She no longer wanted to hurt him.
Aditya pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “How was your day?” She raked her fingernails down his back as she held him. She’d eavesdropped on him all day through the bug that she’d planted. She knew her time with him was running out.
She was already overloading his system, and she’d only been with him for a few seconds. Her perfume and the sweet crush of her body against him numbed his pain. He wanted to hold her for eternity.
“Not a good day,” he replied honestly. “Come in.” He stepped aside, and she followed him further into the house.
Mojo neared her and brushed against her leg. She rubbed the top of his head. “Who’s a good boy?” she asked. Then she looked into Logan’s face, noting the stress that haunted his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked. She pressed her hand against his chest to comfort him.
“Got some bad news.” He tilted his head towards the kitchen. “Let’s order, and then I’ll fill you in.”
“Okay,” she nodded in agreement as they made their way to the kitchen.
Logan fanned out the take-out menus on the counter. She read through them. Indian, Chinese, Italian, American and even an English pub that specialized in fish and chips were represented. “Order out much?” she said, trying to get him to smile.
She wasn’t all that hungry. Her body and mind had transitioned into self-defense mode with the threat of Savage Security and the American Military hunting for her. She’d have to disappear, change her appearance, perhaps even move to South America or Europe for a while.
Logan moved to stand behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and cradled her against him. “Sorry to have to admit it, but I’m not a great chef,” he managed to say with a weak laugh. “That lasagna I served you is my ‘go-to’ meal when I cook.” He never bothered with cooking big meals. It was only him, and he didn’t like the amount of time that went into cooking and cleaning up afterwards. He wanted to use his time for other things.
“Let’s do Chinese.” She flipped open the menu and looked over the items.
They finally decided on a few entrees with a side of wontons. Logan ordered and then slipped his cell into his pocket. “Let’s move to the sofa,” he tilted his head towards the leather sofa in the family room.
She gave him a crooked smile and nodded, and then she slipped her fingers between his as he led her to the sofa.
Logan wanted the comfort of her touch. He wanted to feel her against him, so he stretched out on the sofa and said, “This okay?” His knees were slightly bent so that his feet rested against the far armrest and his head was against the other armrest.
As she’d studied his behavior, she realized that he still didn’t suspect her. This wasn’t some sort of trap. She could still think through her options and hopefully come out on top. She nodded at him, and Logan pulled her down beside him, nestling her against his body.
He tucked one hand under his head and draped his other hand over her waist. Her hair tickled his face, and the Kanzashi sticks threatened to poke him in the eye.
As he chuckled, she felt his chest reverberating against her back. “What’s so funny?” She craned her head in an attempt to look at him.
He pointed to her hair piled on top of her head. “Your sticks are going to kill me.”
She laughed and said, “Sorry.” She sat up and pulled the sticks out and laid them on the carpet within easy reach. Her braid unraveled from the bun. “Is that better?”
“Much.” Logan pulled her back down against him.
She nestled against him, pushing the curve of her ass into his groin. “Tell me about your day. You seem sad.” She knew her voice sounded sad. She couldn’t decide if it was because she knew her time with Logan was coming to an end, or because she was still mourning her sister’s death, or because she didn’t know what to do about Logan and his friends. Sadness and confusion fought for supremacy in her emotions.
Sad didn’t even begin to describe his feelings. Sad over the violent murder of Lieutenant Shaw. Angry that someone seemed to be gunning for them. Irritated that they didn’t have better intel. How was he supposed to work with the one picture of the Black Widow that he had? All he could see was a pair of grainy eyes though the narrow slits of her niqab. And he was sorry that he couldn’t confide in Aditya. “A friend of mine was killed.”
She startled and took in a quick intake of air. “What?” She rose up on one arm so she could face him.
He traced his finger over her cheek. “He died in action.” That wasn’t such a big lie. If he was killed because of his part in the bombing, then in a way he was killed in action.
She tilted her head and saw the sorrow in his eyes. “What happened?” She knew he wouldn’t tell her the truth, but she wanted to see how good of a liar he was.
He wanted to tell her the truth. He hated lying. It never boded well for a relationship. “They haven’t released the details yet. I just know he’s dead.”
She knew he knew a lot more than that, but she wasn’t surprised that he didn’t confide in her. However, the lie seemed to roll off his lips as easily as the truth. She wasn’t sure if any of the pain in his eyes was from lying to her. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.” She leaned forward and planted a little kiss on his forehead. “They say it gets easier, but I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Lay down again. I want to hold you,” Logan said, easing her body against his. “I’ve lost a lot of friends. Some in the midst of the battle, and others lose the fight at home. But it never gets easier.” When they weren’t killed in battle, it seemed so tragically avoidable.
She placed her hand over his as it rested on her waist. She finally admitted to herself that she wanted him to understand her logic for the deaths that she’d caused. “My sister is dead,” her voice was void of emotion, as if she were stating a fact about the weather.
Logan’s heart broke for her. He couldn’t imagine dealing with the death of a sibling. He pulled her closer in a quick hug and kissed her head.
“She was my twin.”
“Wow,” he murmured as his heart broke a little more. Losing a twin was like losing a part of oneself.
“We weren’t identical,” she started, her voice filling with emotion. It was hard to talk about Riya. “But to most people, we looked identical. She had a mole high on her cheek, near her eye. Her hair wasn’t a mess of spirals like mine. She had beautiful, gentle waves that she could wear straight or curl. I was always jealous of her hair.” She gave a small laugh. “It’s true what they say, twins have a connection that other siblings just can’t fathom. I ached when she ached. I was joyful when she was joyful. And she was the same way with me.”
“What was her name?” Logan wanted to know all about Aditya. He wanted to weave her into his life. He hated the pain in her voice, but he knew that it was good to talk about loss. It helped one grieve.
“Riya.” Aditya hated that her eyes were tearing. With a blink, the salty tears slid out her eyes and into her hairline.
“What happened?”
“She was murdered.”
Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse. Logan closed his eyes in sorrow as he digested that information. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“She met this guy at college. He was vivacious and full of life. Passion oozed from him, and he locked sights on her. She didn’t stand a chance against his charisma and charm. But he had some weird beliefs, and he dabbled in drugs.” She knew she could only tell him part truths, but that was better than nothing. She didn’t want her story to raise any of his suspicions. “Riya had never been interested in drugs before, but he got her hooked. He sold the drugs and dabbled in them, but she couldn’t just dabble. The drugs took over her life. She lived for her next hit.”
She’d said her sister had been murdered, so he figured that her death was drug related. “Did she die in a drug deal gone bad?”
Aditya wasn’t sure how to answer that. Riya
lived in the middle of drug territory in a terrorist training camp. “You could say that. Some people realized what her boyfriend was into, and they came at them.”
Drug wars were often violent and bloody. “So it was a rival gang?”
“You could say that.” She snorted. “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Logan’s caress soothed her. She loved his touch. She loved the sincerity she heard in his words. She’d fallen for one of the men who killed her sister. Could she live with that?
“I’d looked for her, and I’d finally found her.” She sniffled, trying to hold back her tears. “But she died the night before I went to get her. I was going to take her with me whether she liked it or not. I would’ve done whatever it took to get her away from that man. I’m not sure who I’m angrier at, the men who killed her, Riya, or myself. If I’d been stronger or faster, then she wouldn’t be dead.”
Survivor’s guilt was an all-consuming merry-go-round of anger, grief, and guilt. “It wasn’t your fault. You should talk to someone about this. You need to work through your feelings.” He pressed his hand into her waist and pulled her tight against him in a semi-hug.
She was talking to someone about it. Expressing this to Logan was the first time she’d ever given the words life. She’d been alone for so long, working in the security of the shadows that she’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone to share her burden. “I am.” She squeezed his hand that lay over her waist.
He slid his fingers between hers. “I don’t think I count. I’m not qualified.” He leaned forward and kissed her head.
“I’ll look into it,” she lied. No one could help her.
25
7:00 PM
Cole pulled into his garage and cut the engine. He’d taken a long way home, lots of twists and turns as he checked for any tails. Now that he knew about the Black Widow, he knew he was under threat. He wasn’t sure if she worked alone or had partners that helped her gather intel and kept her safe in the form of backup.
He was always suspicious and careful, but tonight he was even more so. He wore his suspicion like a second skin, the way he did when he was active military. Maybe a man like him never truly turned off the habits that kept him alive in the theater of war. Always assessing for threats, being aware of who was around or who looked out of place, those little things could mean the difference between life and death.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and went inside. Disarming the security system, he headed into the kitchen and dropped his backpack on the chair. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out the glass dish with the leftover lasagna. He’d eaten with his parents on Sunday, and his mom always sent him home with leftovers. He was thankful for the food, but it was always accompanied by the not so subtle suggestion that he should find a nice woman to settle down with who could cook for him.
Cole wasn’t sure how to reply to his mother. The women of his generation weren’t exactly clamoring to be the next June Cleaver. He dated plenty, but none of them were Julia. But when he’d seen her the other night at the party, he knew he was done waiting. When this mess was cleaned up, he was going to get her. That was a promise.
The microwave beeped, tearing him from his thoughts. He grabbed a pot holder and took out the lasagna. Steam rose from the sauce as he set it on the table. He debated having a glass of wine, but decided against it since he would be focused on work tonight. He didn’t want to dull his thinking and miss something important in the pictures and video surveillance.
Setting his laptop on the kitchen table, he logged in. He would eat and work at the same time. Using the side of the fork to cut into the lasagna, he slowly made his way through dinner as he studied each photo, looking for anything helpful. Studying the background in a picture could reveal a lot of information. Sometimes shadows were visible or signs were posted that gave away someone’s location or associates. That’s what he was looking for, anything to help him identify the Black Widow.
When he ate the last bite of lasagna, he set his dish in the sink and picked up his laptop. It was going to be a long night, so he sauntered into his office. He loved his comfy, ergonomic chair. The lumbar support and padded seat cushion always felt great at the end of a long day. He settled in behind his desk for what he knew would be hours of scouring through pictures.
After a while, the pictures blended into each other. His head started to throb from the eye strain. Standing to stretch, he rolled his head and worked his shoulders in a circle. He grabbed his cell and went back into the kitchen to get another drink and some aspirin.
Opening the fridge, he stared at its contents. The options were numerous: soda, milk, orange juice, flavored waters, and lemonade. He didn’t want the caffeine this late at night, so he skipped the soda. He only had a little OJ left, so he skipped that too. He’d want that in the morning with breakfast. He decided to go with the store-bought lemonade. He knew it was full of sugar, but he loved that sweet bite.
As he poured the lemonade into his glass, his cell chimed. Picking the phone up from the counter, he looked at it. The security alarm app notified him that there was motion in the Savage Security office. “Hmm,” he mumbled. It was already after 8:30, and the cleaning crew wasn’t expected to clean until tomorrow. There was no reason for the alarm to be activated.
Whenever motion was detected, the affected camera would record in thirty second intervals for as long as motion was detected. Several cameras were throughout Savage Security. He tapped the app and went to the live video. The movement had been detected by the camera at the front lobby entrance that looked towards Bella’s desk and the hallway to the other offices.
Cole watched as Bella walked towards her desk. Gratitude swept over him that she’d returned for her flowers. He wouldn’t have to smell them all day tomorrow. Hopefully their lingering scent would be gone too. Relieved, he set the cell phone down and finished filling a large glass with lemonade.
26
7:30 PM
Logan slipped his arm around Aditya’s waist as she stood at the kitchen sink. “I told you to leave them,” he whispered in her ear, careful to avoid the sticks that she’d stabbed through her bun. While they’d eaten, Logan felt as if she were his personal Geisha with those fancy sticks poking through her hair. He’d enjoyed watching her eat; she was a master with the chopsticks.
“I’ll take care of them later. Right now I have other plans for you.” They’d had such an intimate evening. He’d known it had been hard for her to share the loss of her sister with him. He could barely talk about Lieutenant Shaw’s death, and Shaw hadn’t been a brother. But through their sharing, they’d bonded on an emotional level. Now he wanted to connect with her on a physical level. He wanted to feel her against him and bring her comfort.
She laughed and eased herself into his embrace, resting her back on his chest. “What did you have in mind?” She craned her head to look in his eyes. She knew exactly what he had in mind, and she was right there with him.
“Baby,” Logan murmured in her ear. “I love your hair, but those sticks are killing me.” Each time he got close to her head, the sticks threatened to stab him.
She felt the warmth of his chuckle on her neck as a twinge of guilt twisted her gut. She didn’t want to hurt him. She’d fallen for him, which was ridiculous. There was no way they could have a normal relationship, even if Savage Security never discovered her real identity. No, her past actions as the Black Widow had forever altered her life.
Aditya turned and leaned against the kitchen counter while draping her arms over his shoulders. She looked up at him through her dark eyelashes and said, “They stay on until everything else if off.” She cocked an eyebrow and pressed her hand against his chest. “I think you’ll like the look when these sticks are the only thing I’m wearing.”
Her sultry words washed over him, and his heart thundered under her hand. He knew that it was obvious what she did to him. There was no hiding his attraction. “Well, darling, I want to test your theory.” He eas
ed his hands down her sides and fiddled with the bottom edge of her shirt.
She quivered at his gentle touch. She couldn’t help but smile at him as she gave him a small nod of consent.
He moved his head forward, bringing his lips to hers, giving her the gentlest of kisses. His tongue broke through the seam of her lips and patiently explored her. He wanted to know every part of her, taste her, love her.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as his fingertips brushed along her skin as he slowly removed her shirt. The cool air and the lingering sensation of his touch raised goose bumps on her flesh. But she couldn’t let him strip her in the kitchen. She wanted to be in his bed. She still needed to keep her options open.
She trailed her hands down his body and pulled his shirt out of his pants. He gave a guttural growl in response to her touch as he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue. She slid her hands under his shirt and zeroed in on his nipple.
As he pressed his hips into her, letting his hardness rub her, she liked what she felt. She’d been emotionally detached from the other men she’d had sex with. They were jobs, and the sex was something she had to do to get the job done. But having sex with Logan resembled making love. She wasn’t sure she could kill him even if she had to.
He slid his hands around to her back. “You’re still overdressed,” he whispered in her ear. He took the back of her bra in his fingers and unhooked it. The material loosened. Slipping his fingers under the thin straps of her bra, he eased it off.
He stared for a moment, enjoying the sight of her body. Her breasts were perfect. Her dark nipples begged to be suckled. He cupped her breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze as his thumbs brushed over her nipples. He wanted to taste them.
Avenging Kiss (Savage Security Book 2) Page 14