Her eyes prickled again and she whacked the pillow a couple more times. “I think I’ll take a nap now.” Her heart hammered like a piston rod with a spun bearing. When the hell had she let him unwrap her emotionally? Just because he liked her weird sense of humor, was a gifted doctor and could fly a mean eight-sided loop with an aileron roll across the top, didn’t mean she had to go and fall in love with the man.
Oh yeah, there was that damn Energizer Bunny.
“Hey, honey, what’s wrong now?”
Maybe she would have been okay if his voice hadn’t softened or if she hadn’t looked into his worried and oh-so-damn-blue eyes. But it did and she did. And she lost it after all.
“Oh God, Stillman, I’ve let my whole damn crew get killed.”
* * *
Stillman held Caitlyn as she cried for the second time that day. And he knew he had to come clean now or risk losing her. And now, after hearing her talk of taking in Joe’s child, getting spitting mad when he challenged her about becoming a mother, he couldn’t imagine letting her go.
God, he was in so deep he couldn’t see any way out that wouldn’t cost him his heart.
“Shhh, Queeny, you did no such thing.”
She punched his arm with her fist. Hard. “I told you, the queen—”
“No, she didn’t.” He put his lips to her ear. “Promise me you won’t react. Remember surveillance cameras,” he breathed the words to her.
She stilled instantly. And imperceptibly nodded her head.
“Joe’s very much alive.”
A tremor zapped through her body like an electric shock. Her fingers dug into his arms. “All of them? They’re alive?” she whispered without shifting in his arms. “You promise?”
He nodded then sat back to look at her face. Tears still tracked down her cheek, but he saw relief, and something else he was afraid to believe in. Something he thought he’d stopped believing in when Hilary walked out on him.
“I think we need to fumigate this room.” Caitlyn scissored her legs over his head and hopped off the bed before he could stop her. “I think I’ve found all of them, but could use a more experienced exterminator.”
She bent over in front of him and his breath stalled, thinking she was going to kiss him. He sure as hell needed her to. Instead she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and wiped her eyes dry. “You little witch.”
Her grin looked beautiful despite the battered face. “That’s BITCH. Queen BITCH,” she said in a horrible James Bond imitation.
Stillman opened his mouth as Caitlyn turned, then slowly closed it. He jerked his hand through his hair and called himself every kind of fool. Thinking he loved her was one thing—confessing it, a whole other proposition—one that opened him up to a world of hurt. He stood to follow Caitlyn into the bathroom. He couldn’t afford platinum and diamonds today any more than he could when he married Hilary.
He’d tried to laugh off the silly gift Atwah had teased Caitlyn about. The little music box had been an impulse buy after all. He’d spotted it at the airport when he’d taken Hilary to catch her flight. The tiny plane had reminded him of Caitlyn flying loops in George.
Stupid as it was, her casual disparagement had hurt nonetheless.
“Dr. Terminex, your expertise is needed in the bathroom,” she called.
Her absurd need to name things—him included—made him smile. Then he chuckled as he looked around the plush room. He had another reason to disable all the bugs. They hadn’t used all the condoms.
Jacksonville, FL,
Friday, 23 September, 1535 hours
Agent Munson had moved Valerie to a different location. It looked more like a war room than a conference room, complete with whiteboards and speakerphones. The polished mahogany table was dotted with leather binders, yellow pads and pencils. All eyes were focused on her.
Besides Munson, her audience was made up of four agents and two admin types, scurrying in and out. She’d slept, showered and they’d fed her. And hallelujah, her migraine was gone. Life was good once more.
“Gentlemen, and ladies,” she said with a nod to each of the serious faces watching her, “I’ve been reviewing all the data I collected and think I’ve found your target.”
They held their collective breaths and waited.
“It’s his brother’s home.” She gave Munson her best smug smile and folded her hands on the conference table. “The Miami mansion, not the Egret Isle one in the middle Keys.” She waited a full second as papers rustled and agents exchanged furtive looks. “My educated guess is that Atwah, Yasin, the female Coast Guard pilot and her helicopter, are all hiding on brother Ali’s estate. Of course, you already know that since you have your man there.
“If you look at history between these brothers, you’ll see over twenty years of hatred. Ali received the better education. He received his father’s name, his business, his respect. Atwah, sorry, I know that’s not his real name, but that’s how I think of him. He grew up in his older brother’s shadow. The rift widened after the incident with their mother. I don’t know for sure who concocted the lies about the woman, but they went their separate ways after her death. Atwah returned to the States to go to college. Here is my research.”
Valerie opened her briefcase and handed her highlighted papers to Munson. She couldn’t give him all of her contacts because of promises she’d made, but she wouldn’t hold back information any longer. “Ali really does appear to be tied to al-Qaeda. Despite what I heard Atwah tell his brother on the phone, the only allegiance he seems to have is to himself. The man is an intelligent, driven psychopath. His uneasy partnership with Ali is a ruse. I believe if he gets his hands on the bomb Ali is trying to procure, he will use it on his brother.”
The overall room tension went up and the looks became pointed. “All right, apparently what I said isn’t news to you all,” Valerie said and sat back. Hell, maybe they were better info scavengers than she thought.
Munson shuffled the papers she’d handed him and smiled. “No, that’s not quite true. We hadn’t made the connection to his target. Saturday night, Ali is hosting a party at his Miami estate. Imagine the guest list. Heston, get a copy ASAP.” His face went back to normal, nondescript. “Why would Ali help him? I don’t get that connection.”
Valerie grinned. “That’s where we come full circle—in a roundabout way,” she said and laughed at her own joke. Hell, none of these stiff-jawed Feebs would. “Ali is using his brother for his own purposes. I don’t think he believed Atwah could pull off the hijacking. Now that he did, he’s going to manipulate Atwah into a position where he can steal the money Atwah raised for the bomb as well as take control of the helicopter and its crew.”
She sat back in her leather chair and beamed at the ever so slightly stunned audience. They hadn’t quite connected all the players after all. “Now, given Atwah’s hatred for women, I really, really hope that Coast Guard pilot is the one that takes him down.”
Egret Isle, FL,
Friday, 23 September, 2105 hours
Caitlyn stretched and rolled over. Pain, sharp and scratchy, yanked her from the languid half sleep she’d been luxuriating in for the last thirty seconds or so. She bolted up as she remembered where she was and what Stillman and Yasin had done. She closed her eyes and touched the knot on her forehead. If given the opportunity to join in the plan she would have agreed to it since it removed Joe from danger. But not knowing had certainly ensured a very realistic reaction on her part. Bastards. Maybe if the roles had been reversed, she would have done the same thing. Yeah, okay, she would have because it needed to be real.
She opened her eyes, then blinked several times. The room was pitch-black and her heart threatened a riot.
“It’s okay. You’re here with me,” Stillman’s rumbling voice said from the darkness to her right.
“Why are the lights off?” H
er voice sounded normal, didn’t it? No hint of the irrational fear that had plagued her since she was ten. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. Wouldn’t the good doctor love to hear all about that little childhood incident? Not in her lifetime.
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s easier to sleep with them off?” came his dry reply.
“Well, it sounds like we’re both awake now.” She scooted to the side of the bed, her hand searching for the lamp.
A soft light came on before her hand ran into anything. “Thank you,” she said, her body immediately standing-down from its red alert. A fancy glass-domed eight-day clock sat on the nightstand, the three little golden balls turning hypnotically. She blinked stupidly at it. Twenty-one-oh-seven? What the hell happened to the day?
The bed dipped and she jumped. “Relax. You’re as nervous as a cadet at first inspection.”
His husky chuckle calmed her fear, but sent her blood bounding into tender territory. Oh. Wow. She slowly turned and looked into sexy, summertime eyes. They were alone.
Unbidden, the day’s activities came back with a rush. She even vaguely remembered him waking her up periodically to make sure she knew who she was.
“God, I’d forgotten about our extermination mission.” There hadn’t been any cameras in their room and Stillman had boosted her up to reach the listening devices mounted on the ceilings in the bedroom and bath. They’d only disabled some of them, keeping enough in working order to prevent Atwah from taking notice.
When Yasin brought them dinner, he’d confirmed marginal sound transmission in the security monitoring room. He said Atwah spent more time on perimeter security and rarely paid attention to the hostages’ room. It wasn’t like he thought they had any secrets to tell. The door and windows were all alarmed, so any attempt to escape would be heard all over the island.
Caitlyn touched fingertips to her swollen cheek. “I bet this looks even worse than it feels.”
Stillman slid across the bed to sit beside her. “Yeah, ‘fraid so.”
His hand was gentle and made her think of how they could spend the rest of the night.
The way his eyes dilated confirmed his thoughts matched hers.
“If I were a gentleman, I wouldn’t suggest anything more strenuous than a soak in the tub and a light massage.”
She smiled at the way his gaze drank in her breasts. The man made no lame excuses for the way he worshiped them. “Thank God you’re a pilot, not a gentleman. Otherwise I’d have to seduce you out of your good intentions.”
He frowned and ran his finger down her cheek. “I wish I could put antiseptic cream on this.”
“Could you make that baby oil? And if you accidentally spilled it...”
He scooped her up and she squealed. God, she needed the release promised in his set jaw and iron erection pressed against her hip.
“Not on your life. Tonight will be slow and romantic.”
Caitlyn twisted so she could look at him as he carried her to the bathroom. “What did you do with Dr. Butt Head? I happened to like the kinky way he used that bar of soap.”
He shook his head and tried to muffle a laugh. “I know it will be difficult for you, but we need to be quiet. I don’t want Atwah questioning your sudden change in attitude if he checks on us during the night,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear.
Her kiss turned into a heated escalation of their continuous foreplay. No wonder she came so quickly when he touched her—he kept her aroused with every damn look.
His tongue took over her lead and his hand held the back of her head so he could delve deeper. She murmured her approval and rubbed her tingling nipples against his chest.
“God, Caitlyn, what you do to me,” he said in a rough voice. He set her down on the cold tile floor, his breathing harsh.
Caitlyn planned to quickly undress while he flipped lights on, then cranked faucets in the huge marble Jacuzzi. She wanted to be naked when he turned back to her. Easy enough to do since she’d stripped down to her college tee and undies for her earlier nap.
Bending over to slip off her thong turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Dizziness seized her and for a moment the room darkened and she swayed.
“Hey, are you all right?” Stillman’s hands steadied her then gripped harder as his gaze took in her nudity. “Jesus, Queeny.”
How could she not love a man who looked at her like that? He made her feel like a queen, but got down and dirty as if she were a scullery maid. “Do we have any bubbles? I’ve never taken a bath with a guy before, but that sounds like fun.”
He settled her against the vanity; probably afraid she’d fall and hit her head again. While he searched the marble shelf over the tub, she twirled her hair into a messy knot on top of her head and secured it with an elastic band. He turned and held up two plastic bottles from the array. “Flowers or fruit. Those are your choices.”
His pointed attempt to not look at her egged her on. “Let me smell them,” she purred and leaned over, her breasts swaying against his arm. The brush of hard muscle and the soft mat of hair brought her nipples to full military stance—tight and erect.
“Lieutenant, you’re pushing your luck,” he managed to growl out at her.
“I certainly hope so.”
He moved away from her and dumped enough bubble bath to fill an Olympic-sized pool with suds. The steam over the tub bloomed with the scent of tropical flowers and Caitlyn felt dizzy for a totally different reason. The man was toying with her emotions.
Ignoring him, she stepped into the marble Jacuzzi and flipped the switch to activate the jets. She slowly sank in the hot water, letting it, and the heady fragrance of the bubble bath, soothe her aching muscles. “Hmmm, this feels good. I didn’t know I was so sore,” she said with eyes closed.
Water sloshed, then Stillman’s legs slid around her, his erection pressed solidly against her butt. “That feels even better.” She leaned back, letting the hard planes of his chest support her. Not sure if he’d take the hint, she took his hands and placed them over her breasts. She sighed with pure sensual pleasure. “Ah, now I’m in heaven.”
His breath teased the hair at her temple. “Not yet, remember what you said last night?” His fingers squeezed and released her breasts, cupping their weight rhythmically.
Blood surged to her face, burning her chafed skin like the sun. “Did you bring the condoms with you?” Yes, having him buried deep would be heaven, all right.
He chuckled and moved his attentive and oh-so-talented fingers to her nipples. “No, that comes later. This is the relaxing soak and massage.”
She whimpered. From the delay, or the wicked way he tugged and pinched, she couldn’t say. Hell, she couldn’t have given her name, rank and serial number if asked. She let her head rest on his shoulder. A girl could get spoiled with this kind of treatment.
“Yasin thinks something’s up. When he talked to his contact this evening, he said the schedule, and target, might have changed. Apparently they have a new source with pretty credible information.”
His quiet and too casual delivery caught her attention first, then the way his fingers stilled. “I’d already guessed it would be a night raid. Are they suggesting the attack has moved from Sunday?” she asked.
His fingers lazily circled her nipples. “Yeah. Probably Saturday night.”
She jerked out of his arms and slid around to face him, a flurry of bubbles exploding in the air around them. “Tomorrow night?” Her heart spun in her chest like Fly Baby’s rotors.
His solemn-looking eyes stared back at her and he nodded. “Tomorrow night.”
The sound of the water running, and the jets burbling filled the room. There was more. She could see it in his guarded expression. “What else?”
His sigh sounded like it carried the weight of the free world. “Let me
fly the bomb out. You’ve been through enough. There’s no reason for you to take that kind of risk.”
Stunned she sat and stared for a moment before reacting. “No way in hell!” She surged to her feet. And the room blackened again. Shit. She grabbed her head as Stillman grabbed her hips and hauled her back down in the tub with him.
“Dammit, you’ve been knocked around enough today, you don’t need to pass out and drown.”
She let him tuck her between his legs again, and noticed his bunny wasn’t energized any longer. Yeah, her mood had deflated too.
She closed her eyes and settled against his chest where his heart thumped too fast. “I know you’d rather take the risk yourself. But let’s be honest. I’ve flown that helo, or its type, for almost ten years now. Bottom line, colonel, I’m current in the machine. You aren’t.”
Stillman didn’t say a thing. Finally, he took his foot and kicked the faucet handles to the off position. The gurgle of the jets sounded louder without the water running.
She felt his exhaled resignation before he voiced it.
“Shit. You’re absolutely right. If I had two pilots under my command, one with your experience, and one with mine, I’d never even consider sending anyone but you on the mission.” He pulled her closer, his arms around her waist. “But I expect to be in the left seat.”
Not if she had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t. They could discuss all the possibilities, but until they collected the bomb, anything could, and probably would, happen. She took his hands in hers and placed them over her breasts. Those he couldn’t ignore or resist. If tonight was their last one alive, she didn’t intend to spend it arguing.
He seemed receptive to the idea; at least his fingers began their teasing exploration again. She smiled as his right hand slid down her ribs and over her stomach. He briefly toyed with her belly button before slipping lower. She arched her back to speed his progress.
He hummed his disapproval in her ear. “Impatient? We have all night and a limited number of condoms. We’re going to have to become creative in making them last.”
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