“I used the three most important dates to Santiago. The date he met you. The date you became his. And the date you betrayed him.”
“Never again,” she declared, meaning the necklace and her inclination toward him, before turning and running into the bathroom before she broke down. Her emotions threatened again. She wanted what she couldn’t have. Needed, and was afraid to take. She was alone with secrets and didn’t want to be.
Tearing off her clothes, she stepped into the shower and turned the water on so it could pelt away her misery. A hiss of pain escaped her lips when the spray hit her wounded shoulder. The pain reminded her she was alive and still in control. It drove away the feelings she didn’t want to deal with. She washed quickly and turned the shower off when she noticed the water turning red and her head started to swim.
She wrapped in a towel but couldn’t lift her arm without a tremendous amount of pain so she left her hair in a tangled mess around her shoulders and walked out of the bathroom. The room had been put back together and a First Aid station set up near the dresser. A chair sat next to it.
Noah stood behind the chair, expression carefully neutral. He motioned for her to sit.
All she really wanted to do was go to bed but knew she’d bleed out so she moved to the chair. She was back in control and coming down from the adrenaline high. Her mind was sluggish and her movements even more so.
She shuffled to the chair and dropped down into it. Seconds later two white pills appeared in front of her nose.
“Take these,” Noah ordered.
Too tired to argue, she popped them into her mouth, washed them down with a swig of bottled water Noah handed her, then handed it back to him and waited.
She heard him move into the bathroom, rifle around in a drawer and return. Seconds later a brush tugged through her hair. With gentle strokes he brushed the tangles out. Attie started to fall asleep from its hypnotic effect. Who would have though having her hair brushed would feel so good? With gentle hands, he gathered her hair into a ponytail and laid it over her uninjured shoulder. Attie was too relaxed to argue, so she let her head fall forward until her chin touched her chest.
“There’s no topical to numb the area,” he said.
Attie shrugged. Right now she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was sleep.
“Alcohol,” he said a moment before the cold sting of a gauze pad soaked in fire touched her skin.
She drew in a sharp breath as he cleaned the blood off her skin. She stared at the bed, not so tired now, and noticed their clothes were neatly folded once again.
“Who taught you to fold clothes?” she asked to distract herself from the fire poking at her shoulder.
“My mother insisted her boys know how to cook and clean for themselves. She used to say no wife of a Kincaid should have to clean up after them, so she schooled us.”
“I’m sure your wife will appreciate that.”
“Mom wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Camron too?”
“Yep, but he’s better at it, not that I’d ever tell him that. He has more patience than me.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone being more patient than Noah. Camron must be catatonic. “Right,” she murmured. “The competition thing.”
Noah chuckled softly and Attie shuddered. It was such a rare thing that lit her up from the inside out.
“Yeah,” he said. “Never could settle for doing anything less than Camron.”
She wanted to meet his brother he spoke so fondly of. To see if he really was more stoic than Noah.
“You’re going to feel the needle now.”
Attie braced herself. This was going to hurt. She’d had plenty of stitches put in when she returned from South America but most of those were done while she was out. She’d seen enough in the field to know what kind of pain was coming.
The needle pierced her skin and pulled the wound closed. Dots swam in front of her eyes as she swayed in her chair, reeling from the shock. It stung like a hot fire poker from her shoulder to her hand. Tears blurred her vision and she had to blink rapidly to keep them from spilling down her cheeks.
“Doing okay?” Noah asked as he prepared to put in the second stitch. “Two more should do it.”
No, she wasn’t okay. She was about to pass out.
“Talk to me, Kincaid. Tell me more about your brother,” she said, sounding more like a plea than a request.
“Camron is a year older than me though we could pass for twins.” There was a smile in Noah’s voice when he spoke. “He’s dedicated to his career on the FBI Hostage Rescue Team.”
As he spoke, the needle pierced her skin and the second stitch was in. Attie closed her eyes and focused on remaining upright as Noah pulled the skin together. It burned and stung and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.
“Are you close?” she asked.
“We are now. As kids we fought like cats and dogs. I always wanted to do what Camron was doing and he always had to take me along. I drove him crazy. We manage to get together when we can, which isn’t very often given our careers, but we talk on the phone or by email quite often.”
Attie felt herself drifting to the low rumble of Noah’s voice. She liked hearing him talk, always had. His voice was rich and low and steady. He could drone on for hours and she’d never get tired of hearing him.
“What about your parents?”
“They were killed in a boating accident ten years ago.”
“Sorry.”
“Thanks. As I told you, Dad was career Navy and Mom stayed home to take care of us, which was a full time job. Camron and I got into our share of trouble over the years, nothing serious, just mischief that left her with a few gray hairs. She was great.”
Attie heard the warmth in his voice and a smile touched her lips. She hadn’t thought The Rock was close to anyone. He always kept himself at a distance, standing on the outside and watching everything that went on around him, never really getting involved in matters of the heart. That’s what Saint Gabriel was for.
“My parents were killed when I was eight.” She gasped as the needle pierced her skin again and pulled it taut. “Uncle Jed did a good job raising me and Brendan. But you already knew that.” Her mind was getting sluggish.
“That was the last one,” he said, cutting the thread.
She started to rise but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Not so fast. I have to clean you up and apply a dressing. Two minutes.”
Easier said than done. Her head swam, her body hurt. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about the pain. Body and soul.
“Hurry up,” she said, sitting back down.
“Patience, Attie. Here, eat this while I finish up.”
He handed her a sandwich over her shoulder and she took it. She wasn’t hungry, or so she thought, until she bit into it. While Noah dressed her wound, she polished off the sandwich and bottled water and felt a little better afterward.
“Finished,” he said.
“Good. Goodnight.”
Again, he prevented her from standing up. This time he came around and hunkered in front of her. He peered at her with those damned sexy blue eyes that held her captive every time she stared too long.
“What now?”
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
Oh no, not this. She could handle Noah the machine but not Noah the man, not right now. She was weak, teetering on the edge of right and wrong and trying desperately to hold on, but this concern, this tenderness, was more than she could handle. It was easier to see him as a soldier and a machine.
“With exception to the fact I’ve faced death more times than I care to count over the past few days, been shocked, drowned, attacked by an anaconda and dropped hundreds of feet on my ass, sure, I’m fine.”
His thumb rubbed across her cheek in a whisper-soft caress. “That’s not what I meant.”
She knew what he meant and it weakened her resolve rig
ht along with his gorgeous blue eyes and sexy bare chest. His shoulders were built for carrying the burdens of the world. Did he ever tire of it? He was so big and strong and capable that it made her chest hurt. What would it be like to hand her burdens over to him? Let him carry them just for the night so she could sleep without dreaming. She wanted to forget, even if for only a few hours.
“Look, I’m tired, irritable, in pain and all I want to do is to go to bed. Would you move?” she said, wishing he would do it before she did something they may both regret. She just wasn’t feeling strong enough to fight her attraction for him. Not when she’d sampled how soothing it was to be wrapped in his arms.
“Maybe you should get dressed first,” he suggested huskily.
She had completely forgotten about being in a towel and nothing else.
“Turn your back and I will.”
If she leaned forward she would be able to taste those lips and take what she wanted. But she couldn’t, because once she crossed that line she would never be able to return. She wasn’t ready for that.
“Go take a shower, Kincaid, you smell,” she said, ignoring the little part of her that liked the musky male scent of him.
“Be back in ten.”
He rose to his feet and strode into the bathroom.
She hurried over to the bed, dressed in a clean pair of fatigues identical to the ones she’d had on and slipped under the covers, laying on her stomach to ease the pain in her shoulder. The last thing she heard was the shower turning on.
Chapter 17
Noah came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low on his hips and immediately noticed Attie thrashing around in bed. She lay on her stomach with the sheets tangled around her legs and waist. The bandage on her shoulder was pink with fresh blood. Her hair tangled around her waist and her hands gripped her pillow. She mumbled something in her sleep he couldn’t understand. Nightmare. He’d hoped she was too tired to dream.
She gasped for air, her hands going to her neck. The breath wheezed in and out of her lungs and had Noah striding to the bed. He sat down beside her, fear curling in his belly as he drew her into his arms and shook her. Her face was white as a sheet and her lips were parted as she struggled to breathe.
“Breathe, Attie,” he ordered when no sound came out of her mouth. “Damn it, breathe.”
Her mouth opened and she drew in a large, gulping breath. Her eyes flew open as she drew in large, gasping breaths. She stared at him with tormented eyes that made his chest tighten. God, he hated this. Hated seeing her like this. She had been through more in the past year than most had in a lifetime. It wasn’t fair and he wanted to erase it all, if only for a night. He wanted from the depths of his soul for her to be able to sleep in peace and never have to look over her shoulder for ghosts again.
“I was dreaming,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes closed. “Carlos hurt Brendan…and it was my fault…I couldn’t get to him…hate this…”
Noah nodded and stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He could feel her trembling and tightened his hold so that she was tucked into his chest. He offered her what he could in silence, allowing the decision to be hers. Whatever she needed, he would give. He sensed the battle she fought, wanted to charge in and slay her dragon.
“Brendan is fine, Attie.”
“It’s my fault he’s here.”
Noah cupped her chin and lifted gently so she was forced to look at him. “No,” he said firmly. “This is not your fault. Santiago did this. You’re the victim, not the cause.”
“If anything happens to him—”
“Nothing is going to happen to him.”
He could see she wanted to believe him, trust him, but something wouldn’t let her do it. A thread of doubt dimmed those bright green eyes and he wanted to eliminate it forever. Didn’t she know he would never do anything to hurt her?
“I can’t lose him.”
“I know.”
She searched his eyes. For what, he didn’t know.
“I don’t want to dream anymore tonight,” she murmured.
Noah nodded slowly. Her arms came around his neck.
“Make love to me, Noah. Just tonight, then let me go when it’s over.”
He lowered his head and took her mouth in a gentle kiss. He let her know he would give what she needed, on her terms. They shared a moment of silent understanding, content with just a kiss until heat exploded between them and things changed. The kiss became more demanding and full of promise. Until Attie jumped off his lap to stand next to the bed, panting and flushed.
Though he was disappointed, he wouldn’t push. She still had a lot of things to work through and sleeping with him would only complicate them. He wanted her. Had wanted her since the first day of class when she’d grilled him with intelligent questions and challenged his antics. Her bold attitude and militant expression had intrigued him and she hadn’t stopped since.
“I need your word on something before we do this,” she said quietly and with a thread of…fear?
“You have it.”
With slow, deliberate movements, she began undressing. His groin tightened. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t changing her mind; she was setting the rules. She slipped the tank top over her head with a grimace, but held up a hand to prevent him from assisting her.
He dropped back down on the bed and simply watched.
Next, she removed her pants and kicked them aside. His mouth went dry at the sight of the red thong. Attie stripped to her underwear was enough to fill his wildest dreams, but Attie naked was extraordinary.
With her chin tilted high she said, “I want you to promise me that you won’t ask me about what you see.”
Noah let his eyes wander from her tousled hair to her toes, then back up again, and went impossibly hard. She was gorgeous. Tall, slender and muscular in a very feminine way. She was perfect. He wanted to touch every single inch of her.
He wasn’t a fool. He knew what she didn’t want him to see. When he looked at her he didn’t see scars, he saw a strong, beautiful woman with a will of iron. He saw a woman he respected and wanted more than his next breath.
“You have my word,” he said.
He saw the vulnerability in her eyes the second the words left his mouth. She tried to hide it but he saw what she didn’t want him to. He saw her fear of rejection, the insecurity of what he would think of how she looked. He had never seen this side of Attie and it made him want to stroke it away until even she forgot her fears. He saw the truth, that she thought she was less a woman because of the scars, but to him he saw more of a woman. A woman who had survived. By the end of the night he was going to make her see herself through his eyes.
Slowly, he stood and let his towel drop to the floor, watching Attie watch him. She didn’t shy away when she saw how aroused he was, but she did look a little surprised. She really didn’t know what she did to him.
He reached out and stroked her hair. “I love your hair,” he said, twining a strand around his finger. “It’s soft and alive with color. I’ve imagined it brushing across my chest.”
She swallowed hard. She’d been planning on a quick roll in the sack without emotion or tenderness, but he had different plans. He was a man of rock solid patience; he could wait to have her. He’d waited this long. This was about Attie. About discovery. And healing.
He let his other hand trace her bottom lip and watched her lips part on an indrawn breath. “Your lips were made for kissing. I like the way they tilt, very sensual. I’ve had a few dreams about those lips too,” he said with a slow grin when she glared at him without real anger. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was off balance by what he was doing.
That’s where he wanted to keep her. Off balance and not thinking about the past or the present. He lifted her hair off her shoulders and tucked it behind her so he could see all of her. Her hair was long enough to reach her waist and hid too much of her. He was going to drink her in. Slowly, like a man thirsting for every precious drop.
&n
bsp; His hands drifted over her shoulders to her breasts, gently tracing a scar left from her imprisonment. Noah kept his anger at bay, quickly tamping it down so Attie wouldn’t see how the injustices done to her made him feel. When he cupped her breasts in his hands, she sighed softly.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the hardened nipples. They budded under his touch. Attie let out a long, agonized sigh. Unable to stop himself, he dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth and suckled gently. Her hands burrowed into his hair and held him in place as he feasted on one and then the other, loving the taste and scent of her. She responded by arching her back and moving restlessly against him, silently begging for more.
When her breath hitched he dropped to his knees in front of her and planted his hands on her waist while he trailed kisses down her navel. Her skin was rough in places and soft in others. An erotic mix that had his heart racing and his body straining to dive into her softness and take his fill. But he didn’t. Not yet. He had a high pain tolerance—he could hold out for a very, very long time.
Attie’s breath quickened when his tongue dipped inside her belly button. She arched her hips. He had to hold tighter to her waist to keep her in place, and held her up at the same time her knees threatened to buckle.
He moved lower and buried his nose in the red curls at the apex of her thighs. “A true redhead,” he murmured and dipped lower. Her legs buckled when he flicked his tongue across her folds and tasted her. She writhed against his mouth and gripped his shoulders as he brought her to the brink with his tongue. He wanted her to come for him like this before he took her to bed and pleasured her again.
“Noah…” She moaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. She was close but fighting it, unwilling to trust herself to him. He could feel her hesitation and her frustration that he could so easily take down her walls.
“Let go for me, Attie,” he said, sliding a finger inside her.
She gasped, bucked and fell. Her body convulsed as she shattered. He indulged in her essence until she slumped against him. Lifting his head so he could look at her, he grinned and said, “That was only the beginning of what I’m going to do to you tonight. When you dream it’s going to be about me.”
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