Worth the Risk (Book 3, Wolff Securities Series)

by Jennifer Lowery

  “Yeah.”

  He handed her two aspirin and a bottle of water. “Take those. It’ll help with the pain.”

  “Thanks.” She popped the pills into her mouth and chased it with a swig of water.

  “I’m going to stay up and keep the fire going. You both can sleep safely.”

  Expecting an argument about taking shifts he braced himself for an argument that didn’t come. Shea simply nodded and tried to get to her feet.

  He rose to help her, sliding an arm around her waist and she let him. Alsu was there to open the tent flap and help Shea inside. She took over Shea’s care leaving Kell to stoke the fire and keep watch. He sat with his back to the wall, Glock in hand, rifle propped next to him, knife sheathed to his thigh. Ready for anything.

  His gaze strayed to the tent which had gone silent and still. Good. Shea needed rest. She hadn’t had time to recover from her near-death experience. Physically or mentally. Eventually, they would stop running and everything would catch up to her. She was tough, but something like that didn’t leave you free of scars. Literally or figuratively.

  He just hoped he was there when it all came crashing down. No matter what the implications. Like it or not, he and Shea were bonded for life through the loss of their child and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  Shea listened to the sound of Alsu’s soft breathing. Poor woman had been asleep before her head hit the pillow. Although exhausted, Shea was having trouble falling asleep. Her body screamed in protest at sleeping on the hard ground, her ankle pulsing. She’d put one of the bags underneath it to elevate it, but it wasn’t helping much. The aspirin Kell had given her had yet to kick in. Pain didn’t scare her. Going through interrogation training on The Farm had cured her of that.

  What scared her was being in such close confines as Kell and carrying her secret. A secret that would tear them apart forever. Definitely the last nail in the coffin. She kept secrets for a living, but this one ate at her.

  Being so close to Kell brought up old feelings. Old memories she’d tried to forget. To move past. Right now they were flooding back with a vengeance. Filling her head full of images and fantasies. Of Kell crouched at her feet, staring up at her as he pleasured her with his mouth. Of Kell biting down on her neck as he came inside her with deep, sensual thrusts that brought on her own orgasm.

  Her body heated, her belly tightening with arousal. Every time she remembered that weekend her body betrayed her. Remembering. Wanting. Craving. Like a drug she’d give her life to taste again.

  Yet, here he was and she couldn’t act on any of her desires. Not until she confessed her secrets. Effectively destroying any chance there was for them to reconcile.

  A different kind of pain washed through her. This one shredding her heart. The one thing she’d tried so hard to protect. Kell had worked his way past her defenses in three mind-numbing days and tipped her world on it’s side.

  She was still trying to recover from the impact.

  Maybe, someday, he would forgive her.

  22

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Dan Peters settled more comfortable in the plush seat of the jet being prepared to take the embassy workers back to the U.S. until the threat was removed from A-Stan. Not that he needed protecting. He had certain contacts in country that assured him he wouldn’t be harmed. Not a good idea to bite the hand that fed you.

  He didn’t want to go back to Langley. To his stuffy office. He rather liked it here. The people of this country treated him like a king. Like he mattered. Gave him the recognition he deserved. Unlike the suits back at Langley. They gave him just enough to keep him there. After passing him over for this last promotion he’d had it with the politics and turned his attention elsewhere. To people who would take him where he desired to be. Give him the power he deserved.

  The power he had in this country didn’t go to his head. He wouldn’t let it. That would be dangerous. People made mistakes when they let pride get the best of them. Not him. He knew how to play this game. Hell, he’d invented the game.

  His cell rang. He glanced at the number on the screen and his mouth thinned. What the hell were they calling him for?

  “What?” he answered.

  “Sir, we have a problem.”

  “Excuse me?” His gut churned, threatening to refuse the meal he’d eaten a little bit ago.

  “The woman. She is…”

  He turned in his seat so no-one else would overhear. “Is what?” he ground out.

  “Gone.”

  “Yes, that’s the idea.”

  A pause. “No, sir. She’s gone. The cell is empty.”

  Dan’s stomach hit the floor. A cold sweat washed over him. Gone? How in the hell could that be? She’d been strapped to a metal table under the city where no-one could hear her cries. He’d used those tunnels many times in the past and no-one had ever escaped.

  Then again, this was Shea Morrissey. One of the best agents to come off The Farm. Did it really surprise him she’d found a way to escape?

  The how didn’t matter. What mattered was finding her. Before she used her knowledge against him to bring him down. He’d betrayed her. Betrayed his country. A crime worthy of the electric chair. The reasons he did it were of no concern. Not to the one’s who would condemn him. The one’s who drove him to it in the first place. If only they’d seen his potential things would have worked out much differently.

  “Find her,” he seethed, resisting the urge to squeeze the phone until it broke. The one woman who could destroy him was on the loose and he was being forced to leave the country so he couldn’t find her himself. No-one knew Shea better than he did. No-one understood how her mind worked. Hell, he’d trained that mind. “And look into the maid. She’s a local. Might be something there we can use.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me when it’s finished.”

  The line disconnected. Dan wrapped the cell in his hand, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. Fuck. His little bird had flown the coop and now she was out there, a threat to everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish.

  And he was stuck on this damn plane, going to the fucking United States to sit behind a desk and pretend he liked what he was doing. Instead of being here joining the manhunt himself.

  Rage ripped through him. He wanted to walk off this plane and go into the field. It had been awhile since he went on the hunt. He actually missed it. His hands tingled with the prospect of holding a gun again. Of using it on his little traitor.

  How the fuck had she pulled it off? She should have bled out within hours. He almost called back and told them not to kill her, but to hold her for him so he could ask her how she’d done it.

  He squashed that curious part of him. The awe and respect for his little bird. She always managed to surprise him. And damn if he didn’t love that. No-one had ever challenged him like she did. He would miss that. Hell, he’d miss her. She’d been like a daughter to him. More so than his biological daughters who barely gave him a glance from over their fancy phones during those times he was home. It bothered him, but he got it. He was an absent father. Gone more than he was home. Putting work before his family. The missing bond there was his fault and try as he might there wasn’t enough money in the world to bridge that gap.

  The pilot’s voice came through the speakers announcing their departure. Dan sat back in his seat, stared out the window. Time to go home and pretend he wanted to be there.

  Shea woke up in pain. Her ankle throbbed, her neck tweaked from sleeping wrong. Her entire body ached. Felt like she had the flu. Every muscle ached, she had the chills, her head was full of cotton. Her tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of her mouth and she barely had enough saliva to moisten her dry lips.

  Alsu wasn’t in the tent and her sleeping bag was gone. Didn’t surprise her. Alsu was always up before the crack of dawn. No sunshine illuminated the tent but light shown through. A cloudy day. Hopefully it didn’t mean a storm was coming. Storms could b
e brutal out here.

  She tried to sit up and bit back a cry of agony as she moved her leg. Falling back against the ground she closed her eyes and took a couple calming breaths. Her foot had fallen off the bag in the night and it definitely had swelled. She could feel her heartbeat beneath the bandage. How she was going to get her boot on she didn’t know. Let alone walk. They had miles to go before they reached the village.

  How was she going to make it?

  Damn it.

  She fisted her hands at her sides. She hated this. Hated being weak. Hated her body working against her.

  Anger exploded inside her along with a healthy dose of helplessness. Which only made her more angry.

  Footsteps approached the tent. “Shea? You up?”

  Kell.

  She scrambled to sit up, ignoring her protesting muscles. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “We need to get moving. Let me know if you need help getting your boot on.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Crap. He hesitated before walking off. She’d agreed too fast. Normally she wouldn’t agree at all. She wasn’t the type who accepted help very easily. Never had.

  She held her breath waiting for him to walk away. Praying he didn’t question her. After a moment, his footsteps receded. Shea let out a sigh of relief and reached for her boot. No way could she let them know how much pain she was in. They couldn’t afford anything slowing them down.

  After putting one boot on she loosened the laces of the second one as much as she could and tried to slip her foot into it. She got her toes in, then her instep. And that’s where things went wrong. It wouldn’t go on any further.

  Shea tugged, pulled, biting her lip against the agony of trying to squeeze her foot into an unforgiving object.

  After a few minutes of trying she couldn’t take it anymore and threw the boot down with a low curse.

  Footsteps again. Then the zipper being unzipped. Kell crouched in the opening. “Ready?” His gaze dropped to her overturned boot, the other one on her foot, and her fisted hands.

  “Christ, Shea. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He crawled into the tent with her, the small space barely room for both of them. The warmth of his body seeped into hers as he picked up the boot and held it in his hand.

  “My foot is too swollen,” she said, disgusted with herself. “It won’t go on.”

  “Then we find another way.”

  She turned to look at him, their faces only inches from one another. God, she could smell him. Manly, like the outdoors. She’d loved the way he smelled. It brought back disturbing memories. Ones she couldn’t afford to think about right now. Not when he was so close.

  She looked away, not wanting to see if there was attraction in his eyes too.

  “Come on,” he said, breaking the moment, “Let’s get you outside so we can figure this out.”

  He put an arm around her and helped inch her out of the tent. Outside, she limped to a rock and Kell helped her sit down. She hated that she needed assistance but any weight she put on her foot shot daggers through her entire body.

  Alsu rushed to her side, looked at her foot, then at Kell. “She can’t walk on this foot.”

  “I know. I’m working on a plan.”

  “Just get the boot on,” Shea said. “You’re strong enough to do it, Kell. I can’t. Once it’s on I’ll be fine.”

  Alsu shook her head. “No. That is too much pain for her. We must find another way.”

  Kell looked torn and she felt sorry for him. But, this wasn’t his decision. It was hers. And they had to keep going. Either that or leave her behind. She didn’t relish that idea, but it might be the only chance they had.

  “Leave me,” she said. “You go and find the village. If you can come back for me then do it. If not, I’ll be fine. Leave me some water and food and I’m good to go.” Even as she said the words she prayed they didn’t do it. Being alone out here didn’t appeal whatsoever. Odd for a woman who spent her life alone. Surrounded by people, but alone.

  “Like hell we will,” Kell said, sounding angry.

  “It’s the only choice we have. I can’t walk and you can’t carry me.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  He sounded so certain she let a glimmer of hope shine through her despair. Kell Wolff was nothing if not determined. If he said he would carry her she knew she could take it to the bank. He’d die trying. And she wasn’t letting that happen.

  “I won’t let you,” she said.

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  She glared at him. “Yes, I do. Be realistic, Kell. You can’t carry me miles through the mountains along with all our gear.”

  “I’ve carried more for longer distances.”

  As a Delta operator she believed him. But this was different. She wasn’t a rucksack he could throw on his back. He’d have to carry her in his arms and no-one was that strong. Not even a man with the determination of an army.

  “Yes, yes. You carry her. I will carry the supplies,” Alsu agreed. “We will find sticks. To make…bed.” She struggled for the right word.

  Kell filled in for her. “Drag carry.”

  Alsu frowned at the terminology but nodded anyway. “The trees, they grow taller. Stronger.” She pointed to the north.

  It was a good plan, but could Kell carry her all that way? What if they ran into trouble? He’d need his hands free and she’d be useless as she was.

  “We have a plan,” Kell said, sending her a don’t-you-dare-argue-with-me look and started breaking down their camp. Covering their tracks, just in case.

  Shea felt like an imbecile just sitting there doing nothing. God, she hated this. She should be the one helping and carrying extra weight.

  When the camp had been nearly erased, the fire pit buried, their tracks brushed away, Kell helped Alsu condense the gear and made a makeshift backpack for easier carrying.

  Then he came over to where she sat, swung her into his arms and started walking north. Shea had no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck and go with it.

  Easier said than done with his hard body pressed against hers, his warm breath brushing her hair. With every step he took she could feel the muscles in his body bunching and rolling with power. It was intoxicating.

  Or, would be, if she weren’t feeling so inept. She’d never been carried a day in her life. She’d always carried her own weight. Refused to be a burden on anyone. Didn’t like being in their debt.

  Of course Kell carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather. Every now and then he would stop, adjust her in his arms, and start again. He didn’t listen when she said she was fine to walk for a bit.

  Stubborn man.

  They stopped for breaks often, at her insistence. When they did she attempted to slip her foot into her boot but it just wouldn’t go on. And, being carried like this her foot wasn’t elevated so it had swelled even more.

  They hadn’t found any branches big or strong enough to make a basket to carry her in. Kell continued to carry her without complaint. Not that she expected him to.

  She glanced up and stared at the stubble shadowing his jaw. More a beard than stubble at this point. It was sexy as all get out.

  His gaze met hers briefly. “Okay?”

  “I’d be better if I was walking,” she muttered.

  He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. She found it oddly comforting. And for a moment it felt like everything was going to be all right.

  23

  Kell didn’t like the glazed look in Shea’s eyes. Or the warmth of her body against his. It was too warm. Feverish. But she still had her spunk so he hoped he was being overly cautious. They couldn’t afford an infection of any kind out here. Not without antibiotics.

  He hadn’t been this close to her in a long time and keeping his mind out of the gutter proved difficult when he could smell her, feel every curve. Made him want to explore those dips and curves with his tongue.

  Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Kell gl
anced up at the sky. The sun hadn’t been out all day. Just clouds. No storm brewing yet but he could feel it in the air. They needed to get to the village before it broke.

  Alsu suddenly stopped. “We are there,” she said with a longing in her voice. He knew the feeling. Coming home was an overwhelming feeling.

  She started walking again, this time faster. Kell lengthened his stride to keep up as they crested a hill that overlooked a valley. Mudbrick homes with thatched roofs occupied the lowest part.

  Alsu started running as they approached the village. Kell didn’t like that she wasn’t cautious. Yes, this was her home, but they had no idea if the IPA had taken it over or not. With luck, not.

  Shea moaned something against his shoulder. He looked down to see her eyes closed, perspiration beading her forehead. She hadn’t spoken in awhile. In fact, she hadn’t done much in the past couple hours.

  Ahead of him on the dusty trail Alsu flew into the arms of an older man wearing a long robe and sandals. Soon, people surrounded them, flocking like birds.

  Alsu pulled him forward, her eyes wet. “This is my father,” she said in Azebek. “Gulbanu. He will help us. Come, there is a storm coming.”

  With all the chaos around him, Kell figured Shea would wake up but she remained sleeping. Which worried him. Her skin was too hot, her cheeks flushed, her breathing rapid.

  The crowd led them to one of the square homes stacked with the others. Alsu’s father stood aside and motioned for him to go in.

  He did, stepping onto the hard-packed floor. No bed. Not even a cot. Just blankets and a pillow laid out on the floor. A homemade wooden table with a pitcher and bowl sitting on top. A crude chair next to the table. Lots of rugs covering the dirt floor and walls. The mud had been hardened and dried to the point it was nearly brick. Definitely would provide protection from the storm.

  A woman shuffled in with Alsu, her long gown nearly brushing the floor. She couldn’t stand more than five foot. Maybe. Alsu bowed to her.

  “My mother,” she announced. “Oksana. She is a healer, too.”