Blindsided (Sentinel Securities) (21 page)

“Hey! Look at this.” Stone’s voice reached him as he approached the elevator door and he paused. “Where the hell did all this food come from? Check it out—cakes, biscuits—there’s even a quiche! Man, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

Holy crap. She’d baked.
He was so screwed.

****

He walked into the apartment cautiously, so cautious that anyone would think his place had been booby-trapped or something. The kitchen was spotless—but the whole place had a homey smell—the kinda smell that he imagined belonged to a house with lots of baking and kids laughing. He headed down the hallway and stood outside the spare room door. Taking a deep breath he turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly to find the room…empty.

What the hell?

Holy crap. She’d left him.

He knew he should have kept his big mouth shut—damn it, now he’d scared her off.
Good work Nash!
Retracing his steps he headed back down the hall and went to the glass wall overlooking the bright lights of the city in the distance.

He should follow her. He moved to grab his keys from the hook by the bench but then stopped. If she’d run—then she probably wouldn’t be thrilled to find him turn up on her doorstep right now. He’d give it a few days for all this to settle down and then he’d try and salvage whatever he could and try and reassure her that he’d be happy with whatever she wanted it to be.
Coward,
a voice taunted him from inside.
Well what am I supposed to do? She ran like a bloody scared rabbit at the first chance she got. Not the actions of a woman thrilled to bits with the news some guy was in love with her.
He couldn’t believe it had come to this—he was having an argument with
himself...again!  

He dragged himself down the hallway and into his bedroom. A shower—a long hot one, was what he needed now and then he’d plan out his next plan of attack, but as he strode into the room he came to an abrupt halt and stared at the lump in the centre of his bed, before a torrent of relief raced through him and a smile slowly spread across his lips.

****

Brie opened her eyes with a start when she felt the bed dip slightly, only relaxing when she found the cause of it. “You’re back,” she croaked, blinking to clear the sleepy haze from her eyes. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She’d done all she could to stay up, cleaning away her baking mess and delivering the overabundance downstairs where she knew they’d find a good home as soon as the men got back, but eventually she couldn’t stop yawning and she’d succumbed to bed.

She was nervous about taking the incentive and climbing into his bed instead of the spare room one. She hoped it would let him know that she’d managed to work through a lot of her fears about their relationship. Judging by the look on his face now, she guessed that he’d ‘got that’ and was relieved. She’d half feared he’d come back and tell her it’d just been adrenaline speaking and he’d thought it over and decided it was a big mistake.

“I thought you’d left me,” he said quietly.

“I thought about it,” she shrugged and saw concern cloud his eyes a little. “But then I realised you’d probably just do something stupid like throw yourself under my car again to get my attention, so I figured I’d save us both the trouble and just move rooms.”

“You baked enough to feed a small army,” he said doubtfully, still obviously unsure if she was going to run screaming from the apartment any second.

“Lucky I know a small army to take care of it all. My hips will forever more be thankful that I won’t have to eat it all myself.”

“You know, I kinda planned that I’d stop you having to worry about stuff. You won’t have to bake away your worries anymore.”

“Are you serious? Dealing with you guys will probably make me consider opening a damn bakery.”

“Not that I’d complain about that if you wanted to, but I mean it, Brie. I want to take care of you and Lucy from now on—I don’t want you to ever have to worry about stuff alone again.”

“You rescued me once—okay more than once, but I don’t want you to feel as though you’re somehow responsible for me. I won’t be in a relationship like that Jason. I’ve made my own way through life before I met you—I don’t need a knight on a white horse.”

“I know how strong you are. I don’t think I could have raised a kid alone, as well as worked and been a parent. You’re pretty damn amazing.” He shook his head slowly in amazement. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around…I think you saved me.”

“Then how about we just go with partners?”

“I can live with that.”

“Put it there, partner,” she smiled up at him.

“I got a better way of sealin’ the deal,” he said ignoring her outstretched hand and gently pushing her back against the pillows, shrugged out of his clothes as he went.

Jason’s announcement the next morning met with a variety of responses. Gracie seemed the least surprised and didn’t care as long as she kept him supplied with Anzac biscuits. Nick and Casper took it in their stride and congratulated them easily. It still amused her that these men were so easy to adapt to changes. Nothing ever seemed to faze them. Mac, however, was a whole other story.

Brie had watched his face when Jason had told them that she would be moving in until they sorted out where they wanted to buy a house, sometime down the track. Although he gave nothing away in his expression or body language, Brie caught the briefest glimpse of such gut-wrenching longing that she caught her breath slightly and then just as fast—it was gone, hardening back into that dark eyed glare she’d only ever seen before.

It wasn’t hard to understand—not now that she knew what had happened in his past, but she ached to see him so absolutely gutted that he refused to embrace life. How lonely and miserable his life must be when he blocked out everyone and everything except his men and his business. He glanced up and caught her watching him and immediately that emptiness was replaced with sarcastic scrutiny and she quickly dropped his gaze, steeling herself against it.

He was still hurting too much. It was too raw to try and offer to help, but having caught that moment of genuine emotion that he’d let slip ever so briefly, she knew in her heart all was not lost. This man could be saved—and somehow, someway, she’d find a way to reach him.

Later that morning as Jason drove along the freeway, heading out of the city to go and pick up Lucy and Gladys, Brie looked across at him and smiled.

“What?” he asked with a lazy smile.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” she bit back her grin as she saw the wary expression slip into place across his strong face and darted her a nervous glance. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“I love you
,
too.”

She saw his shoulders relax as soon as she spoke and he dropped a hand from the steering wheel to take hold of hers, holding it securely against his thigh as they drove towards the golden sunset glimmering in the distance to get started on the next chapter of their life.

Read an excerpt from Operation Summer Storm.
#
1 of the Operation Series.

‘No Bars Hold’ Bar
             

Kuta, Bali

The derelict bar was dark and gloomy, the music too loud. The heavy smell of cigarette smoke clung to the air in thick clouds, and trauma nurse Summer Sheldon wondered if by simply walking in she hadn’t just destroyed a healthy portion of her lungs. Thinking back, it should have become obvious what kind of place this was going to be, when the taxi driver sent a dubious glance in the rear-view mirror before double-checking she had the right place.

Her gaze fell on the bar across the room where a man sat watching her from behind a tall bottle of beer. Careful not to take too deep a breath, Summer made her way toward him. Dressed casually in cargo shorts and a button up shirt, his short hair was still wet, as if from a recent shower, and in his hand, he loosely cradled the beer. He sat with one leg hitched casually on the bottom rail of the bar.

Swallowing nervously, she dragged her eyes back to a respectable level and cleared her throat.  “Are you waiting to meet me?”

One dark eyebrow lifted slowly as a sarcastic smile spread across his mouth. “It sure beats ‘what’s a nice guy like you doin’ in a dive like this,’” he drawled.

Summer felt her face flame and took a step away. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to meet someone here, and I just assumed…” Her voice petered out pitifully at the steady look he continued to pin her with.

“You know what they say about assume...”

Something in the steel beneath his tone caught her attention, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Eugene Wilson?”

“Depends.” He took a long draw from his beer, and his chocolate-coloured eyes bore into hers steadily.

“On what?” she asked.

“On why you want to find him.”

Summer bit the inside of her cheek. Something about this man gave her the impression he was alert, and ready to spring into action if the situation called for it. He didn’t look like the tourist his casual clothing seemed to portray.

“A business transaction,” she finally said, deciding to brave climbing on to one of the high barstools next to him.

He eyed her with a glint of amusement before answering. “What kind of business?”

“The specialised kind.”

He seemed to consider her silently.

“So, what now? You refer me on to, yet another associate, and I go back to my cockroach-ridden room to swelter until I receive another phone call? Or can we finally do away with all this cloak and dagger stuff and just get down to business?”

“What makes you so sure I’m the guy you’re supposed to meet?” His tone seemed more curious than alarmed.

She was getting tired; it had been a long road to reach this point. She’d flown all the way to Bali to meet someone face-to-face, and ever since she’d arrived she’d been given the run around. If this man didn’t help her, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.

“Because that guy over there—” she pointed to their left, “—can hardly lift his glass, let alone a rifle, and the guy back there—” she hitched her head in the direction of the door she’d just walked through “—is as likely to have ever served in any Special Forces unit as I have.”

“You’re observant,” he stated in a hard-nosed tone. “But what I really want to know is how you got hold of our number?” All of a sudden, his tone turned dangerous, and Summer felt fear trace a path down her back.

“I was left this number to use in case of an emergency. This is an emergency.”

“Why should I risk my life—and the lives of my men—to rescue a group of hostages?” he continued, further proving that he knew of her request.

“Because I know you and your men are wanted for stealing missiles from a military munitions armoury.” She saw him stiffen. “I also know,” she added smoothly, “that your real name is Tate Maddox.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Who the hell sent you?”

Summer stifled the urge to run. She bit her lip to still the threat of frightened tears pricking behind her eyelids. “No one sent me. I tracked you down.”

His expression did not soften.  If anything, it became even more menacing. “And just how do you know all this?”

“My brother in-law was investigative reporter, Michael Vosta. He was murdered on his way to a place named Los Caverna—to see you. Now my sister is missing.”

A moment of stunned silence followed her announcement.

“What does your sister going missing have to do with anything?”

“Nothing…and everything…depending how you want to look at it.” Summer realised she was about to unleash a whole lot of unpleasantness in the next few moments and had to take a breath to fortify herself.

“Willow was taken hostage in Cambodia, almost a fortnight ago. I can’t get anyone to do anything because of all the red tape, and a whole bunch of international pussy footing around.” She took a breath to keep her emotions in check. “I need someone with your experience to break her out.”

“It seems like a job for the State Department.”

Summer swallowed back her disappointment. “The Government can’t even find them. They’re still waiting for confirmation and a ransom demand,” she bit out tightly.

“That’s pretty standard in a situation like this.”

“Maybe in a normal kidnapping,” she agreed quietly, “but I don’t think this kidnapping was random. I believe my sister was taken for a different reason.”

“Go on,” he said, and she saw a flicker of curiosity stir behind his hooded gaze.

“Michael’s murder had something to do with the story he was doing on Samuel Tre`ago.” She saw his jaw clench, at the mention of Tre`ago’s name, and could swear she heard something crack. “I think my sister was taken because Tre`ago, knew Michael had files in his possession…files that can prove that Tre`ago was behind the missile heist—the same one he left you, and those other men, to take the fall for.”

His face seemed to lose its colour, and he went unnaturally still. “I need to know everything…right now,” he commanded, leaning closer, and invading her personal space, in a calculated move to intimidate.