Always Been Mine (33 page)

“After all the craziness of the past few months, it’s nothing.”

“Zach Jamison is dead. I killed him,” Gabe stated flatly. “He was tied to a chair and I slit his throat.”

Beatrice closed her eyes, and for a brief moment, Gabe was afraid of what he would see in them.

When she opened them, they were hard. “What prompted you to kill him right then?”

“He threatened you. I couldn’t turn him over to anyone else knowing he’d send someone after you again.”

Beatrice didn’t say a word, just nodded.
 

“I can’t change who I am, babe. I’ll always be ruthless when it comes to you,” Gabe added. “I would kill for you, no hesitation. Anyone who threatens your life is dead.”

“I wasn’t saying anything, because the first thing I felt was relief.” She released a weary breath. “I’m also feeling guilty because right after they cut me, I wanted to tell you to hunt down whoever did this to me and kill them all. It frightened me, the violence and anger consuming me, though eventually they faded. It doesn’t mean I’m not glad he’s dead. If that makes me an evil person, so be it.” Her eyes searched his. “If that makes us two of a kind, so be it. There are no rainbows and unicorns in our world, Gabe, especially yours. You’ve seen too much of its evil that in order to fight evil you had to become like it. I fully accept that part of you.”

“I know how lucky I am; I don’t deserve you.” He held her gaze. “You’re brave, smart, incredibly beautiful—”

“Don’t forget, I give good head,” Beatrice said in a hushed whisper.

Gabe choked on his chuckle, caught unaware by his woman’s sass even after she nearly got blown up. She never ceased to amaze him.

“That you do.” He tipped her chin up to look at him. “You know I’m never letting you go, right?”

“If that’s your version of a proposal, Gabriel, that sucks.”

He could see her sudden nervousness through her sass. He knew they would have to compromise between her aversion to being tied down and his consuming desire to make her irrevocably his. He needed to show her that he had a life outside of her, but she needed to accept that she was the center of his world. “It’s not. When I finally ask to you to be my wife—take note, that’s when and not if—you will know.”

“Is that so?” Beatrice’s brow arched, but her lips were tipped in a genuine smile.

This was promising, so he added, “Yup. You might as well start picking paint colors and furniture for the house.” He remembered how Beatrice was so animated discussing home decorating shit with Caitlin. He wanted that enthusiasm channeled for them.
 

“Wait
 
. . . Uh, what house?”

“Mine. I’m not living in your fucking condo. I doubt Rhino would like it, and I’m not doing this ‘your place or mine’ bullshit.”

“I need time—”

“You’re moving in right after you get checked out by Dr. Ryan. We’re packing your shit. It’s moving next to mine, and you’re sleeping in my fucking bed. I’m not sleeping under a damned canopied one.”

“Whoa there, buster.” Beatrice looked more dazed than earlier and Gabe felt guilty. “No ragging on my beautiful bed. But I agree, you’d look silly under all those frills.” Her green eyes were luminous. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you? Officially?”

“Yes. We got sidetracked with that discussion because of your silly concerns about my job choices,” Gabe said. “I agree, I wouldn’t be your most effective bodyguard long-term, but I’ve been offered a job as an instructor at the Farm before. I’m sure they’d have no problem accepting my application.”

The Farm was the CIA’s training facility.

Beatrice looked at her hands. When she lifted her eyes, her brows furrowed as she stared past him. “Uh, we probably shouldn’t be having this conversation in a room full of nosy people.”

Gabe paused, realizing that for a few seconds there the chatter around them had died. He turned his head to the side. Sure enough, everyone from Porter, Viktor, Maia, Nate, Travis and a host of other people were listening in on their conversation. When had badass security guys become such gossips?

“Seriously, baby, put the man out of his misery,” the admiral said dryly.

*****

“You got all the images, Tim?” Caitlin transmitted all the photos from the scene outside. She didn’t particularly care to see pictures of mangled, dead bodies, but someone had to get it done.

“Yup. The team who guarded the meet at Culpeper was mostly South African mercenaries. These are checking out to be Russian,” Tim replied. “Different security companies.”

“Well, I guess that’s it for tonight—or morning,” Caitlin yawned. It was close to 2:00 a.m.

“You did very well tonight, Caitlin,” the data analyst said. “I had the satellite images up on your location; it was quite a fire fight, but you remained cool as ice.”

“I trusted the people around me,” she replied. “And I knew Travis was on his way.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for,” Tim said softly.

“I’ve accepted it for a while,” Caitlin replied truthfully. “Catching a break with Redrook and knowing he held the key to my past did raise my hopes, but I can’t regret not remembering my past, because I welcome my life with Travis so much more. I feel it deep in my gut, you know, that I’ve never been this happy and fulfilled before.” She put a hand on her baby bump.

Tim simply smiled at her and Caitlin got self-conscious.

“Oh, Lord, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’m so sorry. I just met you,” Caitlin stuttered in mortification.

“Are you sure?”

Caitlin stared at Tim, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll see you around, Star Pixie.” Tim smiled wider, winked, and cut the feed.

Caitlin was left staring at the screen, her mouth open in an O. Star Pixie was her alias on the Black Plane.

“Saber Boy?” she whispered.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Two weeks later

Gabe glanced impatiently at his watch, the third time he had done so in the past half hour. She was probably stuck in DC traffic again. The past two weeks had been a difficult time for him, letting her go about her day without him. It felt similar to coming back from a series of missions where one had become hyper-vigilant. He was slowly decompressing and his senses were coming to terms that Beatrice was going to be okay without his hovering.

He resisted the urge to track her on his phone. That would make him no better than a stalker; although, he didn’t give a fuck if he became
her
stalker. Gabe needed to get his act together. He had invested his money wisely. The house was paid for, and even if he could keep Beatrice living in the style she was used to, he needed to keep his mind and body occupied. Otherwise, he would go insane with boredom. Gabe stared at his emails on his laptop. He escorted Beatrice to a high-profile gala the night before and met with several politicians and officials from alphabet agencies and security companies all eager to engage his services. This morning, he switched on his laptop to a barrage of emails including one from the Director of CIA black ops who Gabe had worked with on several SEAL missions. The director had approached him years ago, right before he left the Navy SEALs, about training new recruits. Gabe was tempted to call him back. But was being an instructor what he really wanted to do?

Rhino walked toward the door and snuffled at the corner. As if on cue, the doorknob turned and Beatrice walked in. After petting Rhino on the head, his woman headed straight for him.

“Hmm . . . missed you,” Beatrice breathed into his lips. He kissed her, engulfing her in his arms, lifting her slightly, one hand digging into the meat of her ass, while pressing her tightly against him.
 

“Hey,” he whispered after he had kissed her thoroughly. “Why so late, babe?”

“Nate,” Beatrice groused. “He had reversed roles with Travis in the slave driver department. But don’t worry, I’ve informed him I have a man now waiting for me at home. I’m not as cutthroat as I used to be.”

Gabe chuckled. “Not sure I like playing the ‘man waiting at home’ bit.”

“Oh, knock it off. You know your sabbatical isn’t lasting long. I can tell you’re getting bored out of your mind despite the house projects. I received calls from a couple of security firms today, asking if you’re looking for a job. You made quite an impression last night. I told them if you’re interested, you’d call.”

“You can be my agent,” Gabe teased, helping her remove her coat and hanging it in the closet.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I’m a consultant, not a head hunter.”

“I’m considering the CIA post as an instructor,” Gabe said, walking into the kitchen to check on the roast. “I may have to be onsite for several days, but I’m sure I can work out a schedule that would work for both of us.”

Beatrice’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Gabe? I know you’re limiting your options because of me, but this past month”—she exhaled a shaky breath—“I’ve come to trust that you’re going to do what’s right for us. I want you to be happy and fulfilled in your job, Gabe.”

Her words meant a lot to him, and in a way, he was choosing the CIA instructor position because it was the least likely to keep him away for weeks and make her worry about him. But he wasn’t thrilled about the prospect.

“Why don’t you change out of those clothes before I end up attacking you. I’ve set the roast to keep warm while you freshen up,” Gabe said, deflecting her question, but there was some truth that he was tempted to have her as an appetizer, knowing she wore those sexy garters underneath that skirt. “We can talk about it after dinner. Deal?”

“Good idea,” Beatrice laughed. “We can’t have a repeat of this morning.”

Gabe grinned salaciously. “That was a delicious way to wake up.” Beatrice had gotten up early this morning for an 8:00 a.m. meeting. Gabe woke up to her bent over the desk in their bedroom, typing an email on the laptop. She had been wearing garters, stockings, and a bra. What did she expect when she presented him with her delectable ass? Hazed by sleep and a surge of lust, he snuck in behind her on his knees and buried his face into her pussy. He nudged her panties aside, and ate her, licking her into a quick orgasm.
 

“I had to change my panties,” Beatrice chided as she made her way up the steps. “You almost made me late.”

“We have rules about bringing work into the bedroom,” Gabe said. “I just meted out some punishment.”

“You know that’s a poor form of punishment, right?”
 

“Go change, babe, before I spank that ass.”

“Still not a punishment, Gabe,” Beatrice called out playfully as her voice faded up the stairway.

He shook his head, grinning. She made him incredibly hard with that smart mouth on her and he looked forward to more.

Rhino suddenly got up and growled at the door. His dog tilted his head to look at him warily. Gabe stiffened, going on alert. He listened for Beatrice’s movements upstairs and heard the shower turn on.

“Rhino, guard,” Gabe ordered. His dog snuffled in agreement and stood by the stairway. Gabe grabbed his gun, checked the magazine, and slotted a round in the chamber.

He approached the door and took a peek through the window. There was a man leaning nonchalantly at the top of the stoop. It wasn’t Porter, but the guy’s silhouette looked oddly familiar. It didn’t take long for Gabe to figure who it was.

He turned on the front lights and opened the door.

Viktor Baran.

“Why are you here?” Gabe asked tersely, but his mind was racing with the possibility that something else had come up and the danger was not over.

“That’s a hostile way to acknowledge a friend,” Viktor replied with amusement.

“I would hardly call you a friend, Baran.”

Viktor’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m a busy man, Sullivan. Do you want to step outside, so I can tell you why I’m here? Beatrice is upstairs and—”

“Don’t,” Gabe snarled, flicking the lights off and plunging them into darkness save for the light from the street lamp. “I fucking swear, if you were spying on my woman—”

“Calm down,” Viktor chuckled. “I don’t want my own woman to hand me my balls, so you can be sure I have no perverted designs on Beatrice.”

Gabe was baffled for a moment that there was a woman on the planet who could hand Viktor Baran his balls. And having the AGS boss admit to such a thing was disconcerting.
 

“Finding it hard to believe, Sullivan?” Viktor wagged his left hand, and sure enough there was a gold band.

Well, I’ll be damned
.

“So why are you here?” Gabe asked.

“I’m in need of a tactical analyst.”

“You’re offering me a job?” Gabe asked incredulously.
 

Viktor shrugged. “I’ve seen what you can do.”

“Wait a minute, was that fight some kind of test?”
 

“You could say that.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” Gabe growled. “Why would I want to work with someone as insane as you?”

“Because whether you deny it or not, Sullivan, you see yourself in me.”

Eyes that had seen too much death.
 

“You’ll have to find someone else.”

“Do you honestly think you’ll be happy as a CIA field instructor?”

“What?—”

“I have eyes and ears everywhere,” Viktor said. “I have access to classified databases. You want to protect your woman and keep her safe? Information has the power to protect her. I can give that to you.”

“I’m still not your guy. I’m not going on covert missions abroad or going undercover, and leaving Beatrice for weeks on end. I’m not doing that shit again.”

Viktor huffed irritably. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I need a tactical analyst. You remain at the data center, analyze the intel with Tim, and you plan TAC team strategy. You don’t have to go on the field unless it’s in DC or anywhere close by and they’re usually short duration strike operations. With increased terrorist threats, I need help running ops from the data center.”

“Why? I heard you practically live and breathe AGS.”

“Why? Because I’m fucking married. I love my wife, Gabe, and priorities change. She comes first, and if it means I have to give up some control of running AGS to spend more time with her, I’m willing to do it.”