“Have you?” He crossed his arms, knowing he was pushing her but knowing that she needed the shove.
“What’s there to accept? I didn’t have a choice.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying.” She pushed away from where he sat and slid out the opposite side of the bed.
“I’m not implying anything, Alena. I’m simply asking a question.”
“What? Whether I had a choice or not? No, Brandon. I didn’t have a choice.”
“And I’m asking if you’re sure.”
“I said I was, damn it!”
“Okay, if you say so.” He shrugged and got up from the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed. I’m feeling kind of tired.”
“You’re going to walk away?”
He turned back to her from the doorway. “Don’t take it personally. I sleep when I’m tired. Lots of people do.”
“I didn’t!”
“You didn’t what?”
“Have a choice, damn it!” she shouted.
“I know. I heard you the first time.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
He came toward her. “And what difference does it make what I think anyway?”
“Because.”
“Because why? You don’t know me. I’m here to protect you. Why the hell do you care what I think?”
“I don’t.”
“Okay then.” He turned away. He knew she was getting fired up, but he hadn’t been prepared for when she grabbed onto his shoulder and pushed until he turned around.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“Say it again,” he told her.
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes filling up with tears as her lips began to quiver.
“Say it again.”
“I didn’t, Brandon. I didn’t have…a…choice.”
Her voice trailed off with the last word before she collapsed to the floor, sobbing into her trembling hands.
He cursed himself for putting her through that, hating the broken sight that sat before him. Damn it if it wasn’t exactly what she needed, though.
He’d seen it all too often over the years. The true victim traumatizing themselves over and over again as they dealt with a guilt that they should’ve never been forced to face in the first place.
He knelt down to where she sat huddled in a ball. “Come here.”
Pulling her up, he was surprised when she went willingly into his arms. She grabbed onto his shoulders and cried against his chest. The T-shirt he wore quickly became soaked with her tears.
He muttered a curse, wondering how long she’d been barely hanging on. He muttered a second one for being the one who had finally pushed her over that edge.
Sitting down on the bed, he pulled her into his lap and allowed her cries of anguish to echo in the room while neither of them said a word. It wasn’t the first time he’d comforted a woman who’d been suffering and needed someone to make them feel safe. He doubted it would be the last. Still, something about the unrelenting tears of Alena tugged at his heart a little harder.
He whispered calming words into her ear while brushing his hand down the back of her long hair. He knew she needed to get it out, but the longer she carried on, the tougher it was for him to hear.
“Shh…” He lifted her chin with his forefinger and forced her gaze up to his. “This isn’t on you. No matter how guilty you feel. This isn’t on you.”
She sniffled and her sobs slowed. It was as if she had been waiting to hear that from someone, anyone. And he wondered why no one had ever told her.
The small sliver of moonlight that reflected on her cheeks highlighted the trail of her tears.
With his thumb, he brushed them away, leaning over and gently pressing his lips against her soft skin.
She trembled under his touch but didn’t hesitate or stop him.
He had no idea why he was doing this. Or why he was breaking every rule he ever lived by. Still, he couldn’t help himself. As much as her tears broke his heart, he couldn’t deny the way his body was reacting to her being in his arms.
He pulled her body closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly, needing her to know that he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere.
He dipped his head down and slid his tongue along the column of her neck, laving long and delicate kisses on her nape.
Her body was melting into his. Her willingness to go wherever he was taking things fell off of her in waves.
He reached down between their bodies and felt the dampness between her thighs. Without even thinking, he began rubbing at her pants, doing anything he could to get more of a reaction from her.
Her body arched back as he teased her with his touch. And without warning he lifted her hips, pulling her body on top of him until she was straddling him.
For a brief moment, he looked into her eyes. Barely able to see anything more than a glimmer from the moonlight’s reflection, he pressed his lips against her.
She leaned into him, and the sensation was almost more than he could bear. Their lips stayed locked together, their kiss hot but not greedy.
Needing to feel more, he tugged at the waistband of her pants. In one fluid movement, he had managed to pull them down and slide his hand against her pussy.
He nearly bit her lower lip when he first felt her wetness. As he slid his finger inside, he watched in amazement as her body arched into his and she moaned.
His dick was hard.
Painfully hard.
He couldn’t stop what he was doing, though. Watching her head fall back with her hair swaying from side to side only made him want to see more.
She pushed against him, her pussy riding his finger as he continued to bring her closer to what they both wanted.
His impatience didn’t hold for long. He felt an unsettling need to make her feel good. And he was no longer sure if he was doing it for her or his own selfish reasons.
Hell if he cared at that moment.
He needed her.
He wanted her.
Dipping his finger deeper inside, he used his thumb to brush against her clit. Her eyes opened wide, and she let out a small cry of pleasure.
“It’s okay, baby,” he assured her. “Just let go.”
Not wanting her to freeze up now, he used his free hand to pull her closer as he quickened his pace.
It only took seconds before her body tensed and she screamed out his name. A warm rush of liquid poured over his hand and coated his fingers.
He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. It permeated his senses and lingered in the air around them. When he opened them back up, he saw her staring at him, her eyes wide, looking embarrassed.
He wanted to say something to her. Something that would make her feel better. But his words froze somewhere between his chest and his mouth.
All he could do was lean in and place a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling her into his arms to sleep.
And then reality sank in.
Pedro Tovar wanted her dead, and he’d do everything in his power to see that he was successful.
That wasn’t going to happen, though. Brandon wouldn’t let one hair on her head be touched by that madman. And with God as his witness, Brandon would never allow Pedro Tovar to harm another living soul again.
Chapter Four
Alena slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight as the sound of squawking geese did nothing for her pounding head. She pushed her hand down in an attempt to sit up when she felt a hard muscled chest beneath her.
She looked down. The memory of the night before came flooding back to her as she recalled falling asleep in his arms. He looked peaceful lying there, nothing like the man who had goaded her into breaking down. But he did look like the man who had brought her to the first orgasm she’d had in months.
She wasn’t sure whether to be angry with him for pushing or embarrassed for what had happened between them. She’d
been trying so hard to hold it together.
For her dad.
For herself.
For her very sanity.
Now that she’d broken down like she had and allowed herself to be completely vulnerable to Brandon, she just wasn’t sure what to do next.
“Talk to me.”
She jolted from the sound of his voice. “You’re awake?”
“I’ve been awake.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough to see that your mind is racing. What’s going on?”
She was annoyed that he seemed to be able to read her so well. Was he her bodyguard or her therapist?
“Nothing.”
She moved herself off him and stood up. She glanced down and saw the outline of his nipples pressing against his T-shirt. The silhouette of his lean and muscled chest was also evident. It was a sight she forced herself to look away from.
Whether from embarrassment or confusion, she tried her best to put distance between them.
“Nothing, huh?” He lifted his head and placed his forearm underneath, looking up at her. “I think you’re lying again.”
“Would you stop that?”
“Stop what?”
“Acting like you know me so well.”
He chuckled. “You’re mad because I’m right.”
“You’re not right.”
“You mean you weren’t having a thousand different thoughts about what happened and trying to figure things out?”
“So what if I was? What business is that of yours? They’re my thoughts. If I don’t want to tell you, I don’t—”
“Yes, you do, Alena. I told you yesterday. You need to trust me more than you trust yourself. If something is on your mind, if you’re worried, if you’re confused, if you’re scared, if something doesn’t feel right, you have to tell me. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know everything. You don’t know this man, Tovar. He’s not like your typical drug smuggler.”
“There are typical drug smugglers?”
“You know what I mean. This guy is crazy. How long did it take before he took a shot at you? A day? And how many attempts after that? This isn’t just payback to him. This is personal.”
“I know.” She dropped her head down in disbelief. “I don’t know how I got myself into this mess.”
He grumbled something as he got out of bed, but she couldn’t make out what it was. “Where are you going?”
“I’m hungry. I’m going to make breakfast.” He stopped in the doorway. “You like eggs?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Eggs would be great.”
“There are towels in that closet over there. Get yourself a shower. Food should be ready in twenty minutes.”
She watched him as he stalked away. He seemed almost angry with her. She wasn’t sure how these types of situations worked, but she tried to remind herself that as much as his know-it-all attitude annoyed her, he was also the same compassionate man who had held her while she cried and comforted her until she fell asleep.
Taking his advice, she grabbed a couple towels from closet and headed toward the bathroom. She glanced in his direction as she walked by. He was busy cracking eggs into a cast iron skillet, his actions just as methodical as the day before.
The water was bitterly cold. She might have complained if it wasn’t for wanting to be done as fast as humanly possible. She showered quickly, refusing to spend any more time than necessary surrounded by the mildew-covered tile.
She’d barely slipped on a T-shirt when Brandon busted through the door and shielded her entire body with his, pressing her up into the corner and covering her mouth with his hand.
It was only his seriousness that managed to keep her body from reacting to his body being pressed so snugly against hers.
“Quiet.” He mouthed the word to her but made no sound.
His steely-eyed glare told her not to challenge his request. She blinked away her fear, listening intently and wondering if the pounding of her heart could be heard for miles.
Voices in the distance were barely audible. Laughter and muffled conversation were all that she could make out.
Slowly, Brandon pulled his hand from her mouth and pressed a finger to her lips. “Not one sound,” he whispered.
She watched in terror as he pulled the gun from the back of his jeans, wondering if this would be it and Tovar would finally have his revenge.
Brandon stepped out of the room and walked away from her, moving stealthily on the wood floors, not causing a single creak.
She bit down on her lip, stopping a fear-induced scream from escaping. She suddenly wanted to run after him and not be alone. Despite her cries the night before, it had been the best sleep she’d had in weeks. He’d provided a sense of safety for her that she didn’t want to lose.
He disappeared into the front room, and she waited, trembling with fear for what felt like hours, though was most certainly only minutes. Several minutes went by before she realized her hair had long since stopped dripping on the floor. Time was no longer something she could measure by estimation.
Her fear hadn’t subsided, either. Her pulse raced, her heart pounded, and she was sure that her blood pressure must be through the roof.
Where was he?
What was happening?
A sudden crash shook the walls, and she heard Brandon shouting.
She hurried out of the bathroom and ran to where he was, relieved when she saw that he was all right.
“Brandon!”
He had his cell phone to his ear and held up a hand to silence her. “I don’t give a shit, Pari! Carl told me we had eyes on. Now what the fuck happened?”
Alena didn’t know who he was talking to but could make out the sound of an angry woman arguing with him.
“A blind spot? What the fuck do you mean a blind spot? Blind spots get people killed, goddamn it!”
The woman started to speak, but Brandon quickly cut her off. “Bullshit. Get Carl on the phone now!”
“Brandon, what happened?”
“Alena, please!” he snapped at her before returning his attention to the person on the phone. “Whatever. Just have him call me and find out what the fuck happened.”
He threw his phone on the couch. The anger emanating off him was something she didn’t know how to react to.
Instinctively, she wanted to go to him, ask him if he was okay, and find out what had happened. Her better judgment told her otherwise, though. Instead, she walked to the kitchen and turned the stove on, placing the skillet on the burner and beginning to cook the eggs.
He didn’t say anything as he came alongside her and began making coffee. The tension in the air was thick and heavy, and she wished desperately that she could break the silence that loomed between them.
Minutes later she placed eggs and toast on two plates and set them on the table. He’d already set forks down and a small jar of grape jelly. He didn’t look up at her or utter a word while he dug into his food and drank his coffee at alarming speed.
After five minutes, she couldn’t take the silence a moment longer. “Brandon, is everything okay?”
He was about to take a bite and instead set his fork down on the plate. “We’re fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Alena, just…” he snapped at her again and then softened his tone. “Give me some time, okay? Carl will be calling back soon, and I need to cool down. We’ll talk after breakfast and after you get some clothes on.”
Her eyes widened at what he’d said. Everything had happened so suddenly it hadn’t even occurred to her that she was wearing nothing more than her oversized night shirt.
“Oh my God. I’m so—”
“Don’t. You’re fine. Just eat.”
His matter-of-fact tone told her not to challenge his request. He had an authority about him, one that told her he wasn’t to be questioned when his dark eyes became even darker and serious.
She took a bite of her eggs, chewing slowly as she tried not to look over
at Brandon. Two weeks ago she hadn’t a care in the world. She was working a job that she loved, and a promising future was just within reach.
Now all she knew was that every minute was precious and every second that passed could be her very last.
And despite all of that, she couldn’t help but want to have Brandon’s hands touching her again.
Clearly, I must be going insane. Who thinks about sex when their life is in danger anyway?
Chapter Five
Brandon paced back and forth along the rickety boards of the porch. Despite his best efforts, his anger hadn’t subsided since their two uninvited teenage guests decided to take a stroll along the small inlet of sandy beach on their island.
He’d glanced down at his phone nearly a dozen times since he and Alena had finished breakfast, checking to make sure he still had a signal and wondering why in the hell Carl hadn’t called back yet.
No longer willing to wait, he was about to dial when his phone rang. He pressed his finger against the green answer button with such force that he was surprised his hand didn’t go right through it.
“What the fuck happened?” he answered.
“Calm down, Brandon.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! What in the fuck happened?”
“Mike was taking the west side. They snuck in through a blind spot.”
“Don’t give me that blind spot bullshit. Pari tried to feed that to me, too. We don’t do fucking blind spots. Especially when dealing with someone like motherfucking Tovar!”
“Jesus, man. You need to calm the fuck down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, damn it. What did you tell me when I first fell under your command? That first mission in Kosovo. What did you say?”
“Blind spots equal funerals, and I don’t like funerals.”
“Exactly. And neither do I. So how the fuck did this happen?” Brandon was furious. The more he thought about what could have gone wrong, the more intense his rage became.
“Look, goddamn it. I get that you’re pissed. I am, too. Senator Powers is a good man and someone I consider a friend. I don’t want to see anything happen to his daughter any more than you do. But we fucked up. Mike fucked up. What the hell do you want me to do? Build a fucking time machine so we can go back and have a do-over? Shit just doesn’t work that way and you know it! Now we had a problem. Luckily, we discovered it and not Tovar. Now we know where our blind spot is and what not to do next time. So you need to chill the fuck out!”
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