“I wouldn’t call it hacking,” she said primly, almost making him laugh.
“Of course you wouldn’t. What was it—just practicing your skills at internet research?”
“Exactly.” She smiled, and the humor and warmth in her gaze caused his blood to pump heatedly inside him as he returned it. And the area where his blood pumped to made him uncomfortable.
“Tell you what,” he said. “There are things I’m not going to explain. Things I can’t explain. But whether or not you believe it, you’re in danger—and not from me.” Not if she behaved as he directed, at least. “If you agree to go with me to a safe house tomorrow, I’ll at least tell you more about why I can’t tell you what you’re asking.”
She laughed out loud. “That’s rich, Brody. And so convoluted that you could shower me with utter garbage and claim you’re fulfilling whatever I agree to now. So I won’t agree to anything. Oh, look. The show’s back on.” She leaned forward to grab the remote from the table, and the movement made her breasts strain against her shirt.
That made him all the more uncomfortable.
Holding what was left of his sandwich, he leaned back and started eating again.
He’d known he would be attempting to outsmart smart people in his undercover operation.
But he hadn’t anticipated that the smartest of all, and possibly the hardest to deal with, would be the woman he had once loved.
* * *
It had been sheer lunacy for Sherra to think she could pretend to act normal with Brody McAndrews sitting near her on one of her own chairs, eating a sandwich he’d made in her kitchen and playing mind games she couldn’t even pretend to understand.
Dead Brody McAndrews, who’d been resurrected first on her computer, and now in front of her eyes. And heart. And the rest of her body, which should not pay the least attention to him. Not after all this time—and in these bizarre circumstances.
This was her condo. Her life that he had invaded and now attempted to control and manipulate.
He wouldn’t even extend the courtesy of explaining why.
Well, it didn’t matter. He was obviously staying the night, though she hadn’t really agreed. She would lock her bedroom door—it fortunately had a lock—and stay inside till morning. Then she would go to work as usual.
If he didn’t like it, too bad. And if he tried to stop her, she would call 9-1-1 and get his nice, firm ass dragged out of there.
Extending him courtesy because of what they’d shared in the past was one thing. Letting him take over was something else.
On top of it all, she hadn’t paid much attention to the reality show she usually enjoyed. It had just ended.
So had her desire to stay in Brody’s presence.
Not exactly true, she admitted silently to herself. Desire was the key. The guy, no matter how odd the circumstances, still turned her on.
All the more reason to get away from him. Go to bed. Alone.
She stood and reached for the bag and plastic container that had held her dinner. He rose at the same time, picking up the paper towel he’d used to hold his sandwich.
“I’ll take that,” she told him.
“No problem.” He started carrying it to the kitchen. She could have stayed where she was but decided it might seem a victory to him. Instead, she followed.
“The trash container is there.” She pointed to the pull-out part of a lower cabinet.
“Thanks.”
She wanted to scream at their polite, distant conversation. This was all wrong. She wanted more from him, now that she knew he really was alive. She wanted to be in his arms, comforted by his hard body against hers, proving he did still exist.
Which was absurd. Especially under these circumstances. She didn’t know anything about Brody McAndrews any longer, except that he hadn’t died.
But the man he’d become? Obviously secretive. Crazy? She didn’t know. But she wanted to.
“How about one more glass of wine before going to… One more glass of wine?” She wasn’t going to even use the word bed in his presence again. It had seemed to give him the wrong—or right—idea before.
“Fine.”
They returned to the living room once she’d rinsed their coffee mugs and poured more wine. Both resumed their former seats.
Sherra decided to try once more for a conversation. Surely, they could talk civilly about things that weren’t controversial.
“Can you tell me anything at all about what you’ve done since leaving college, Brody?” She didn’t like how pleading her tone sounded. But she was, in fact, begging him to talk about what he felt comfortable discussing.
“Well…sure. I was a second lieutenant when I entered the service. You knew that.” He regarded her earnestly with those gorgeous amber eyes that she remembered so well.
“Yes, I did.” That had been the controversy that had split them apart, his joining the military—even though she’d known for years that it would happen.
“Did you serve in the D.C. area for a while? As I recall, you were stationed at Fort Jackson in South Carolina.”
“That’s right, for basic training. I found a way to hook up with the Army Corps of Engineers. I was there for a few years. Eventually I was sent to Afghanistan.” He clearly wasn’t going to tell her what he did, and she already knew he had served in that country.
It was where he had reportedly died.
“How about you, Sherra? I know some of what you’ve done since we last saw each other but not all. You work for CMHealthfoods in their computer department, right?”
“You know more about me than I do about you,” she retorted. “And I’m the one with the background in using computers for research.”
“You use them too well.” Anger glinted in his eyes. Obviously this conversation wasn’t as innocuous as she had hoped for.
She’d had enough.
“I’m going to my room now, Brody. See you in the morning—unless you’re ready to leave now.” She looked at him with as hopeful an expression as she could manage, knowing what the answer would be.
“See you in the morning,” he repeated grimly.
* * *
Sherra surprised herself. She brought a book to bed with her, not expecting to sleep.
But the next thing she knew, she was awakened by a strange sound from somewhere in her unit.
Brody, of course. Only, it sounded as if something was wrong. Like a body was being pounded somehow. The noise came from the other side of the wall from her bedroom. Her office.
What was he doing in there? Had he been right? Was someone after her?
Had someone broken into her apartment and attacked Brody?
Shakily, she grabbed her phone from where she’d left it charging on her nightstand. She’d wait to see what was happening before calling for help—maybe.
She had donned a loose T-shirt and sweatpants to sleep in—not that she expected Brody to burst into her room, but she wasn’t about to wear anything sexy with him around.
The bedside light remained on from her reading. She pulled on a fluffy, shapeless robe from her closet and tied it around her waist.
She grabbed a flashlight and held it in the opposite hand from where she gripped her phone. She turned it on, then unlocked her bedroom door.
The sound was louder, almost rhythmic. What was going on?
She carefully walked down the hall, past the kitchen and into the living room, then around the corner to her office.
And stopped. The light was on.
Brody was on the floor inside the office. Alone. He wasn’t being attacked.
Instead, he was doing pushups. Fast ones. Ones where his knees and chest hit the floor before he straightened his arms again.
Sherra laughed aloud. “Brody, what are yo
u doing?”
He stopped and jumped up. All he wore was a pair of black boxers. His damp body gleamed in the soft light. His expression was grim.
“I was exercising.” His tone was almost a growl.
“I figured, but why now, in the middle of the night?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead, he just looked at her, eyes gleaming with heat and longing.
Which stoked something deep inside Sherra, too. She should run out of there. Leave him to his exercise. Stay far away.
Instead, she stood still as he approached. He grabbed her in his arms, and she felt his warmth and hardness against her. It nearly made her melt.
“This is why, Sherra,” he said, and lowered his lips to hers.
Chapter 3
His kiss was forceful and hot and fueled flames within Sherra that had been all but dormant since their last encounter more than six years earlier.
She held on to Brody as if clinging to him now would make up for all the time since they’d last been together. Kissed him back with as much passion, as much need, as she tasted in the hunger of his lips.
His pleasantly musky scent filled her like an opiate she had never again imagined inhaling.
His sweat-slicked body against her was even harder than she remembered. And no wonder, if he spent nights conditioning it as he’d been doing here, instead of sleeping.
His tongue began to perform additional magic, thrusting into her mouth and taunting until she felt her knees weaken. If she wasn’t careful, she’d sink to the carpeted floor, drag him with her and start touching him all over. In fact—
His grasp weakened for an instant, and his kiss, too, cooled.
She refused to let him go. Instead, her eyes still closed, she whispered against his mouth, “I don’t understand. You said you wanted to exercise—”
At least he still held her close. “I was exercising to prevent this.” His voice was raw, ironic, and she finally backed off just enough to look at him.
“But—”
His half-opened eyes smoldered as they regarded hers. “I want you, Sherra. I was exercising to distract myself. To do something other than—”
“Than this?” She pressed herself even tighter against him, her stomach thrusting against his hardness as her hands moved down the muscular planes of his back until she could grasp his taut buttocks.
He groaned. “Not a good idea.”
“I agree,” she whispered. “Not here. Come into my bedroom.” Even as she invited him, her common sense rebuked her. He had been right to do what he felt necessary to prevent what was happening. They had a history, but it was definitely in the past.
They had only conflict in the present.
Conflict, and an attraction that tempted her despite every warning she could toss at herself.
She pulled away long enough to take his hand and start leading him from the living room toward the hallway that led to her bedroom. When he held back she said, “This isn’t anything but sex, Brody. It’s not changing anything between us. You’ve got your opinion about what I’m doing, and I still don’t buy it. But—”
“But,” he repeated. They were in her room now, and once more she was wrapped tightly in his arms, kissing him as sensually as he kissed her.
And then they were on the bed. He stripped off her T-shirt and sweatpants as she maneuvered his boxers down his legs.
She stopped for an instant, drinking in the toned, muscular appearance of his upper body and legs—and his large, hard penis that she wanted to touch. Did touch, grasping it in one hand, feeling its rigid, unyielding heat.
“Brody,” she heard herself gasp as he, too, touched and massaged the key to her sex, his fingers hot and teasing and altogether arousing.
He pulled back, looking down as she lay beneath him on the bed, searching her face as if giving her one last chance to tell him to stop.
Instead… “Please,” she said.
He thrust inside her. She moaned at the exquisite pleasure as his body kept moving, and she bucked upward at every thrust.
It felt like mere moments before she reached her climax, and she moaned softly even as he, too, closed his eyes and groaned in release.
He stayed perched above her, leaning on those muscular arms as if he was still engaged in pushups. And then he lowered himself. Gently.
His weight pressed her down without stifling her. She didn’t move. Didn’t want to ruin the moment.
Didn’t want to entice him again—not then, at least.
Only then did she realize what she had done. She had made love with Brody McAndrews with the same kind of abandon that had characterized their astounding, unforgettable relationship years ago.
But it wouldn’t change anything between them. Couldn’t.
There were so many things he hadn’t explained while sneaking so suddenly back into her life and trying to control it, and he had made it clear he wouldn’t explain them.
For now, she reveled in the feel of him on top of her. How relaxed and sated she felt.
How happy, for the moment, she had been.
But in the morning, when she left for work, she would tell him to go. To leave, notwithstanding this night’s activities.
And not to come back.
* * *
Brody wanted to shove his fist through the nearest wall—but he hadn’t any energy left. Instead, he stayed in bed with Sherra. He pulled her close so her head was on his chest as he breathed fast and irregularly, his body still reacting to their incredible blaze of lovemaking.
It never should have happened.
But making love with Sherra again…
Okay, he didn’t regret it. He did regret the inevitable results, though.
She would believe she had some control over the situation. Over him. He doubted she’d be so sneaky as to try to use sex as a lever, but she’d make assumptions. If they made love, there was something between them despite what she’d said about this not changing anything. Something that would allow her to argue for her own way.
That couldn’t happen. Not if he wanted to fulfill his mission: get her damned dangerous hacking stopped. And, yes, keep her safe.
For now, though, he drew her even closer. Listened to her breathing become more regular, then deepen as she fell asleep.
Her body was warm. Soft in all the right places. And sexy? Hell, yes. In fact, just thinking about it made his body start to react again.
He didn’t try to stop it—but he did concentrate on using senses other than touch to evaluate his surroundings.
He was always aware of everything around him. He had to be.
Though he doubted the enemy would act tonight, he couldn’t be certain.
He knew what he would do in the morning. He would talk to Sherra first—and already knew the likely outcome. She might even believe she’d gotten her way, talked him out of whisking her off to a safe house. Somehow talked him into a compromise.
But she’d be wrong, although he’d allow her to believe it was a concession on his part. It would only be temporary and would allow him to fix things in the meantime.
For now, he stayed alert, even as he let himself enjoy the contact with the woman he had once loved and now craved. Again. Maybe always, whether or not he trusted her.
He stroked her hair softly. It still smelled of lemon, as it used to. She murmured in her sleep and moved her face against his chest.
He made himself relax so he could drift off into a light, controlled doze.
* * *
It was the only way to keep him from arguing with her. To allow her to get to her job on time.
Sherra didn’t like it, but she’d allowed Brody to drive her to work. And now he was coming upstairs to her office.
“So what do you think
of the CMHealthfoods headquarters, Jim?” she asked as they rode up to the third floor in the elevator. Fortunately, they were alone.
“Nice enough place.” Brody, his eyes behind thick glasses, assessed the ceiling of the car as if he expected someone to smash through it and attack. He hadn’t shaved and his posture was…different. His slouch made him appear shorter and heavier somehow. There was even a different jut to his jaw.
He didn’t look much like her Brody.
He’d indicated he was off to a job after he left her, but hadn’t explained where or what it was. In a button-down shirt and slacks he’d apparently retrieved from his car, he looked more casual than she, compared with the pale blue dress she wore with low-heeled, comfortable shoes. He still managed to be too damned sexy. Or maybe it was the night they had shared that colored her vision, allowed her to see beyond his disguise.
“It’s not very secure, though,” he continued, “even with the guard downstairs.”
Sherra wanted to argue with him, but why bother? The building was in an office park, and she’d always considered it attractive with its curved facade of brown bricks. The cafeteria was on the second floor, and part of the third floor was stepped to create an outdoor eating area for the employees when the weather permitted. Maybe someone could climb the wall and get inside that way, but they’d be pretty obvious since the open parking lot was right out front. Not to mention a couple of matching buildings facing this one.
His hints of danger were getting to her, making her feel uneasy. Was any of it real, or just his way to assert control over her?
She had been uncomfortable, yet not surprised, when Brody had shown the guard his ID—a driver’s license with the name Jim Martin and his somewhat doctored photo. A relatively common name. Not Brody Andrews, or his real one. Why?
What was really going on with Brody?
And when would he tell her?
Maybe never. But that was fine. Once he checked out her office and left today, she’d be cautious and assume he was still following her. She still wasn’t sure how he had gotten into her unit, but she’d have the locks changed and get the condo association to upgrade the building’s security, even if she had to foot a lot of the bill herself—although it should be at least partly a common expense to be shared by all residents.
Undercover Soldier Page 3