Special Ops Rendezvous

by Karen Anders

  “I think so. So do you think there is a way for me to remember?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m certainly not my brother. But take this Yellowstone trip that you’re remembering, for example. I find it peculiar that Trey is the only one whose face is blank. Maybe we should talk about that and see what that could mean.”

  “All right,” he said, looking like the Sam she knew. The man who was willing to fight, the man who could overcome any obstacle, take on any enemy. “How do you want to go about doing this?”

  “By taking you back.”

  “Damn, Liv.”

  “I know this is going to be painful and scary and if there was any other way, Sam, believe me, I would take it. But we’ve got to try to access as many memories as we can. The Yellowstone memory was obviously planted. What do you remember other than Trey’s missing features?”

  “Being really angry with my mother that she wasn’t with us. It was beyond anger, you know what I mean? It was out of proportion. It’s so odd, because my mother was the one who was always going that extra mile. It was my father who was always too busy to have any time for us.”

  “That’s your reality Sam. When planting false memories they have to use what’s available to them. But it’s scary that they have all this information on your family. That they know so much about you.”

  “Mike knew a lot about me. Maybe they pumped him for information about me before they programmed him to kill my mother.”

  “That’s certainly possible. Still, do you think the chain of command on your unit was compromised by the Cartel?”

  “Very few people know about what we do tactically. All my missions are top secret. They have to be. If the enemy gets wind of what we’re doing, we could be landing ourselves right into an ambush. Those two other Rangers who dropped into Afghanistan with us were already dead before they even hit the ground. That’s what Jeffers said. Something else I have to process and the Cartel has to answer for.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her face along his. “Oh, God, Sam. You are so amazing. It’s no wonder you’re not in a padded cell right now with everything you’ve had to deal with.”

  He hugged her tight and kissed her neck. “I think that has more to do with you, Liv, than it does with me.”

  She pulled away from him slightly enough to look at him. She smiled. “I’m certainly not going to argue with that, you beautiful man.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. His mouth slid over hers, his blue eyes intense and warm. She didn’t think there was any way she would ever get tired of kissing that mouth. She deepened the kiss, pressing harder against him, moving over his lips and just being in the moment kissing him, enjoying the sensation as it tingled through her. Sam was easily the most potent man she’d ever met. Their chemistry was off the charts.

  He moaned softly and opened his mouth, giving her his tongue. She sucked on him. Changing position, she straddled him, the ache in her flaming up so fast it left her breathless.

  “Undo my jeans, Liv,” he pleaded against her mouth. “God, I need you.”

  She wore nothing under her robe, so it was easy for him to part it and cup her bare breast, rubbing over her nipple, pinching it, adding to the shivers his soft, sexy mouth were already producing.

  Reaching down, she undid the button and he groaned as she pulled down the zipper. She felt the hot, pulsating heat of him beneath her fingers. She pulled down his boxers and he sprang free.

  The raw truth was she was craving the feel of him deep inside her, thick and penetrating. As soon as he was free, he was jerking her down on top of him.

  She pushed down as hard as she could, frozen at the impact of the moment. He caught her gaze. She was drawn into those deep pools of blue until she felt swamped, overwhelmed and drowning in him. Neither one of them moved, caught and just hovering on the exquisite moment of not only powerful pleasure, but deep intimacy as if she was pulled into his soul and he was pulled into hers.

  “Sam,” was all she could manage, her love for him evident in the way she said his name. She cupped his face in her hands, unable to get enough of the feel of his skin. “Sam,” she whispered again, moaning and struggling with the breath trapped in her throat.

  “You are so beautiful, Livvy.”

  “You feel so good, Sam. I feel so close to you.”

  “I want you all over me.”

  He moved his hips, their eyes still fused by such an elemental bond she couldn’t look away. She slid her hands down to his thick chest muscles, brushing over the dog tags that were warm from his body heat, and pressed her palms flat. She thrust her hips forward, their long groans of satisfaction mingling. She was practically vibrating with need for this man. Maybe it was the uncertainty of the situation; maybe it was that she realized she only had so much time with Sam and it had to matter because he mattered so much to her.

  The sensation of him pushed her to ride him helplessly, with abandon. She’d never experienced anything like it with any other man. She came fast as he climaxed, his hips jerking against her pelvis and the chair.

  She clung to him when it was over, and he clung just as tightly to her, surrounding her with his male scent. She struggled to stay upright in his lap, her hand open against the back of his neck, her face buried in the slope of his shoulder. Their breaths came in heavy pants.

  The ferocity of what they’d just experienced couldn’t be categorized. Sam was hers now and it felt as though it would last forever. Of course, the risk to Sam certainly heightened the act, but that didn’t explain the hot tears that gathered behind her closed eyelids or her reluctance to let him go, to look him in the eye. The emotion was too raw, and if he didn’t already know, he would see it in her eyes. She wasn’t even sure she could hide it from him. Sam was perceptive and intelligent. But the circumstances of his life were prohibiting any kind of promise.

  He was still holding on to her, his face buried in her hair, as if he wasn’t ready to let go, either. Could it be possible that he was in love with her, too? Not that it mattered. Sam had to go, no matter what. She willed herself to move, to gather herself and not lean on his shoulder. But even as her muscles refused to move, his arm tightened around her, his fingertips dug more deeply into her hair. Oh, God, how was she ever going to let him go for real? She pressed her lips against the damp, heated skin of his neck, a tender kiss that came from the very core of her. And when she felt him kiss her hair, she kissed him again, dragging her mouth against the hard edge of his jaw, before nuzzling against his cheek, until he turned his face and met her lips with his. She kissed his sexy mouth, his so, so sexy mouth, something warm and tight and stunning spreading out from that physical connection, something more profound and beautiful than any physical release.

  “I told myself that I should keep my hands off you. But I can’t. I just can’t.” His voice was raspy and sounding gruff.

  “I don’t want you to stop touching me, wanting me, Sam. Time is...”

  “Running out,” he said with finality, and she felt the impact of those words as if she’d been punched in the chest. She did move then, but he captured her face between his palms before she could slide completely off his lap. His expression tortured, his gaze locked on to hers so intently that it was as tangible a connection as the kisses they’d just shared.

  The bittersweet silence between them intensified. This was a man she could spend the rest of her life with. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.

  He said nothing, just held her gaze for the longest moment. Then he took her hand and put it over his heart, covering it. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Right here. It’s all that’s keeping me going. Keeping me in this game this organization has put in motion, trying to play me like a pawn. You make me feel like it’s possible to overcome it all.”

  Covering her hand with his other hand, he pressed
it against his warm skin. She slid her hand down and threaded her fingers through his and brought it to her mouth.

  “I’ve got you, too, Sam.”

  He closed his eyes when she brushed her mouth against the back of his fingers.

  She would do anything for him. Anything. They would go into battle together.

  The Cartel didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter 14

  After their fierce joining in the kitchen, Sam was totally aware of how Olivia felt about him. But his hands were tied. He could make no commitments. What he felt for her threw his whole future plan into a tailspin.

  This whole ordeal had been taxing on him in more ways than one—physically, mentally and emotionally. Especially the emotional part. Being a man and a soldier, he rarely acknowledged that part. But things had to be done. He’d signed on to do them.

  But he was burned out, disillusioned and he realized that wasn’t just now, not only because of all this business with the Cartel. It went further back. He’d been gone from his family for almost ten long years.

  His reenlistment was coming up in a couple of months and he truly didn’t know what he wanted to do for the first time in his life.

  Maybe he wouldn’t have a life to live after what the Cartel wanted him to do.

  Currently Olivia had decided the best thing to do was try to work backward. Use the bits and pieces of his memory to try to make it whole.

  He looked at her earnestly. He wanted to protect her. No matter who came after her, no matter how hard they came after her. He would do his best.

  To his very last breath.

  He knew all about being broken. He accepted it, gained strength from it. He’d been there and done that. It was now time to try to get back what he had lost.

  She was behind him, tucked right up against his back so that her mouth was right at his ear. She sent her fingers down his arm. “Just talk, Sam. Go back to right before you jumped into that ambush. Remember what happened and just let it form in your mind.”

  She trailed her fingertips down his biceps and his forearm all the way to his fingertips. And Sam went back. Back nine months.

  “Mike and I were getting ready to go on the mission. I said to him, ‘Who the hell are these wet-behind-the-ears kids they’re making us take into this cluster?’ He grinned at me as we assembled the items we needed while gearing up, checking out our weapons, and getting into the kick-ass mind-set. He laughed. The memory of it feels alien now. He said, ‘Cut them some slack, Winston. We were once those guys.’

  “I grinned like the devil. ‘Not me,’ I said. ‘I was born a badass.’” Sam blinked at the sting in his eyes and heaved out a breath.

  “I know this is painful, Sam, but keep talking.”

  “We loaded into the helo and it was pretty quiet on the trip. I was going over tactical stuff in my head. When it came time to jump, it went very smoothly. We hit our spot almost to the degree. They took out the two kids. Bam, they were dead, and I...saw Mike. He never even got off a shot. Three of them took him down, shoving a needle into his neck.

  “They came for me, too, but I opened fire, hitting two of them. The three after me, plus the fourth guy, took me down hard and I got the needle, too.”

  Sam stopped talking; he knew the next part was bad. The part he remembered. But her soothing touch seemed to take him into the memory easier.

  “I’m with you, Sam, in the here and now. That was the past. It’s past and can’t really hurt you. Tell me and let it go.”

  He took a deep breath. “This is the part that’s hazy.”

  “Is there some way for you to make it clear? Try to free your mind. You’re safe with me, Sam. You can tell me anything.”

  He leaned back, resting his head against her.

  “Focus,” she said softly as she cradled him against her.

  He relaxed, breathing in her scent, and let himself float, not thinking about anything in particular.

  “It was wet. Cold. I felt sick and I heaved. It was a cell, rock all around. I was groggy and stumbled when I tried to rise. I was angry... I was...”

  “What Sam?”

  “Scared. It was the first time I felt like that.”

  “Weren’t you ever afraid in battle?”

  “It’s different. You can be proactive in combat. You can move and do your job. There is adrenaline and chaos and action. Here I was, trapped with an unknown enemy. No buddies, no backup, no support. Utterly alone.”

  “Oh, Sam.” Her arms tightened around him.

  He made himself recall the memory, made himself bring it out of the dark recesses of his mind where he’d pushed it. He used the remnants to construct what had happened to him. Because she’d asked him to, because she was trying to help him.

  He shuddered with the ugliness, the pain, the fear, but her presence helped.

  After a while he spoke. “I’m not going to go into detail here, Olivia. I’m not going to give you those images to torture you, because...you care about me.”

  “I do care about you, Sam.”

  “They beat me for days, weeks, starved me and kicked me. I was so thirsty I think I would have tried to suck the water out of mud.”

  She rocked him against her then, both her arms coming around him, one hand curving over his shoulder to rest on his chest, the other around his rib cage. “Then when I was losing my grip, they used the water board.”

  “What—”

  “No, Olivia. No details. Suffice it to say it was a very effective way to make a man spill his guts. But I held out, for days. It was shortly after that that the screaming began. It went on for a long time. Day and night. The guy just kept at it until he finally lost his voice. I think it was Mike.”

  “Oh, God.”

  Panic crowded his throat as he probed at the memory he most feared. He took a breath, but he couldn’t speak about it. “Olivia. I don’t think I can...”

  “You can, Sam. You must.”

  He was a Ranger. He let the fear wash over him, let it take him, and he rode it until the end. “The white room,” he whispered.

  “They strapped me into this chair and this doctor came in and administered these drugs to me. They burned as they went into my veins. And I started to cramp, my mind reeled and I...” He choked and clenched his teeth, fighting off the memory, so wanting to let it go back into the blank recesses of his mind.

  “I...I...”

  “Sam, that’s enough.”

  He didn’t even realize he’d broken away from her and was in the middle of the room kneeling on the floor. He understood, the middle of the room was open, unrestricting. That’s why he went there. He needed the freedom of nothing around him.

  “Oh, God, oh, God,” he panted. He tried to breathe around the sickness inside him, tried to control the panic that made him want to run away.

  But it was as if the floodgates had been opened and all the pain and agony of the time he’d spent in that room surged out of his subconscious. He doubled over, his breathing ragged, his heart racing. “It hurt so badly. I was seeing things. Hideous things. Hallucinations. All my combat experience dumping onto me, crushing me. The horrors of war...the images I’d locked away. Dammit!” Hot tears burned behind his closed lids, squeezed out between his lashes and ran down his cheeks. “Like I was being consumed by fire from the inside out. I spilled...everything I knew. It came out of me in one long stream. I gave away coordinates, every scrap of information. At the end there, I was making shit up. I broke. They broke me,” he whispered.

  He felt himself disappearing, going away somewhere else.

  “Sam. I’m here, Sam. This was such a bad idea.”

  He got up and stumbled away from her. “Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, Dr. Owens.”

  He
started to fall, but she was there, her face, her scent, the feel of her hands, and he knew he could let go for a little bit because Olivia would hold him safe. Then he floated in some kind of nowhere land, a blank soothing nowhere until he felt the pressure of her arms around him, holding him.

  * * *

  “Olivia.” He took a shuddering breath. “Sweetheart.”

  He was lying on the bed, and her face was ravaged by tears and worry.

  “Oh, thank God. I thought I had lost you. I was going to call an ambulance if you didn’t wake up soon.”

  “How long?” His voice was hoarse from disuse.

  “Twelve hours.”

  “What?”

  “You were so still.”

  She slipped off the bed and came back with water. He sat up, feeling light-headed and starving. He drank two bottles, then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, resting his face against her stomach. “Livvy, I held on to you. I think I just needed the rest. It’s been so long since I’ve slept through the night.”

  He rose and pulled her in to his arms. It was his turn to give her comfort. “You ground me.”

  She clung to him and he felt her concern and fear.

  “I was so worried, so afraid.”

  They stood like that for a few more minutes, and then she insisted that he eat something. Once his stomach was full, she looked at him from across the table and said, “Was the exercise helpful? Did you get anything out of it?”

  “For my sanity, yes. As for remembering something that might help us, no. But you said the mind is a complex thing. Maybe whatever it is will surface after time. Maybe something crucial will come to me and counteract what they programmed me to do.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that again.”

  “It was good to let it out. It was good to have you there. I wish you didn’t have to see me like that.”