms across his chest, the movement tightening up his chest muscles and arms, pulling the jacket away from the gun clipped to his waist. “The Navy doesn’t just casually investigate someone. You’re the one who is under scrutiny.”

  “At the time I handled the investigation, I did it as thoroughly and diligently as I normally do.” But in the back of her mind doubts assailed her. What if she had been too distracted by past memories and the fresh mourning of her brother’s death? What if she had missed something?

  “Is that where you got those bruises? Why your arm is in a sling?”

  “Yes. Walker tried to kill me.”

  He shook his head. “Stupid man. What happened?”

  “He took a header over the sponson and died from the fall. They fished his body up just after he went over.”

  “Really, in that vast of an ocean late at night?”

  “He was wearing a life vest. A vest he denied me because I was supposed to be the one dead.”

  “Let me guess. They didn’t find any evidence you helped him over?”

  Weary from the day’s events, she walked to the conference table and settled into one of the chairs. “No, because I dodged his attempt to throw me over. My hands were tied. It’s the biggest indication the events happened exactly as I said they did. I didn’t tie my own hands or wrench my own shoulder or give myself this black eye. The investigation is really just routine and to close the loop.” She thrust out her good hand and showed him the bruises on her wrist.

  He walked over and set his backside on the conference table. Taking her hand gently in his, he studied the black-and-blue marks. “That may be true, but it’s the difference between us now. You have to follow the Navy’s rules. I don’t.”

  His hand was warm, his palm smooth. Her heart fluttering, she pulled her hand from his hold. “Surely in your job you’re required to follow rules.”

  He smiled. “When it suits me, but as a civilian investigator, I have a lot more leeway than you do.”

  The smile lighting up his eyes made her remember the potency he wielded with his irresistible charm, all the more reason not to work with him. The other big reason was he’d been directly responsible for her brother’s death and the destruction of her family.

  It was as if he’d been waiting for her to think that very thought. His eyes changed, got a little harder, a little darker. “I didn’t come here to dredge up the past, Sia.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether you talk about it or not. Just seeing you brings it all back.”

  His mouth tightened and he looked away from her. “I’m sorry for that.”

  “You said you were sorry six years ago when they handed my mother his flag. It still doesn’t help.”

  He closed his eyes, but not before she saw the flash of pain and, suddenly, she felt sick for the way everything had ended.

  “You’re not the only one who suffered, Sia. I lost you and your brother. I have to live with what I did to him, to you.”

  She felt a distinct tug on her heart, but refused to examine it too closely. Yet she did finally give into the urge to reach out and touch his arm, needing that physical contact in a soul-deep way. The leather was warm from his body heat, the muscles beneath taut and corded. “I can’t help the way I feel about it, Chris.”

  “I know you can’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier to forget what we had. What we shared.” He covered her hand with his, the warmth comforting.

  “What we have to deal with now is the present. We can’t change the past.”

  “No, we can’t,” he whispered. “There’s no place for us to go at all.”

  “Don’t,” she protested.

  The warning was diluted to nothing by the sadness in his face. His mouth twisted into a half smile that was cynical and weary. His dark eyes looked a hundred years old.

  Even surrounded by family and friends, she’d been so alone when her brother had died. All she’d wanted, longed for, was to have Chris hold her. But the grief of her brother’s death tripled when she’d found out Chris had caused the accident. He would never hold her again.

  Dangerous, her longing and his proximity.

  A quick knock on the door made her sit up straight and release him. She rose, walked to the door and opened it. Her aide was on the other side.

  “Excuse me, Commander Soto, Captain Snyder’s aide pointed me in this direction. I was able to get you and Agent Vargas on a flight to Hawaii via L.A. The McCloud is currently docked at Pearl for repairs to the flight deck. Your flight leaves in three hours. He handed her a folder, giving Chris the once-over. “Your e-tickets are in there.”

  “Thank you, McBride.”

  He seemed reluctant to leave her alone. Her legalman eyed Chris and his gaze returned to Sia. “Can I escort you to your car?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Good night, McBride.”

  Chris smiled wryly as the petty officer deliberately left the door open. “He’s looking at me like I’m a psycho, serial killer.”

  “You look formidable, that’s all. McBride doesn’t know you.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  She sighed. “You’re not going to change your mind.”

  “Hell, no.” He made his way to the open door and passed her. “Why don’t you let this investigation go, Sia?”

  “I might have missed something. Something important!” Her voice was loud in the small room. Softer, she said, “I have to fix it or make sure my conclusions were sound. If I neglected to fully handle this investigation and I caused a man’s death…”

  He stepped up to her until he was close. “I hear you’re expected to get over that, too,” he said softly.

  Her throat ached with the pain in his voice.

  “We have to work together. I’ll accept that. But don’t expect anything else from me,” she said, delivering the ultimatum with a tone that accepted her defeat.

  Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was even more than ten times a fool if she believed either of them could forget the fire between them whenever they touched, or looked at each other, or were in the same damn room.

  Chris said absolutely nothing. Out of everything that had happened to her in the past twenty-four hours, his silence was more nerve-racking than waiting for a verdict. His silence was downright ominous.

  She was in trouble. Oh, man, was she in trouble, but she wasn’t going to give in to panic. Later she could panic, but not now while she was standing in front of him. She needed her wits.

  Dredging up old memories wasn’t conducive to this situation. But it seemed wits and good sense deserted her when he turned those dark eyes on her, when he looked at her as if she were the most desirable, most important woman on earth. She tried to break the spell by thinking Chris probably looked at every woman he wanted that way, but the thought seemed to slip out of her mind like smoke.

  Finally he spoke. “I don’t have any expectations where you are concerned. I learned that valuable lesson six years ago.” His tone was accusing and his eyes brooked no disagreement. It was clear he was disguste
d with her lack of support at the grave site. She was smart enough to keep quiet about that.

  His face was too close to hers and she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him kissing her. And her mouth ached, waiting a beat, then two, the tension drawing as tight as a wire. Finally he pulled away, turned on his heel and exited the conference room.

  It was a while before Sia could make her limbs move.

  Oh, yes, she was in deep trouble.

  Finally her training slammed into place and she was able to get herself under control.

  She needed to get a grip on her emotions—a highly unlikely occurrence when she was still using everything she had not to remember how it was to melt into Chris’s arms.

  The temptation of him whispered across her exposed skin. These feelings and sensations only made her more resolved not to give in. Her brother was no longer alive because of Chris. She had to remember that information, use it to keep her own emotions from eating her alive.

  A little doubt wiggled its way in when she remembered the words of the master chief. Could he have done something to Chris and caused the accident that killed her brother? If he had, then maybe Chris would be exonerated right along with her brother.

  And if Chris wasn’t guilty of causing the accident that killed her brother, then maybe…

  She was jumping the gun here. That was a big if. At this point, she had to keep her distance. She had an investigation to handle. Her baggage with Chris couldn’t get in the way of that.

  Straightening her uniform jacket, she pushed open the conference-room door and exited, trying to push away the feeling that disaster loomed right around the corner.

  * * *

  Chris stalked out of JAG. Immediately a woman pushed a microphone into his face.

  “Agent Vargas. Can you give us any information regarding the death of Senator Washington’s son?”

  “No comment,” he growled and ignored the attempts of the other reporters to get his attention. He pushed the button on his key ring to unlock his car. When he got inside, he slammed the door. Even after all these years, it felt as if they had never been apart.

  Shutting out the loud calls of the reporters around the driver’s side of his car, his thoughts went back to Sia. He had thought he knew what he would say to Sia when he saw her again. His eyes burned remembering the day of the crash and her face when they’d told her Rafael was dead. He’d never forget the way she’d looked at him. It was shortly afterward that the trembling started every time he sat in a cockpit. It was that look that ultimately forced him to hang up his wings. He’d survived. By sheer luck, he was still standing. But inside he was dying.

  After completing his Top Gun training, Chris had been assigned to the U.S.S. James McCloud and there met his new wingman, Lieutenant Rafael Soto. Chris was high on his success, his ability to make it to the top of his class. He had his afterburner on and he was flying right into the sun, pulling G’s.

  He’d shown his father he wasn’t good for nothing. Then everything came crashing down.

  A sharp rap on the window brought him back to himself. He started his car and drove away without even a glance at the reporters.

  Chris had worked with Rafael for two years before he’d met Sia. The James McCloud had docked in Norfolk and Rafael had invited Chris to a family gathering. Rafael had been like the brother Chris never had. He was an ace in the air, his knowledge and abilities impressive. He made Chris want to work harder to keep up.

  The night he’d met Sia, Chris was cocky and full of himself as only a pilot can be. Feeling he was finally slipping into a family situation he’d always dreamed of, he’d thought Sia would make a fine sister. Then he’d seen her, and any brotherly feelings dissipated in the wake of her sheer effect on him.

  Long, coffee-rich hair, dark sensual eyes, and a no-holds-barred attitude only made him want to subdue her in the most carnal way. He took one look at her and knew what would happen between them was inevitable.

  She had a knockout, head-turning shape that made the blood in his veins sizzle. But more than her physical appearance attracted him. The minute she opened her mouth and began to spar with him verbally, well, that was the kicker.

  Whenever he was stressed, he would revert back to those days when he was on top of the world and seducing Sia had been as natural as breathing. Their first time together still burned in his brain and remained imprinted on his heart.

  Chris reached his apartment and was soon out of his car and in his bedroom. Pulling a suitcase from his closet, he started packing.

  NCIS had sustained him through the loss of Rafael. But underlying that grief was the agony of losing Sia. Nothing and no one could alleviate that gut-wrenching pain. No one but Sia. He guessed that wasn’t the top priority on her list of things to do.

  He was on his own, as he’d been most of his life—a reality that had become painfully clear to him after Rafael had died.

  Suddenly he stopped packing and straightened, swallowing hard at the memories that flooded over him.

  He and Sia had been wrapped up in each other that summer. With her diploma from Yale, she had easily snagged a prestigious job at a law firm in New York City. Her job was slated to begin in the fall, but they had made plans to be together. Sia was going to break the news to her father that she couldn’t go to New York. She loved Chris and wanted to stay in Norfolk.

  They had planned a life together and Sia had been so in love with him…until…the accident.

  That’s when everything had changed. Sia had abandoned him when he’d needed her the most. She’d sided with her family and cut him out of her life as if he meant nothing. For him it had been the ultimate betrayal.

  And Chris had lost everything that mattered.

  * * *

  Hollis removed Sia’s uniforms from the dryer and walked to her kitchen table, setting them down.

  “Here I thought we’d be chugging wine, not doing domestic chores.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back on a plane in two hours and then on to Pearl. I appreciate you helping me. This shoulder is still pretty sore and I’m supposed to rest it for another day at least.”

  “Ah, the glamorous life of a JAG officer.”

  Sia snorted. “Right.”

  Hollis gave her a sidelong glance. “What’s wrong? You look…unsettled.”

  “You know what? To hell with it.” Sia walked to her kitchen cabinet and pulled out two wineglasses. Hollis smiled, stopped fussing with Sia’s uniforms and walked over. “I’ve neglected to tell you about someone from my past.”

  “Oh, does this someone have to do with that unsettled look I mentioned?”

  Sia pulled a bottle of Riesling out of the fridge and popped the cork, pouring a generous amount into each glass. “He does. I have to work with him and I have to take orders from him. I think it might be someone you know.”

  “Really? Who?” Hollis took a sip of her wine.

  “Special Agent Chris Vargas.”

  “Chris? You were once up close and personal with Chris Vargas? Oh my, he is a hottie. All the female agents drool over him.”

  “Including you?”

  “Well, come on, he’s gorgeous and I’m female.”

  Sia took a sip of her wine, her emotions ragged. “We have a painful past, Hollis, and I’m not sure how I’m going to work with him.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry to trivialize your feelings.” She took Sia’s arm and led her over to the table. Settling in her seat, Hollis set her wineglass down and reached for a uniform shirt and a hanger. “Okay, spill.”

  Sia told Hollis everything. Afterward, Hollis was quiet for a moment, then in one swallow she finished off her wine. “I can only respond in one way. Chris is a decent guy and a top-notch agent. You couldn’t have a better partner out there watching your back.”

  After Hollis left and Sia was driving to the airport, she felt even more uncomfortable with the situation. Sia trusted Hollis, and her observations of people were always accurate. It
unsettled Sia to think that all those years ago, she might have been so mired in her grief that she’d unfairly judged Chris.

  Chapter 3

  It was easy to pick Sia out of a crowd. It was true being in Navy service khaki helped her to stand out, and it was also true she had her arm in a sling and had a very dark black eye compliments of a dead master chief. But it wasn’t any of those things that made her easy to find.

  Sia commanded attention, she moved and breathed confidence. Her dark hair was ruthlessly pulled back, her Navy cap situated firmly under her arm.

  She also had a long line of reporters dogging her steps, but she said nothing to them as she approached.

  He had no illusions he would get a welcoming smile. She’d made it quite clear she didn’t want him on this case, but that was too bad. He should have turned this assignment over to another agent, but he couldn’t. Whether it was to be contrary or something else, he didn’t know. From the look on her face, it was clear she was still royally pissed off at him.

  He was okay with that. Seeing her had stirred pain and regret, but it had also stirred emotions he had long forgotten. How he had loved this woman. His chest still ached with it; his body still yearned for her.

  “All set?” he asked as the same woman from last night tried to once again get his attention. “No comment,” he replied.

  Her mouth tightened as she asked him another question he blatantly ignored.

  Sia gave him a curt nod, and they headed for the security checkpoint. As soon as they reached the staging area, he showed his badge to the official and indicated the sidearm at his waist. The official checked all his papers and then Sia’s, as well.

  “You’re not carrying a firearm, ma’am?” the TSA official asked.

  Sia smiled. “No, I’m a lawyer. The only deadly things I carry are my mind for litigation and my very loaded briefcase.”

  The official laughed, and they were allowed to pass. Thankfully the reporters were left behind, but Chris was sure there would be a fresh batch when they landed. Once in the gate area, it wasn’t long before the plane was scheduled to take off. Once on board and securely buckled in, Sia sipped at a cup of coffee she’d purchased and remained silent.

 

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