Hart Attack
Page 1
Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
COPYRIGHT
HART ATTACK
Cristin Harber
CHAPTER ONE
Covered in dirt and squinting against the smoky debris that rained down, Roman Hart growled into his comm piece. “Get me out of here, Rocco.”
“Working on it.” His team leader barked in the background about a new extraction plan. “Hang tight, Roman. Cash, get a move on, man.”
Cash remained radio silent as explosions blasted around Roman. The vibrations killed, his headache raged. Worry churned in his gut that Cash’s target was still active, and Roman hadn’t heard a word from—
“Would help if I had some eyes.” Cash’s words drifted through Roman’s earpiece.
Good. Still alive. Still throwing digs, not that Roman could help the predicament. Seeing as he was Cash’s spotter, this wasn’t the greatest situation. Another blast exploded. Roman took a deep breath, not loving the tight spot he’d found himself in, but, even more, hating that they’d come up empty-handed. The ground shook, burning ash floating from the black sky courtesy of some weapons-stealing asshole with a grenade launcher. “Come on, dude. Take out this guy already.”
“Gimme a minute…”
Whoever was sending grenades Roman’s way was getting closer. Another round of shrapnel and fire rained down. He pinched his eyes closed, waiting.
There was a pause in the blasts, and Roman checked his surroundings. Detonation spots encircled him, basically forming small craters. A few yards right or left, he’d be in pieces. Nothing sounded for more than a minute. His confidence grew that it was almost time to roll.
“You’re good,” Cash said.
“Took long enough.” Roman bolted from his makeshift cover and made his way back toward the team.
“What good is my spotter if he can’t say where the hell my target is?”
Roman grumbled. He had told both Cash and Rocco where the dude with the bag of grenades was, but at the time, Cash had still been on the move, not ready to shoot, and their team leader was too busy with the flu, trying to keep down his lunch and not bothering to lose his mic. But when Rocco wasn’t being sick, he was shouting orders. Dude was good like that.
“Get in, get safe,” Rocco muttered.
They had acted on bad intel, gone after stolen codes that could arm an older-than-shit nuke that had never existed in the first place. That was, if you read the news reports and believed reporters. Widespread panic had ensued among several foreign governments. Over a weapon that hadn’t existed. So Titan had been called in. Boss Man stayed at HQ and Rocco led their team on the ground because a stolen nuke and codes trumped the flu. Rocco hadn’t balked. They’d hit hard, though they’d hit wrong, and were lucky to get out with their asses still intact.
If Roman had to guess, Boss Man was in his element tracking the sources of the intelligence screw-ups.
With the weight of a mission gone wrong on his shoulders, Roman arrived to rendezvous. Winters was already there, Cash seconds later. Silent, they shifted in their boots as though each had the ramifications of the day’s fuck-up running through their minds.
Rocco appeared from wherever he’d been bunkered, shaking his head and looking pale, though that probably had less to do with a virus and more to do with a stolen older-than-shit nuke.
“Bad news,” Parker’s voice came through Roman’s earpiece from Titan HQ.
“Don’t wanna hear bad news.” Rocco scrubbed his face.
“Alright, okay news for now. Tagged their phones with a tracker. Soon as one of ’em makes a call, we’re back in business. Roc, Jared’s patching through to you.”
Rocco switched channels and turned away. Seconds later, his face looked darker. “We’ve done what can do here. Load up.” He stopped, putting his hands on his knees and hanging his head.
Everyone took a step back just in case.
Cash squinted. “Maybe a little R and R is needed before the baby comes.”
Rocco laughed harshly. “You think Caterina Savage has any intention of letting the flu in our house? It’d be all, ‘ay, Dios mio. Spray down with Lysol.’” He stood, looking like he was going to lose it again, but then recovered and checked his watch. “Chopper approaching from the southwest in less than one.”
As if on cue, the eerily quiet stealth chopper hovered overhead, making ripples in the late-summer air and stirring the dust.
Roman itched to get home. He dug his hand into his pocket and toyed with a small slip of paper at the bottom. Who the hell knew why he kept it, but he did. His fingers had played with it for hours on end, making the thing soften and roll.
“Let’s go, boys.” Rocco stood back, waiting for the team to load first. He had that look in his eyes, wanting to get home, and that had nothing to do with the flu. Winters and Cash hustled too. They were heading home to their women. It’d been a subtle shift as each of them went down that road. But Roman had noticed.
He thought about the woman who’d shoved the paper into his hand, promising it was only one of the many reasons he’d never get her naked. Thinking about that hissy fit over Chinese takeout, he couldn’t help but smile. Beth was something else, and damn if he didn’t want her naked and in his hands.
But for now, all he had was a stupid cookie fortune that said Beware of short life lines. It made no sense. Especially didn’t make sense that Beth was using it as an excuse. Then again, when had she ever had an excuse that wasn’t ridiculous? Each one was more absurd than the last, but that was likely because each excuse came with a slew of almosts.
Almost a touch. Almost a kiss. Almost a moment where neither could stop. But they always did.
The girl had a serious set of brakes when it came to him, and man, he loved a challenge. Swallowing her memory, he pulled himself into the chopper. Rocco boarded behind, and then they swayed, lifted, and moved closer to home, closer to her.
Yeah, he wanted her as a distraction from everything nasty that the world had to offer. He looked around, then noticed his serious lack of participation in the general post-mission bullshit as they all stripped gear.
Rocco groaned. “I need my bed.”
“Ass.” But then Rocco rubbed his temples. “You all haven’t seen shit till you’ve seen pregnancy hormones.”
Winters nodded. “Second that craziness.”
“You two and domestic, parental bliss…” Cash grinned as he unholstered his backup M9 Beretta. “I taught Clara a few counterattack tactics she can throw down in her next game of hide-n-seek.”
“Nothing she doesn’t already know.” Winters smirked at Cash. “Little girl is the queen of the playground. And that has more to do with the defensive maneuvers I taught her than your triangulation tips.”
Cash opened his mouth, but Winters shut him down.
“You guys realize how you sound, right?” Roman shook his head. “Little Clara starting a kindergarten militia won’t go over well with your wife. Tell me someone knows that besides me.”
“I hear ya,” Parker muttered. “Mia would kill his ass.”
Roman eyed each of them. “Christ. Tell me someone realizes that you’re talking about hopscotch or whatever instead of how RPGs were flying, Rocco’s puking, or Cash taking a tight kill shot. Someone has to think of something besides getting home.”
For a long moment, no one said a word. Not only was Roman a single guy not whining about missing the same-old day in, day out, but now he’d pointed out that they had lost their damn minds. All of them except Parker. Hell, if those guys weren’t careful, they’d all lose their edge.
“Seriously, if you weren’t reminded, you’d all get soft.”
Winters cleared his throat. “Roman, man?”
“Yeah?” He loosened the straps to his body armor.
“One word.”
“And what’s that?” He leaned forward, planting his forearms on his knees and shaking his head at the team. “You, my friends, are whipped.”
Cash started laughing. Then Rocco.
“What?” Roman narrowed his eyes.
“You can’t name that one little word?” Winters leaned back, laughing alongside them. “Ready?”
Cash doubled over. Parker and even Jared chuckled in Roman’s earpiece.
“What?”
“Beth,” Winters said, slapping his leg.
Beth. Roman toyed with the fortune that said he would die early and not get lucky any time soon. She was a headache for him even when he was on mission a continent away. “Nice try, assholes.”
But the truth was, soon as he had a chance to see her, Roman would be there, willing and ready to play their game, because it might not be today, might not be tomorrow, but he never lost.
CHAPTER TWO
Burrowed deep in her bed with a down blanket tucked in to ward off her blasting AC, Beth fought off a nightmare. She didn’t see anything. Couldn’t touch anything. Just that noise. The same one that haunted her. The sound of rope stretching, spinning, creaking. She wanted away from it. Wanted to pretend she couldn’t place the sound. But she always could.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Wait. That wasn’t her dream. Buzz again. Familiar. Pulling her further awake. Oh! A buzz in the middle of the night meant only one thing. Her cell was ringing, and Roman was home. Not that she cared. Ha. At least he warded off the nightmare.
Beth threw herself out of bed and grabbed the phone. Not ringing anymore. Which was fine. Because she didn’t care.
Buzz, buzz, buzz. She smiled, watching her phone blow up with Roman on a text message roll. So maybe she cared…
Roman: You awake?
Roman: I’m back. Too exhausted to go to sleep.
Roman: Tell me ur not sleeping.
She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and tried to focus on the screen. Not easy since the brightness was burning her corneas out. She didn’t think. Just typed.
Beth: hey!! awake.
This was like high school—if they’d had cell phones when she was in high school—but really, it was like passing notes in the hall. The same feeling at least, and she was basically grinning in the dark of her bedroom like the most popular kid in class had noticed her. Though Roman probably had been the most popular kid back in high school and college, judging from the stories his sister, Nicola, had told.
He didn’t write back, and waiting for him made her stomach twist. Seriously, she was a grown woman. A CIA spy. Not a girl pining for the cool kid to pay attention to her. Which he wasn’t doing anyway. Whatever, it didn’t matter, because even if he did, he only wanted one smokin’ hot, wham-bam thing, and that was such a bad idea. Buzz.
Roman: Let me up
Her stomach dropped. Hard. Her mind went a million places. This was so bad, so good. She was excited to see him and completely distrustful of herself. But that didn’t stop her from falling out of bed, adding shorts to her T-shirt-and-underwear pajama combo. Grabbing a ponytail clip to wrangle her pillow-teased curls, she ran to the bathroom, threw on deodorant, lip gloss, and lotion, then stared at her phone.
Beth: Alright. But I’m rolling out of bed. No judgment.
Why was he there? And why hadn’t she asked that before she’d let him up? It didn’t matter. No matter what his answer was, he would be in her condo in moments.
Wrapping a throw blanket around her and keeping most of the lights off, she wandered out of her bedroom, listening to the quiet padding of her feet on the blond hardwood floor. She could barely breathe. Her skin tingled, and her blood rushed in all the wrong—or maybe very right—places. Roman Hart did terribly delicious things to her, and she had never even touched him.
Knock.
Just one knock from the cocky bastard who showed up at her place in the middle of the night for no reason at all. She bit her lip. There was actually a very good reason she could guess. One day, she would lose the battle of ignoring their fire. Then she’d get burned. It would be disastrous, but not before it would be awesome.
Her throat knotted as she opened the door. He loomed huge, sexier than any man to ever walk the earth, crossed arms making his muscles pop, and he was staring at her. She tried to swallow and couldn’t. Just stared back…
“Hey, party girl.” His low voice rumbled over her skin. “Surprised you were sleeping.”
“Oh, you know, a girl needs her beauty sleep.”
Roman walked past her. “Guess it works.”
Beth’s cheeks heated. Even her neck felt hot. Using the blanket as a shield against his charm, she tightened it and hoped she didn’t look as flushed as she felt. But it was dark. Another layer of protection.
Roman switched on a hall light as if he owned the place, left most the others off, then turned on one lamp next to the couch. He plopped down and studied her. So much for her lights-off line of defense.
“Did you need something?” She twisted side to side slowly, holding the blanket even tighter.
“Do I need anything?” he semi-repeated slowly, leaning back, a dark, sinful presence on her perfect white couch. “Sit down.”
“M-kay.” As though navigating a minefield, Beth took careful steps and sat on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked underneath her, and wondered how his massive hands would feel running up them. “You guys got home tonight? Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Ever been too tired to sleep?” he asked.
“No.”
“How about too much on your mind?”
“To sleep?” She knew that feeling all too well.
“Yeah.”
“So… rough job?”
Roman shrugged. “Other than some dude trying to blow me to pieces and the whole thing falling apart, not bad.”
“Doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s much worse than it sounds, but that’s… not what’s on my mind.” His eyes held hers, and the look could’ve melted the Arctic shelf on a winter day.
“What is?” she asked, though she knew the answer.
“Games.”
Maybe she didn’t. “Excuse me?”
He laughed quietly. “Doesn’t matter.”
/> Disappointment bled through her veins. She wanted to hear, You, Beth. You’ve been on my mind. Shit. No, she didn’t want that… Actually, yeah she did. Beth bit her lip, confused and frustrated and angry. “Why are you here?”
“You want me to go?” Again, the rumble of his words drifted over her.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed in the semi-dark. “I don’t want to go, either.”
The one lamp didn’t shed that much light. But it gave enough that she could see something indescribable on his face. Whatever it was, it made her hands ache to touch him. She inched closer, her heart screaming to close the distance, her head telling her to keep her ass in place.
“Why are you buried in a blanket?” he asked.
“I was cold,” she lied.
“Better answer would’ve been because that’s all you have on.”
Now it was her turn to laugh quietly, but she said zip. This was their dance.
“I know, I know.” He casually tossed up his hands.
“I still don’t know why you’re here, Roman.”
“Like I said, I don’t either.” A half-grin hung on his face. “Just thought I’d swing by.”
“At two in the morning?”
He leaned forward. “Why’d you let me in?”
“I don’t know.” As well as she’d been trained by the Agency, she couldn’t look at him while she said it.
Roman caught her chin. Using the tips of his fingers, he turned her head to face him. Everything slowed. The room went warm, her body jumped to life. All she could feel was his touch. Espresso-brown eyes looked black in the dim light. His perfect, full lips were waiting for her. All she had to do was give him the go.
Beth let go of the blanket. It loosened but didn’t fall away. His fingers slipped down the slope of her neck, to the blanket, pulling it down farther. She shivered. Her nipples tightened, and she wondered how the stubble on his cheeks would feel against her skin.
“Pajamas. You weren’t lying.” His hand abandoned the blanket, moving to her thigh. The same fingers that had caught her chin now walked along her leg, toward her knee, then slowly glided back up. “I’m here because I like our game.”