It's Always Been You

by Paige, Victoria

  He glanced over to his friend and said, “I just want to move forward. I don’t care what happened in the past. I want to marry her again. Nobody can give me a straight answer and tell me if we’re still married or not. Her name is different. She’s not becoming Sarah Blake again. We can always have lawyers mess with affidavits and all that. But I want a clean start for both of us.” Travis paused. “She’s Caitlin Kincaid. I want her to become Caitlin Blake. My heart already knows she’s my wife. I just need to convince hers. I’m in love with her, Nate. I love her, and I can’t even tell her because I’m afraid she’ll run. It’s getting frustrating.”

  “It’s only been two weeks.”

  “You’re forgetting I lost her for three years,” Travis said roughly. “You don’t understand.”

  Nate’s face drained of emotion, his expression hardened. “You’d be surprised how much I do.”

  His friend turned around and strode to the bank of elevators.

  Travis stood back, a bit baffled. Nate couldn’t still be hung up on Sylvie?

  Travis followed his friend, resolving to be less of a self-centered prick.

  *****

  Caitlin stared incredulously at the impassive man before her. “You want me to do what?”

  “Break the encryption,” Benjamin Porter repeated his earlier demand.

  Caitlin thought the admiral had lost his mind. She stared at the laptop before her. On its screen was a list of files.

  “Those files are encrypted with a 64-bit algorithm. You have worked with advanced ciphers before—almost unbreakable ones between 156 and 256. You can certainly handle this one.”

  “You’re nuts,” Caitlin muttered. “Ever heard of the saying: It’s Greek to me?”

  Porter’s jaw tightened as he regarded her. Not backing down, she continued, “Well this, Admiral, is Greek to me.”

  Ben Porter looked like a man who wasn’t accustomed to being denied. He was a high-ranking officer in the United States Navy after all, and the CIA. She wasn’t a part of the CIA anymore, so she wasn’t about to roll over or be brought to heel. Caitlin could have been more accommodating if Ben Porter didn’t brusquely introduce himself and commanded her directly to work to decrypt the files. She wasn’t expecting words of sympathy for her amnesia. Hell, for all she knew, it was still the CIA who had her and Jase hunted down. She bristled at being told what to do. A nagging feeling told her she had always been this way. A rebel. She still didn’t know whom to fully trust, especially with a hundred million locked in her head.

  But Travis trusted this man. And she kinda liked his daughter, Beatrice.

  “You don’t remember anything at all?” Porter asked.

  Caitlin sighed and looked at the screen again. The automated decryption videos that were endlessly run during her reprogramming sessions certainly helped trigger some awareness. Her fingers were getting restless and started tapping on the table. Finally, she sat down and said, “Whose files are these? I will need birthdays, names of spouse, children, and pets.”

  Porter smiled triumphantly. He pulled a piece of paper from the front pocket of his suit jacket. “Here you go, my dear.”

  Huh! So he reserved his endearments for when she complied with his wishes.

  Caitlin resisted the urge to shake her head and started hammering away at the keyboard.

  Two damned hours later, her head hurt, and she wasn’t freaking anywhere close to decrypting any of the files. The admiral stayed in the room, finishing an entire pot of coffee. He would occasionally walk to the window and look outside, but he would turn back, sit in front of her, and scroll through his smartphone.

  “I can’t do it,” Caitlin said finally. She rubbed her face, before staring the admiral straight in the eyes. “Not right now. I’m not applying the algorithm right.”

  “But it will come to you.”

  It was more a statement rather than a question.

  “Yes.”

  Porter inclined his head. “Good. Take the laptop home with you and continue hacking your way through the files.”

  “You’re handing out homework now?” Caitlin groused.

  A ghost of a smile passed through Porter’s lips.

  “I don’t get it, Admiral? What’s your stake in this?”

  “Travis is like a son to me. I don’t want your problems to get him killed.”

  The bluntness felt like a sucker punch. She inhaled sharply.

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have helped him get me out of the embassy.”

  “Listen, Ms. Kincaid, maybe you should be grateful for being given this second chance with Travis, relearn your tradecraft, and stop being a pain in the ass.”

  Duly chastised, yet still defiant, Caitlin shutdown the laptop. “Are we done here?”

  “Yes. You’re dismissed.”

  Before Caitlin could get out another word, the admiral punched a number on his phone and turned away from her—clearly getting in the last word.

  *****

  He was taking her out on a real date tonight. In between the Kennedy contract, getting caught up at work, and getting Caitlin settled, Travis forgot the basic rules of courtship—because there was no question what was going on here—taking the lady of his affections out to a nice romantic dinner. Instead of parking his car in the garage, he pulled up to the front of the house since they’d be leaving soon anyway.

  He had left a message with Sam to let Caitlin know that they wouldn’t be dining in tonight. Travis smiled briefly. Although Caitlin loved to eat, she was a terrible cook. One evening he came home to the smoke alarms blaring and found Sam and Caitlin laughing over a burned roast. They ended up having pizza that night, but Travis was heartened that she was attempting to create a likeness of a home life for them. All that was missing was the ultimate intimacy. That was about to change.

  When Travis entered the house, he was surprised to see Caitlin preoccupied with a laptop. He did not recognize the computer. Where did she get it?

  Sam met him at the foyer. “I reminded her a few minutes ago to get ready.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Travis responded absently as he made his way into the dining room where Caitlin sat at the head of the table, a frown creasing her forehead, eyes narrowed intently on the screen.

  “Cat—”

  “Shhh!”

  What the fuck?

  Travis tamped down his temper, or was it hurt? He had been looking forward to a romantic evening with her, but obviously, she didn’t feel the same. She didn’t even look up when he entered the house, while he had been missing the sight of her face all day. The disparity between their reactions started to bring down his mood, but he fought back the urge to wallow in self-pity again.

  “Got it!” Caitlin jumped out of the chair and flew into his arms, catching Travis by surprise. She planted a resounding smack on his lips, which startled both of them.

  Even as Caitlin sprang back after realizing the impetus of her actions, hope flared within Travis.

  “Got what, sunshine girl?” Travis grinned.

  She was adorable when she was excited.

  “I broke the encryption on the first file,” Caitlin said. “The rest of the files won’t be too hard. I finally figured out the algorithm to apply once I recognized the file headers.”

  As his wife chattered away in a language he didn’t fully understand, a cold chill snaked up his spine.

  “Porter has been to see you?” Travis cut her off in mid-sentence. Caitlin must have noted the tension that suddenly suffused the air.

  “You didn’t know?”

  His silence was answer enough. He said, “Go and get ready, Cat.”

  Eyeing him warily, she packed up her laptop and disappeared to the second floor.

  “Mr. Blake—” Sam spoke tentatively behind him.

  “Why wasn’t I informed that Ben Porter was at the NEST?”

  “I didn’t know who he was.”

  “But you saw Caitlin go into a room with him?”

  “No. I wasn’t allow
ed beyond the reception area, but I saw a distinguished gentleman enter the facility.”

  “These are the things I need to know, Sam,” Travis said tightly. “You may go.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry—”

  “That’s okay, Harper. Consider this part of your training.” He assured the young man. “Situational awareness. You need to be able to identify possible threats. Sometimes friends can be your worst enemy.”

  “Understood, Sir,” Sam answered. “Have—have a good evening.”

  The second Sam left the house, Travis whipped out his phone and called Porter.

  “Blake,” the admiral answered on the third ring.

  “Sir, I just found out that you’ve been to see my wife.”

  “Not sure I like the hostility in your tone, Lieutenant.”

  Addressing him by his rank as a SEAL, the admiral was putting him in his place. But Travis wasn’t backing down.

  “I don’t like it when things are done behind my back, Admiral, especially where my wife is concerned.”

  “Are you sure she’s still your wife?”

  Travis bristled. That was a dirty blow.

  “Make no mistake. She’s mine. Now, before we end up in a pissing contest, I’d like for you to tell me what exactly is going on. And why wasn’t I informed you’d be visiting her?”

  “I was the one who got her in the NEST program,” Porter said frostily. “I don’t answer to you, Blake. Dr. Lester is under my command. If you don’t like how I run things, say the word and we’ll stop giving her the help she needs.”

  “I don’t respond well to threats, Admiral.”

  There was a long stretch of silence between them. Finally, Porter said, “I think you’re overreacting. Caitlin is in no danger from me. The sooner I get the mob off your back, the better.”

  A normal person would feel castigated by Porter’s statement. But Travis had been honed by years of looking at things beyond what they seemed. The admiral was desperate to get Caitlin back into fighting form with her tradecraft. Why?

  “No way am I having her work for the CIA again,” Travis said. “The agency was the reason she was taken from me in the first place. I’ll come up with that hundred million to pay off the mob if that’s the price to keep the CIA’s fucking hands off her.” Travis paused, before he added, “Sir.”

  “That’s not what’s happening here, Blake.” Porter sighed heavily. “First your wife and now you? I just want to get Komarov to leave your wife alone.”

  “Caitlin asked you your reasons for helping, too?” Travis asked, strangely pleased that she wasn’t blindly following Porter’s orders.

  “Your woman’s got a mouth on her. She’s going to be a handful.”

  Oh, he looked forward to that, but not in the way Porter thought.

  “I’ll let you go. I just wanted you to know where I stand regarding Caitlin’s treatment at the NEST. I don’t want any surprises. I hope you understand why I’m cautious about everything that has to do with her well-being.”

  “She’s not going to break when a memory hits her, Blake.”

  “Nonetheless, I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Smothering her will only push her away.”

  There was that damned word again.

  “We play this my way,” Travis said shortly, leaving the “or else” hanging between them.

  The call ended on a tense note. Though not the first time they had butted heads, this was the first time Travis had issued something like a threat. He’d always deferred to Porter because years in the Navy had ingrained in Travis the importance of the chain of command. It had taken a while for him to shake out of Porter’s rank as an admiral and start questioning some of his ideas. Loosening his tie, he made his way up the stairs to prepare for his date with Caitlin.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It wasn’t easy to hide the thin, jagged scar that ran along the side of her jaw. Concealer might do the trick under some lighting conditions, but right now, the raised flesh was taunting her like a wart on a witch’s nose. Caitlin exhaled in resignation as she lowered her blonde mane to frame the right side of her face.

  In some ways, amnesia was a blessing in that she didn’t remember what she looked like pre-scarface. And she normally wasn’t conscious about the blemish. But going out with Travis? That man was perfection. He could have any woman he wanted. Clichéd as that sounded, it was true.

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Caitlin would admit, her eyes were her best feature. They changed color from a hazel brown to green, and at times, there were golden rings around her dark irises. She got up from her chair to slip on a selection from her new wardrobe. She opted for the ivory-tiered top with a waist-cinching ruffle. She paired this with a simple black pencil skirt. The look was very feminine. Lord knows, after wearing nothing but jeans and t-shirts, she was excited to primp again. She strapped on silver rhinestone sandals to complete her look, leveraging the extra three inches so her five-three height wouldn’t look too diminutive beside Travis’s towering frame.

  She took a couple of tentative steps. Yes, she could do this without breaking her neck. She hoped.

  After swiping a layer of pink gloss on her lips, she brushed imaginary lint from her skirt and stared at herself in the mirror once more. Heavens, she was nervous. Like she was the class geek going out with the star quarterback.

  This is not high school. She didn’t remember high school anyway.

  She was thirty years old. A bit screwed in the head, but she was told she was smart. Travis seemed blind to her scar anyway. Not once had she seen him look at it. He stared at her eyes or her lips. The thought made her quiver, and feel a tad warm.

  When she finally had the guts to make her way downstairs, Travis was already waiting for her. He had showered, and his dark hair was damp and curling sexily under his ear. He was wearing a blue dress shirt and dark grey trousers. His five-o-clock shadow defined his strong jaw even more.

  She wanted nothing more than to jump his bones.

  His eyes widened as he took in her appearance; his jaw slackened and snapped shut. Caitlin was oddly pleased for it seemed she had rendered him speechless.

  “Holy fuck,” his voice was raspy. He snapped out of his trance a few seconds later and cleared his throat. “You. Look. Exquisite.”

  He walked purposefully toward her, and she actually took a step back from the scorching look in his eyes. But before she could take a second step back, he had reached her. He hauled her against him and his lips were on hers, his tongue demanding immediate entry into her mouth. His kiss was bruising, forcing her jaws open so wide, she had trouble breathing. But breathing seemed inconsequential compared to the feelings he was evoking deep within her. The growl vibrating from his throat excited her beyond measure. Somehow his hand had gone under her skirt; she could feel its hot imprint on her ass. The hand slipped over her hip and moved between her legs, his fingers sliding over the crotch of her panties.

  He tore his lips away. He leaned his forehead against hers; his breathing was heavy and fractious.

  “Fuck, you’re wet,” he whispered hoarsely. “God, Cat, tell me to stop . . .”

  “Stop,” Caitlin whispered back, for she was frightened of the emotions he had awakened. His eyes darkened, and for a minute she thought he would ignore her plea, but he smiled and brushed her lips lightly.

  He withdrew his hand from under her skirt and said, “Right now, I intend to wine and dine you. But I swear, by the end of this evening, you’ll be screaming my name. Whether from my mouth or because I’m deep inside you, we shall see. But—it—will—happen.”

  Travis’s lips turn up in a devilish grin as he took a step back. He linked his hand with hers and tugged her beside him. How could he expect her to relax across a table from him after saying such words to her?

  Hot.

  Dirty.

  Words.

  She was screwed.

  As expected, she couldn’t keep her legs from squirming all throughout dinner. Ho
w could she when in between forkfuls of Travis sweetly letting her taste his dish, he was nailing her to her chair with smoldering, sapphire blue eyes?

  “Your fish not to your liking?” Travis asked.

  “It’s delicious,” Caitlin said as she shoveled a piece of baked cod into her mouth. It lodged in her dry throat, so she took a gulp of her wine. It helped, but not without discomfort. Travis grinned salaciously.

  Kill me now.

  “Are you okay, sunshine girl?”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you sure?” He leaned in closer.

  He sat beside her at the table. His hand landed on her knee as he asked the question, but it slid to mid-thigh.

  “Travis—”

  “What do you need, Caitlin?”

  “You’re not playing fair—”

  “I don’t intend to—”

  She tried to jerk her thigh out of his grasp, but he gripped her leg tighter.

  “Uh-uh,” Travis warned. But his eyes were playful. The bastard was enjoying this all too much.

  “Travis,” Caitlin hissed. “Stop this game.”

  “It’s not a game, babe. I’m just making you aware of your effect on me.” He released her leg, grabbed her hand, and pulled it over his crotch. He was hard.

  “Uh—” It appeared he wasn’t comfortable either, and she was thankful for the white table linens that disguised what they were doing.

  “I want to fuck you so bad.” Humor disappeared from his face. “But I’m afraid to run you off. Let me make love to you, Caitlin.”

  “M-m-ake love?”

  His eyes grew tender. “Has there been any doubt, sunshine?”

  Was he saying he loved her?

  “I-I need more time.”

  Travis inclined his head. “I know. But you have to know, the longer you make me wait, the harder I’m fucking you.”

  “Wh-what?” And why was she pulsing between her legs?

  “I like it rough. You do too. And how long you keep me from sinking my cock into your pussy will be proportional to how many days you’ll still be feeling me between your legs—long—after—I’ve—fucked—you,” Travis clarified. “I intend to fuck you every day. Which means, every hour, every minute, and every fucking second, you’ll be feeling me inside you.”