Dangerously Entwined

by Sidney Bristol

  “They weren’t after the girl?” He finally looked at her.

  “What?”

  “I thought—they weren’t Algerian?”

  God, she wished the answer was that simple. If they were dealing with retaliation for rescuing their last client, she’d know what to do. But if these men were Lebanese, their problems were a whole lot bigger.

  “I don’t think so.” She picked up one of the stolen cell phones. She’d powered them off earlier, but now, she wanted answers.

  “Wait.” Grant covered her hand.

  Despite the heat, she welcomed the feel of him. If it weren’t for him being there, acting as fast as he did, they could both be dead.

  “Is that a good idea?” he asked.

  “We can’t get the team. We haven’t been able to reach home. We need to know what we’re dealing with.” It sounded rational, but they both knew turning on the phones—hell, having their own phones—was a risk.

  Grant grimaced and grabbed the sandwiches, tucking them into his bag.

  “If we do this, we have to dump and run,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “We should head for that big hotel, the one with the pink balconies?”

  Melody nodded. She’d hate being there, but staying at one of the most popular hotels on the island would also provide them with good cover. Anyone carrying a gun couldn’t get close to them without being utterly obvious. It was hard to hide a gun in swim trunks or a bikini.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Grant double fisted two phones while Melody focused on one. The moment the screen powered up it asked for a code.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  “Got this one.” Grant dropped the phone in his right hand and focused on the one in his left.

  He laid it down and Melody bent over it as he tapped the screen. He randomly activated an app.

  The photo gallery.

  Four rows down was an unmistakable image of a young man wearing a uniform with a Lebanese flag stitched to his shoulder.

  It all made sense now. Horrible, terrible sense.

  This was about Ethan.

  “We have to go,” Grant said in a hard voice.

  Melody stood, sweeping all non-electronics into her bag before grabbing the phones. Grant tucked their water away and they picked their way out of the busy café through a back entrance.

  She pried the back off a phone, dropping the case, then the battery before attacking the SIM card. Grant did the same. They systematically tore apart and destroyed the phones as they walked, leaving crucial elements in abandoned drinks, tossing them in gutters or down storm drains. And that was just the beginning.

  Grant tossed his smart watch.

  Melody dug her back-up tablet out of her bag and dropped it, screen down, on the stones.

  The sun beat down on them. Sweat soaked her back. Her skin crawled as if a hundred pairs of eyes were focused on her.

  She knew they weren’t. Training told her that. But when Grant reached for her, she let him take her hand. Because holding onto him felt comforting. So long as he was with her, she knew they’d get through this.

  The lobby of the Hard Rock Hotel was busy with people heading out to the pool to enjoy whatever pulsing music was being pumped through the speakers. Grant checked them in using cash and a pair of false IDs. It wasn’t documented procedure, but most Team Leaders traveled with an alternate ID in case of emergencies like this. Only Zain would know the names to look for.

  It took her complete control to not mad dash for the elevator. The few minutes it took to get up to their floor was painful. By the time they reached their room she was eyeing the housekeeping staff and wondering if they were in on the deal as well.

  Their room was small. A queen bed, a bathroom, balcony, TV and a table with two chairs. She reminded herself that people didn’t come to stay at the Hard Rock for the rooms. They came for the party, and she was here to hide in plain sight.

  Melody sat on the bed and reached for the remote, curious if the attack had made the local news.

  “I’m going to try Zain again,” Grant said.

  The news flipped on, but the cameras weren’t showing their safe house. They were instead focused on a section of familiar road with yellow police tape.

  “Grant?” She turned the volume up.

  The news reporter spoke with an English accent. “Ten are badly injured and two dead in a shoot-out on the island of Ibiza this morning.”

  “That’s...” She pointed, the words failing her.

  The phone clattered back into the cradle and Grant came to stand next to her as they watched the news reporter struggle to spin a story about partying getting out of hand.

  “That’s less than half a mile from the house. The guys would have taken that path to get to the beach.” She sucked down a breath as the pieces clinked together.

  “This was all a set-up.” Grant sank down to sit on the bed next to her. “This is about...”

  Melody nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her.

  It all led back to the man they’d rescued a few months back.

  Ethan Turner had been abducted by the Lebanese government years ago. He’d been presumed dead due to a bombing and both his family and Aegis Group told his body was cremated according to custom. Zain had said something about getting a bag of ashes.

  Who or what had the Lebanese sent to Ethan’s widow?

  The Lebanese had done things to him. When the Lepta Team found him, he clearly didn’t know who he was. Hell, he’d almost killed Melody. It was only dumb luck that Vaughn and Brenden had managed to get the best of Ethan, truss him up and take him home unwillingly. Now, the Lebanese government was after them. Because they wanted Ethan back? They wanted to shut the team up? Why?

  “We can’t call anyone,” Grant said.

  “What about the others?” she whispered.

  “They know the drill.” His voice wobbled saying that.

  After Lebanon, they’d instituted measures in case of dire emergencies. No one had thought they’d be using them, but here they were, stuck on an island, cut off from their team, no resources, totally on their own and blind. This was planned, organized and patient. Melody knew that whoever was behind this wasn’t done with them yet.

  Grant reached over and took the remote. He powered the TV off, leaving them in silence, listening to the beach music for several moments.

  “Our guys are still alive,” he said softly.

  “How sure as you?”

  “Because I know my team.” He turned to face her. “You guys are the best. My money is on you, not them.”

  Damn him.

  Melody drew in a deep breath. She was rarely in danger herself. Her role was behind the scenes, this wasn’t her part to play, and yet here she was. Freaking out wasn’t going to help find their people. It was time to dig deep and remind herself that she used to be a cop. A damn good one, and she knew what it was like to perform under fire.

  3.

  Wednesday. Hard Rock Hotel, Ibiza Town, Ibiza.

  The day stretched on; the hours seeming to last days as the party raged outside. The news hadn’t told them anything new since the first newscast except the names of the victims were bystanders who’d gotten caught in the crossfire. Wherever his team was, Grant had to believe that they’d gotten away and they’d all connect in the morning.

  It was going to be a long damn night.

  Grant glanced at Melody sitting at the table bent over a book of some sort she’d found in a drawer. They hadn’t spoken much, not since she’d recovered from the initial shock of it all.

  Melody’s strength, her resilience, was something Grant admired about her. She was cool under pressure. He hated that it had taken him almost a year to realize how valuable she was not only to the team, but him. He’d been an ass in those early months, but he’d said his apologies. He’d believed they were past that.

  So where had they gone wrong?

  He studi
ed the back of her head, how she’d pulled her silky, long hair into some sort of twist held in place with a pencil. The first time he’d touched her hair he’d been fascinated by how soft it was. The other memories from that night were just as sweet.

  And she wanted to walk away from that?

  Grant swung his legs off the bed and stood.

  He’d followed Melody’s lead from the beginning, allowing her to set the pace, how often they saw each other, what she wanted to tell him. He didn’t push, because deep down he’d known she was ready to erect the barrier she’d kept between him before they’d fallen for each other.

  This wasn’t an ideal time to have relationship issues. Their problems were serious enough as it were. But he’d also never have another opportunity to talk to her where she couldn’t leave. They were stuck with each other, and he was enough of a bastard to force the issue.

  Grant circled the bed and crossed to the table.

  “We need to talk,” he said

  Melody turned the page of her book and didn’t acknowledge him.

  He pulled out the other chair and sat facing her, his knees bumping hers under the little table. She didn’t yield space to him. Melody had never challenged him, but he knew she wouldn’t give up what she had. Like leg room under a table or the arm rest on a plane.

  Grant intended to use that against her.

  “Button?”

  Her chin came up and she regarded him coolly. “Don’t call me that anymore.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Why not?”

  “Because this, us, it’s not working out. That’s it.” She tilted the book up. “We should focus on more serious matters. We have a few.”

  “They aren’t going anywhere and neither are we.” He used a finger and flattened the book to the table. “Give me one reason. One valid reason why, and I’ll back off.”

  “I don’t want to be with you anymore,” she said slowly, never breaking eye contact.

  “That’s not a reason.”

  “It’s not a reason you like.” She shut the book with a thwap. “That doesn’t make it invalid, Grant.”

  He grit his teeth. There was no logic behind her so-called reason. It was a thinly veiled excuse she was lobbing at him to avoid the topic. What made her change? What had he done?

  She was giving him classic Melody, showing him a perfectly serene face, no emotion. He knew her well enough now. Inside, behind all this, she wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to believe. He couldn’t accept that the woman he’d made love to a week ago was rejecting him now.

  She couldn’t just turn her emotions off. The body didn’t work that way. Whatever he’d done to piss her off couldn’t have rewired her in such a short time.

  None of this made sense.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said.

  “Fine. Okay.”

  Melody’s gaze narrowed.

  She was right to be suspicious.

  He leaned back and smiled at her. “I’ll stop asking you to explain why we’re breaking up if you kiss me one last time.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  He was playing with fire and fighting dirty. Yeah, he knew it, but damn it, he didn’t know where this was coming from.

  “You do know you sound like a manipulative asshole? I could go to Zain—”

  “And what? Tell him about the time you used company issue handcuffs while I was—”

  “Stop,” she snapped.

  Her chest rose and fell faster. She was worked up a little. Good.

  So was he.

  “One kiss. Show me you don’t have feelings for me.”

  The cold stare she leveled at him had his insides twisting in dread. What if something really had changed? What if he’d thought there was something else, but it was only an act?

  Shit.

  Melody flipped the book shut. “Fine, but then you leave this alone.”

  “Okay.” He knew that agreement was a lie, but right now he’d say and do just about anything to get past this silence.

  She stood and smoothed her hands down the gray sweat pants as if she were wearing one of those pencil skirts she favored. He loved those, how they showed off her ass, her calves. The sweatpants were better only because they were easy to get out of and he’d bought them for her. Maybe she’d forgotten that detail, but he hadn’t.

  He turned to the side as she came around the table to stand between his knees. Melody was petite, short, cute as a damn button when she forgot to be this polished version of herself.

  She looked down at him and licked her lips. He fought the urge to groan and reach for her. This wasn’t like normal. If this wasn’t the most perfect kiss in the world, she was leaving him and he’d have to honor his promise, even if he didn’t want to.

  “None of that quick peck business either,” he added.

  One corner of her mouth twisted up. Her mask was slipping.

  He lived for these moments, when she forgot to shield this delicate person she hid from the world. It was the her he wished she’d share with him, that he thought he was getting to know.

  “One kiss.” She planted her hand on his shoulder.

  “That’s what we agreed on.”

  Melody bent at the waist.

  He reached up and cupped her face, falling into the spell of her dark eyes. Her breath warmed his cheek and her hands settled on his shoulders. His dick hardened just looking at her, knowing with a certainty he couldn’t trust that she wanted him, too. That it couldn’t just be over so easy.

  Her lips touched his, soft at first. He reached up and cupped the back of her head, opening his mouth to tease hers. Melody’s body was tense and he could feel her holding back.

  That wouldn’t do.

  He curled his fingers in her hair, tugging just a little. Her muscles tightened further and he could feel her holding back a groan. He nipped her lower lip, focusing all of his desire on this one point of contact.

  Melody’s hair fell down her back, the pencil not strong enough. He wrapped a lock around his left index finger and tugged her forward.

  A sweet moan filled the air and her fingers bit into his shoulder.

  Yes.

  He leaned away, just a tiny bit, and she followed. Her mouth moved against his, her kiss eager and hungry.

  Grant wanted to grab her, haul her on the table, but he didn’t. All he’d asked for was a kiss, a tiny bit of proof she wasn’t truly done with him. He wouldn’t ask for more, but he also wasn’t going to stop kissing her.

  Melody gripped both shoulders now. She straddled one thigh, then the next until she sat on his lap. This was his favorite position. It mitigated their difference in height, allowing him to kiss and touch all of her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up against his chest and kissed her deeply, putting everything he felt into it.

  She was his person. The one who saw him at his best and worst. He trusted her when he didn’t trust himself. He knew they were good together.

  Grant released her hair with his left hand and trailed his fingers down her back to the hem of her shirt. He slid his fingers underneath, teasing the skin just north of the waistband of her sweatpants.

  It would be so easy to slid his hand into her pants, then her panties. He could cup her, touch her like this, drive her to orgasm on his fingers. But he wouldn’t.

  This was just a kiss. A litmus test. Nothing more.

  His dick twitched in protest.

  Her hips shifted, grinding their sexes together. He groaned his appreciation but forced his hand to still against her skin.

  This was just a kiss.

  Melody pulled back just enough for their lips to break contact. She was breathing heavily. This close he could see just how dilated her eyes were.

  She wanted him. He knew it. He was right.

  This was the proof he needed. One way or another, he was going to win her back. So long as she wanted him, there was hope.

  Mel
ody fisted his shirt, dragging it up his chest.

  He held his arms up and let her strip the T-shirt off him. Her gaze left his face, she looked down at him, running her fingertips along the tattoo just under his collar bone. Out of their whole team, she was the only one who’d seen it. They were words he didn’t share with anyone but her.

  She flattened her hands on his chest, smoothing them down to his ribs while her hips did this little figure eight thing that made his vision haze and words impossible.

  Grant pulled her to him, crushing his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangled, a sense of urgency descending upon them.

  Her spine bowed as she created room between them, her nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on her shirt. He’d long since learned to leave things like buttons to her.

  The blouse went sailing off onto the floor.

  He wrapped his arms around her, smoothing his palms down her back even while her tongue fucked him. She grasped the short strands of his hair, using that to guide his head. He kissed down her neck to her chest.

  She’d let him take care of her after her breast augmentation surgery was fixed. He hadn’t known until then that her breasts weren’t natural, not that he cared either way. She’d trusted him to care for her. That was what mattered. All he needed to do was get them back to there.

  Grant wrapped his lips around one nipple and sucked. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He switched breasts, using every trick from the tongue flick to a slight press of teeth. All the things she liked.

  His only goal was to drive her crazy. Maybe then she’d realize how good they could be. How right they were together.

  Melody’s hand gripped the end of his belt. His already hard dick leaped to attention.

  She undid his belt and pants enough to free his erection. Her little hands wrapped around him, pumping his cock while he continued to kiss her body, bestowing his attention on every inch of skin he could reach.

  “Condom?” she said.

  He lifted his hips and let go of her long enough to slap his wallet on the table.

  Melody pulled away from him then, rising to her feet only to shove her sweats and panties to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked. The early evening sun and strobing lights bathed her in color.