Rescued Heart (Titan World)

by Tarina Deaton

  Jordan shook his head. “She’s out. Don’t suppose you ordered one for me.” Westin pointed toward the dining table and a covered plate. He grabbed the plate, napkin, and silverware and sat down on the plush love-seat. He opened the laptop on the coffee table. “Have you been watching any of the news about her? Us?”

  Westin drank some beer before answering. “There haven’t been that many reports on it here. One or two on BBC. Parker’s monitoring feeds back home. Why?”

  Jordan stared at the beer, then Westin. “We’re in a Muslim country. Where did you get beer?”

  “The fridge.”

  “No shit.” He made went to the small fridge and opened it. “Where the hell did you get Sam Adams?”

  “It’s Abu Dhabi. It’s the Las Vegas of the Middle East.”

  He popped the cap and rejoined Westin. “I thought that was Dubai.”

  He shrugged. “They’re about the same.”

  Cutting into the perfectly cooked steak, he chewed and pulled up a search engine on the computer.

  “You looking up news about Emme?”

  He typed out his search and hit enter. “Her parents mentioned a doctor who’s been making statements in the news.”

  “That guy. What a fuckwad.”

  Jordan stabbed the green beans. “What’s he been saying.”

  “Not a lot, honestly. Just the way he says it makes me want to throat punch him. He’s been on every talk show and news channel possible in the last two days.”

  “What’s his story?”

  “Parker’s looking into it.”

  He nodded and clicked on the first link. The video showed a slender, dark-haired man. “Emmeline France is a dedicated medical professional. She’s a very special woman and I hope she is safe, wherever she is.”

  “They’re all like that. He’s worried about where she is. No one is claiming responsibility for her rescue. That sort of bullshit.”

  Jordan’s forehead wrinkled. “Who is he?”

  “Doctor at the NGO your girl worked for. Parker’s digging deeper. Emme can fill us in tomorrow if she’s up to it.” He got up and took his empty plate to the dining room table. “We’re running in the morning. You in?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Later.”

  “Later.” Jordan ate while clicking through links of news reports on Emme’s kidnapping and interviews the doctor had given. Westin was right. He wanted to throat punch the fucker. Something about him was off.

  He looked over his shoulder at Emme’s room. Who was this guy to her? He closed the laptop, put it on the side table, and plugged it in.

  Standing outside Emme’s room, he hesitated. Should he check on her? He’d left her less than an hour ago. Would he’ve heard her if she’d woken up? What if she was having another nightmare and wasn’t crying out? He’d been stuck in those dreams, screaming in his head, but not making a sound while he slept.

  Screw it. They were all excuses to watch her sleep. Pushing open the door, the light from the living room spilled across the foot of the bed. Enough light reached in that he could see her lying on her back. Her hair had fallen out of its bun and spilled across the pillow.

  He was fucked.

  He stepped back and pulled the door closed again. He needed his head checked. She wasn’t his girl and he needed to remember that.

  Still trying to catch his breath, Jordan inserted his key into the lock of the hotel door and pushed it open. He guzzled the last of his water and crushed the bottle as he walked into the suite. Hell, it wasn’t even that. It was a goddamned penthouse apartment in one of the most expensive hotels in Abu Dhabi. He shook his head in disbelief for the umpteenth time since they’d arrived. Private security sure as hell paid well.

  He stopped dead in his tracks as Emme left the bedroom dressed in tight fitting jeans and a blousy, long-sleeved shirt. A large sling held her arm close to her body.

  “Hey.”

  He swallowed hard. “Hey. How do you feel?”

  “Human.” She toyed with the end of her braid. “Fatima helped me wash my hair.”

  Had helping been an option? “Oh. Have you eaten yet?”

  “A little while ago, after Dr. Tuska left.”

  He nodded at her shoulder. “He fit you with the sling?”

  She looked down at her arm. “Yes. I have to wear it for a least two weeks, but I shouldn’t need surgery.”

  She was adorable when she scrunched her nose like that.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  He tried to hide his smile at her accusatory tone. “I just remember, as a kid, you always scrunched your nose whenever you didn’t like something.”

  “That was usually because you and Doug were doing something gross.”

  “We were boys. Everything we did was gross.”

  “Exactly.” She walked past him and he caught a whiff of the soap she’d used. Something soft and floral. He’d never been one for perfume, but somehow he always seemed to notice her scent. “What’s the plan for today?”

  Shit. He’d tried to talk Westin out of this on their run. Give Emme a few more days to recuperate. He took a deep breath. “Jared wants to ask you some questions about what happened.”

  She handed him a cold bottle of water and pulled another one out from the crook of her elbow in the sling. “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s it?”

  “Sure.”

  He played with the bottle cap. “You good to talk about it?”

  She shrugged her good shoulder. “Won’t know till we try.”

  He took a drink of water. Was she being too blasé about the whole thing? She was holding up better than some guys he knew. Or appeared be, at least.

  “Are you going to shower?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Shower. That thing that has pipes that brings water up through the wall and releases it in a spray. Although my shower has steam too. It was awesome.”

  Do not think about her naked in the shower. Do not think about her… Too late. “I see someone flipped their sarcasm switch to on.” He angled his body away from her and headed to the bedroom on the other side of the suite.

  “Just trying to be helpful. You seemed confused,” she called after him.

  He grinned. Damn, she was sassy. “Jared will be here in less than an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  Fuck he was hard. The black silkies did nothing to hide his raging erection. So much for running out some of his frustration. Ten miles should’ve done it with the brutal paced they’d set. Instead, trading quips with Emme had energized him.

  He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the knob to lukewarm. He’d never been a fan of cold showers — for any reason. Pouring shampoo into his hand, he lathered his short hair, then ran his hands over his chest and abs. He gripped his shaft, stroking from the base to the head in one long stroke, pulling when he reached the tip.

  Emme in those jeans. Hugging her hips and lush ass. She’d filled out in all the right places. He’d wanted to drop to his knees and worship her body. Run his tongue from her belly to the junction of her thighs. Feel her hot center against his mouth.

  Closing his eyes, he braced his hand against the tiled wall of the shower and let the water cascade down his neck and back.

  Firm, long strokes.

  Would she scream when she came? Or go breathless? Scrape her nails along his scalp or dig them into his shoulder? He’d throw one of her legs over his shoulder and bury his face in her hot pussy.

  Short, fast strokes.

  Hold her up until she came all over his face, then lay her down on the floor and keep going until she begged for him to stop.

  The base of his spine tingled and his balls grew tight. He grit his teeth together and groaned as he came.

  Jesus. He might not make it two weeks.

  Damn, he was hot. She sat on the end of the bed and fell back, staring up at the ceiling. It should be illegal for a guy to walk around looking like that. Tigh
t, sweaty, t-shirt molded to his chest and abs. Short, black shorts showing off strong, muscular thighs. She followed pages on Facebook dedicated to guys like that. Man candy. He could have his own page and get a bazillion likes.

  There had to be something wrong with her. She had fading bruises on her face and her shoulder was in a sling, but her libido was still going strong. Yay hormones.

  Maybe it was a physiological, evolutionary response to propagating the species in the face of imminent danger. How would a study like that be conducted? Here, let me almost kill you and see if you want to have sex afterwards. Could she get funding for a study like that? Better question, could she get Jordan to volunteer?

  Knock. Knock. “Emme?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You okay?”

  Does imagining you naked count as okay? “Yes, just resting a bit.”

  “Jared and the rest of the guys are here. You up for talking to them?”

  She pushed up on the bed and sighed. “I’m coming.” She padded across the room and went out into the suite.

  Nope. No. She was going back in her room and not leaving it until the ugly guys showed up. Where did this company recruit from? Hot-Guys-R-Us?

  Jordan took her good elbow and led her to the sitting area. “Emme, this is Jared Westin, owner of Titan Group. Colby Winters and Cash Garrison, two of the other guys that were on the rescue mission.”

  These were the guys who rescued her. Her heroes. She threw herself at Jared and wrapped her good arm around his waist. “Thank you.”

  “It was our pleasure, sweetheart.” He returned her hug. She buried her head in his shoulder as the tears welled up. He held her gently for a several minutes until she calmed down. “You ready to talk?”

  She nodded and pulled away. That was embarrassing. “Sorry. I seem to be crying at the drop of a hat these days.”

  “That’s understandable. It’ll probably last a few more,” Cash said.

  A tissue appeared in front of her and she wiped at her eyes. “Thanks.”

  Jordan pulled her down onto the small couch and sat close, the hard muscles of his leg pressed against her.

  Jared sat across from them on the the sofa. Cash sat in the chair facing the room while Colby took one of the bar stools. Did they create the barrier around her on purpose or was it inherent to their training?

  “Emme, what do you remember about your kidnapping?” Jared asked.

  She took a deep breath and clenched the tissue in her hand. It was hard, walking them through the last few weeks, from the moment the gunmen barged into the clinic until the moment Titan rescued her. Describing the beatings was the worst and she had to stop more than once. They were patient with her, giving her the time to gather herself and keep going.

  Jordan’s hand was warm in hers. Had she taken his or had he taken hers? It didn’t matter. She drew strength from his strong grip.

  “Did you see anyone other than your captors?” Jared asked.

  “No. Only Anuli. I didn’t even see the other two women that were taken.” She caught the look Jared gave Jordan. “Why?”

  Jared leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands. “We thought you had been targeted because of your blog.”

  “My blog?” No one read her blog. She barely got a dozen hits a day. “Why?”

  “You talked about a lot of unpopular topics. Especially in that region of the world.”

  “But you don’t think that now.”

  “You were targeted, but not because of your blog.”

  “Then why?”

  “Did you apply or were you recruited by the NGO?”

  “A little of both, I guess. One of the nurses or doctors at the hospital I was working at mentioned it, I think, and I looked into it. What does this have to do with why I was targeted?”

  “Was the doctor Bennedict Wormwell?”

  “It’s possible.” Silence stretched out for several seconds. “Can you please cut to the chase and tell me what this is about?”

  Jordan let out a bark of laughter and smirked at Jared. “Glad to see it I’m not the only one bothered by your lack of words.”

  Jared sat back in the couch. “You’re not the first doctor to be taken hostage for ransom in the region. Four other doctors in the last three years have been kidnapped. All four had a connection to Bennedict Wormwell.”

  No, that wasn’t possible. “Bennedict might be a smarmy ass, but he couldn’t be involved in an international kidnap-for-ransom scheme.” She scoffed. “That stuff only happens in movies.”

  “All the kidnappings happened in Western Africa. All the victims were pretty doctors or nurses. All employed in some capacity by Medical Relief United. All were recruited by Dr. Wormwell and all had some sort of relationship with him.”

  She shook her head. “That has to be coincidence.” It couldn’t be possible. Right?

  Jared never broke eye contact. “We traced the money to him, Emme.”

  She stared at him while it sank in. “That mother fucker.”

  Colby coughed into his hand and Jared cracked a grin.

  Glad they found it amusing.

  Jordan squeezed her hand. “What was your relationship with him?”

  And things were awkward. “Uh.”

  “I need to know, Emme.” Jared said. “I need to know how he’s getting close to his targets.”

  “We had a brief fling.”

  “How brief?” Jordan asked. There was an edge to his voice and his face tensed when she looked at him.

  “Very brief.”

  “Who broke it off?” Jared asked.

  She looked at him. “I did. Not that there was really anything to break off. We weren’t dating or anything.”

  “Why did you break it off?” Jordan asked.

  She shifted on the couch. This was stuff she talked to her girlfriends about, not souped-up, alpha-males who had more testosterone than a professional football team. She dropped her head onto the cushion and looked up at the ceiling. “Does it matter?”

  “It might,” Jared said. His voice was a weird combination of soft and hard. As if he expected some cataclysmic event had led to her breaking things off with Bennedict.

  She raised her head. They asked for it. “He had a small dick and sucked in bed.”

  Colby started choking and almost fell of the stool. Jared ran a hand over his face, but she could tell he was doing it to hide his smile. She was afraid to look and see Jordan’s reaction.

  “What are you going to do with all this information?”

  “Well take care of it,” Cash said. “We don’t take well to people who take advantage of women.”

  “Take care of it like, ‘make him sleep with the fishes’ take care of it?”

  Cash grinned. “Who do you think we are?”

  “Uh, the guys who invaded Mali, blew up a building, and rescued me.” She shook her head. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that they’d kill Bennedict. It might make her bloodthirsty, but she wouldn’t mind seeing him bleed a little. Who the hell worked with terrorists and kidnapped doctors? It made her blood boil now that she thought about it.

  “We’ll make sure the right people are made aware of what’s going on.” Jared stood. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I thought we were going to be here for a couple of weeks?”

  “You and Jordan will be. We,” he indicated Colby and Cash, “are going home tomorrow. Someone from the embassy will be here sometime next week with your passports.”

  “Really?” she asked. “How are you managing that?”

  “I called in a favor,” Jared said.

  “Jared has a lot of strings,” Jordan said.

  “He’s a goddamn puppet master,” Cash said, earning a glare from Jared. “Am I wrong?”

  “You’re not wrong,” Colby said. “Modern day Geppetto.”

  Jared turned his glare to Colby. “Assholes.”

  She smiled.

  Jared came around
the low table and held out a hand. Emme stood and took it. “Call the concierge if you need anything while you’re here. I know you want to be home, but it’s good to let things die down.”

  She nodded. “I know. Thank you. For everything. For…you know.”

  “It’s what we do. Take care of yourself.”

  She nodded. If she said anything else, she’d probably lose it again. Colby and Cash said their goodbyes, pulling her in for a hug and telling her to take care.

  Then they were gone. And she was alone. With Jordan.

  CHAPTER NINE

  He watched her walk from the windows to the bar, grab a water and set it down, just to repeat the motion.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.

  She turned, the light from the windows behind her accenting her curves. “What?”

  He fought the urge to adjust himself. “A walk? On the beach. We’re only about a hundred yards or so from the promenade.”

  Damn, he felt her smile in his dick. She had one tooth that slightly overlapped another. It didn’t detract from her beauty, but kept her from being too perfect. Was that a thing? Too perfect?

  “Did you just say ‘promenade’?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that what it’s called?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m just surprised you know that.”

  “Because I’m a dumb G.I.?”

  “No, ‘cause you’re a guy period. That’s not normally a word a guy uses. Especially a guy who’s all,” she bowed up her free arm and tucked her chin in, “grrr.”

  He grinned. “A bear?”

  She dropped her arm and stood straight. “Not a bear. A, you know, manly-man.”

  He ran a hand down his abs. “You think I’m manly?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not feeding any more of your ego.”

  He pulled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “I think you’re evading the question.”

  “I’m evading giving you a big head.” She walked over to the couch and sat down. “I can’t go for a walk anyway.”

  Shit. Was she in pain? Did the doc leave anything for her? “Does something hurt? Do I need to call Fatima?”

  “No, the painkillers are working fine. I don’t have any shoes.” She stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her toes.