by Ann Gimpel
Garen hesitated fractionally before opening the cockpit door. If there’d been anywhere else in the plane to go, he would have headed for it. He needed to be alone so he could process what Miranda had told him. She’d lied about how she’d dispatched Roulan and his man, but why? What did she have to hide?
It’s the same fucking reason she keeps me out of her mind.
Anger flared so hot it shocked him. He raised a fist to pound on the molded partition next to the cockpit door but stopped himself. For a moment, he wondered if she weren’t some sort of double agent who’d infiltrated The Company. He shook his head and let himself into the cockpit.
Lars glanced at him. “Excellent. I’d like to take a break and stretch my legs. Your airplane.”
Garen settled into the right seat. “Got it,” he snapped through clenched teeth.
Lars’ blond brows drew together. He looked on the edge of saying something. Instead, he turned and left the cockpit. Jealousy added fuel to the fire raging in Garen’s breast. He wondered if Lars would take advantage of Miranda’s obviously distraught state to comfort her, and nearly drove himself mad. Finally, he tuned in his wolf senses and tried to listen for conversation in the cabin. He didn’t have to wait long.
“You are looking distraught, fraulein. Are you all right?”
“No.” Miranda’s voice had a bitten-off quality. Garen smiled to himself. It sounded as if she’d just told Lars to go piss up a rope.
“Do not fear. I will see you safely home once we land.” Garen’s hand tensed on the yoke. He strained to make certain to hear her response.
“That’s kind of you. I may not be very good company, but I accept. It beats spending fifty bucks on a cab.”
“Then it is settled, fraulein. You are still not recovered. Try to close your beautiful eyes.”
Garen’s lungs filled with little, panting gasps of air. His wolf was nearly uncontrollable. Not that Lars hadn’t seen his animal form, but still it had no place in the Learjet’s cockpit. A feral possessiveness roiled through him, so intense he thought he might vomit. Where was Lars? Had he sat down next to Miranda to draw her into his arms?
Pay attention to the aircraft, an inner voice hissed.
Why? It’s on autopilot.
In case the sensors miss something, you asshole.
“Great,” he mumbled. “Now I’m talking with myself.”
“You always did, old friend.”
Garen’s head snapped around. He’d been so lost in his misery he hadn’t heard the snick of the latch when Lars let himself back into the cockpit. The other man settled into the left seat and plugged his headset into the instrument cluster. He glanced at Garen. “My airplane.” It was the way pilots determined just who was in control of an aircraft.
“All yours.” Garen tried to infuse neutrality into the statement.
Apparently it didn’t work because Lars asked, “Would you like to talk about what is eating at you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Hmph. Did she tell you what happened in Amsterdam?”
“Not all of it.”
A knowing look swept over Lars’ features. “Did she leave things out or lie?”
Garen shook his head. “I’m not certain if she left anything out, but I know she lied about how two of the men died.”
Lars’ nostrils twitched. “I tell you, she is like us—some sort of shifter. If I were a betting man, I would believe she changed to whatever animal she is and dispatched them in that fashion.”
“You’d think she’d trust me after all these years,” Garen growled.
Lars shrugged. “Why? Humans who can take animal forms are hunted and killed. Why would she trust anyone with information like that—if she wished to live?” He paused. “I understand how, um, sensitive you are to anything that smacks of criticism, but I believe I told you years ago to weed your agents out long before you do.”
Defensiveness heated Garen’s face. “How I run The Company has worked well enough.”
Another shrug. “Yes, but you have lost a few too, as I recall. Agents who could have been salvaged had they felt comfortable enough trusting you with their secrets.”
“Mmph.” Garen grunted. Lars made a good point, but Garen was damned if he’d admit it. “I’ve always been afraid someone would infiltrate the operation. It’s why I’ve kept the fully vetted ones—agents I’d trust with my life—separate from the others.”
“Just because you have always done things a certain way is not a reason to maintain something if it no longer serves you.” Lars hesitated. “The computer era has made it much more difficult for our kind to hide what we are. Our walls have gotten thicker, more impenetrable.”
“Your point?”
Yet a third shrug. “I am not certain I have a point, my friend. We are merely making conversation.”
Like hell we are. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about Lars’ intentions toward Miranda, but he didn’t. Garen uncurled his fingers from the yoke. Parachuting out of the plane seemed like a great option—except they were cruising at thirty-five thousand feet.
“Sorry to not give this a rest, but if you are not willing to talk with me, probably your oldest friend, then whom?”
Garen shook his head. He didn’t have an answer. He’d known Miranda was off limits when he started lusting after her years before. It was too late now. The die was cast. No way he could go backward and command his brain and his dick to stop yearning for her. “Thanks for the offer,” he muttered. “I’ll think about it.”
A corner of Lars’ mouth twitched. “While you are thinking, how are we going to keep her safe?”
Garen didn’t have to ask who the her was. “She’ll need to rent a hotel room for a while. I can position agents around her apartment. We’ll find out soon enough who’s after her. Although, it would practically have to be ISL.” He sucked in a tense breath. “Miranda’s stubborn. She’s not going to like this development.”
“It is for her own good.”
Garen snorted and bit back a wry laugh. “You know that. So do I. The problem will be getting her to see it. Damned woman thinks she’s invincible.”
“I rest my case. She has to be one of us.” Lars grinned. “We are the only ones with quite that brand of arrogance. I offered to take her home once we land. Leave it to me to convince her to stay in a hotel. I will make certain to book us, er, her into a very upscale lodging.”
Garen’s teeth clacked together with a sharp snap. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
Lars furled his brows. “Why not?” Understanding flooded his sharp-boned face. Pale stubble stood out along his jawline. “I see. You wish her for yourself.”
“I am not going to discuss this.”
Lars ignored him. “Does she return your affections?”
Garen stared out the windscreen. He felt Lars’ gaze move over him. Damn it, anyway. The man didn’t miss squat. He opened his mouth, but Lars waved him to silence. “You need not say a word. I can read the whole, sad tale on your face.”
Garen grabbed Lars’ arm across the few feet separating their seats. “You will not say a word to her. Do I make myself clear?”
“Abundantly.” Lars’ nostrils flared. “I had not planned to. It will make it easier to—”
“Don’t say it.” Garen’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth.
“All right. Just remember, old friend, you have had years to declare yourself. If she decides I am the better choice, who could blame her?”
Garen slammed out of the cockpit. It was either that or drive a fist through Lars’ grinning face.
*
Miranda’s eyes flew open when the cockpit door crashed against the wall. Garen looked ready to kill something. He swept by her and went into the head.
Holy Christ! Wonder what went wrong between him and Lars?
She rubbed the bridge of her nose between thumb and index fingers and stared out the window. They’d been chasing dusk across the country. It was still light en
ough to see mountains below. Must be the Rockies. Great. Means we’re not too far from home. She sat up in her seat and rotated first one shoulder and then the other. God, but her ribs ached. She supposed the bruising had continued to spread. It did that until all the subterranean blood vessels managed to seal themselves. Maybe going to ground for a while wasn’t all that bad an idea. She could spend time in her wolf form, which would speed the healing process. It would also put some distance between herself and the disapproval in Garen’s blue eyes.
Maybe I don’t even have a future with The Company. He’s probably fired agents for botched jobs before… Her heart ached for far more than the possible loss of her job. If Garen fired her, she’d never see him again. Don’t be a fool, she told herself. He scarcely even knows I’m alive—except for right now when he sees me as a gross inconvenience. For the barest moment, she imagined his blue eyes alight with lust, his body skin to skin against hers, his lips hard and demanding as they trailed down her body and settled on a nipple, sucking and teasing…She pressed her thighs together to quell the ache in her nether regions. She’d take care of herself once Garen left the head.
Miranda forced her mind away from her swollen clit. Sex is a waste of time. What I need are employment alternatives. Her eyes narrowed as she considered her options. She’d left the Army in good standing. They’d probably take her back in a heartbeat. Fully trained special agents didn’t grow on trees. An inner voice reminded her that she hadn’t reenlisted because she hated the regimentation, but she shushed it.
Her wolf howled in protest. The armed forces weren’t conducive to that side of her ever coming out to romp. She’d even had to give up the annual gathering—the one time each year when shifters shucked their human form and met in secret to just be animals and play. The Army kept close tabs on their Green Beret force. She’d never trusted them not to tail her, even when she wasn’t on duty.
Her mind drifted to Lucifer, head of the lycans. A powerful leader, he was also the most gorgeous wolf she’d ever seen, with his black and silver pelt and silvery eyes. He’d stepped in and organized them, ruling via a combination of telepathy and scrambled electronic transmissions. Things had improved for lycans since he’d scrapped his way to the top of the heap. Of course, there were things he had no control over, but at least they’d gotten better at hiding their dual natures. His prohibition against biting had helped too, since it kept their numbers manageable. As he’d pointed out, they could always create new lycans. The trick was maintaining a dynamic balance so they remained off everyone’s radar. “If those in power forget our existence,” he’d growled at the last gathering, “we can breathe a bit.”
Miranda always hoped she’d be one of the females he’d pick to couple with at the gathering. So far, though, she hadn’t been able to talk herself into getting close enough to even try. Story of my life. Both of them actually—wolf and human. The guy I want never wants me…
“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Miller?”
Miranda nearly jumped out of her seat. She ran up against her lap belt and fell against the thickly padded leather of her contoured chair. “How did you manage to sneak up on me like that?”
He eyed her. “I can be quiet when I want to be.”
“Yes, but I didn’t even hear the john door open.” She blew out a breath. “I’m usually more on top of things.”
“Well, you’ve had a rough go of it.” He took the seat across from hers that he’d sat in earlier and reached over to tap her empty beer bottle. “Would you like another?”
“How much longer until we land?”
He pulled his phone from a pocket and glanced at the time. “Maybe a little over an hour. I’m thinking we’d be better served to land in Olympia or Bellingham. We can rent a car and drive the rest of the way.” He keyed his headset and asked Lars which airport he preferred.
Miranda turned on her headset but missed Lars’ answer. She glanced at Garen. “You think ISL will have Sea-Tac staked out.”
“It’s what I’d do if I were them.”
“Mmph. What’d Lars say about airports?”
“He voted for Bellingham. I tend to agree with him. It’s smaller and more out of the way.”
They’re doing this to protect me. She tossed half a smile at Garen. “Thanks.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Not angry anymore?”
“I’ve had a few hours here to think. I agree I need to drop out of sight at least for a couple of weeks.”
“Thank Christ you’ve come to your senses. I was afraid I’d have to knock you out and lock you in a safe house with twenty-four-hour guards.” He blew out an audible breath, and she understood how worried he was. In their business, people didn’t talk about things like that. Worry and fear could deep-six any operation. Negative emotions tended to feed on themselves, so agents shoved them into a psychic cellar and barred the door with chains.
“Do you have a safe house where I can stay?”
He nodded. “Either that or a hotel. Your choice.”
“Are any of the safe houses outside the city?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
She ginned up what she hoped was a noncommittal expression. “No particular reason. It just seemed safer to be outside the I-5 corridor.”
“You’d be more isolated if something were to go wrong.”
“Cuts both ways. They’ll have a harder time finding me if I remain out of sight. Besides, I think Lars will stay with me at least for a while.”
Something flashed across Garen’s face, but it was gone so fast she couldn’t identify it. He made a sound between a snort and a grunt. “Really? When did the two of you get to be such close friends?”
Heat rushed upward from her chest to her face. “We’re not. He’s just a nice man who offered to help me. I don’t understand why that bothers you. You hired him for this operation just like you hired me. Besides, from what he told me, the two of you go back a long way.”
This time she read Garen easily. Surprise etched his features. “What did he tell you?”
“About how the two of you used to fly fugitives in and out of some of hot spots.”
He crooked two fingers her way. “What else?”
Her already warm face got even hotter. She was certain every freckle was visible. “Uh, just a little about the women you shared on some of your missions.”
Garen’s eyes widened. “He told you about that. Shit! What was he thinking?”
To hell with Lars’ motives. I do not want to discuss sex with the man I’ve been fantasizing about fucking for years. “Uh, things like that are really common in life-and-death situations. Don’t give it another thought, boss.” She waved a dismissive hand, desperate to change the subject.
“Oh, and how would you know?” Something feral blazed behind his eyes. Her wolf smelled his arousal and wanted to jump him. Here. Now. She shoved her animal side deeper. Men. All you had to do was mention sex and they were off and running. Yeah, well, I’m not far behind.
She straightened in her seat, realized she’d just shoved her breasts toward him, and forced her body to relax against the cushy chair. Her clit throbbed. Her nipples were hard points. They had to be visible through the fabric of her top. “Maybe because I’ve been there a time or two. It’s not like I’m a child. I’m nearly thirty. Can we go back to talking about where I’ll be staying?”
“Why?” He ran his tongue over his lips and leaned toward her. “I’m rather enjoying this conversational thread, Miss Miller.” A delectable spice-saturated musky scent rolled off him in waves.
She couldn’t help herself. She squirmed against her seat. Actually squirmed. The pressure of her thighs rubbing together nearly made her come. Her breath came fast enough he had to notice. She stole a glance at his lap, and then wished she hadn’t. The swell of his erection tented his pants. It took all her self-control not to make a dive for his zipper.
Chapter 5
Garen threw caution to the winds. He clicked off his headset a
nd tossed it into the next seat. His cock pressed mercilessly against the front of his pants; he could barely breathe he wanted Miranda so much. His wolf was nigh onto uncontrollable. It howled and snarled deep inside him. Garen forced it back. The last thing he needed was for fur or claws to sprout and ruin everything.
He could smell Miranda’s lust with his enhanced senses. She was so aroused that she was on the verge of coming. Strands of dark hair curled around her face. Her face was splotchy with excitement. Her blue eyes glowed warmly. Years of repressed desire slashed through him. He moved to the seat next to her and slid a hand between her legs. She moaned and pressed into him.
Possessiveness sounded an exultant note behind his breastbone. She wasn’t going to fight him. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. She opened hers and sucked hungrily on his tongue. His cock throbbed. She wasn’t the only one on the edge of coming.
He felt her fingers on the fastenings of his pants, and then her hands closed around his shaft. He wanted to do everything to her. Kiss her, lick her, suckle her incredible breasts, and run his mouth down her body to settle on her clit. All those things would have to wait. What mattered now was getting inside her. He yanked her headset off and reached for her pants, delighted to find they had an elastic waistband.
The logical part of his brain was nearly obliterated with passion, but it reminded him she needed at least one leg free of her pants, which meant one shoe off. Reluctantly, he broke away from their embrace and pried her fingers off his cock.
“What?” Her voice was muzzy with need. “You started this. Come back here, goddammit.”
He laughed. God, but it felt good to laugh and hold Miranda in his arms. “Patience, darling. I just need to get one of your pant legs out of the way. Then you can straddle me.”
Between the two of them, they managed to unlace a boot and jimmy one of her legs out of her pants. He folded the chairs’ armrests out of the way, settled his hands on her hips, and helped her kneel above him. When she lowered herself so the heat of her surrounded him, he gasped. Sensation so intense it set every nerve on fire lanced through him. Her muscles clenched around his cock and held on. Hard nipples pressed against his chest. He thrust upward and his balls tightened.