Fatal Courage: Shadow Force International, Book 3 (Shadow Force International Romantic Suspense Series) (27 page)

And yet this had to be a jest, a prank. Beatrice was punking him.

Hard.

Her unwavering gaze said differently. “Rory got a match from TracRec.”

Ruby had the same half incredulous, half irate look on her face, as if she wanted to shake some sense into Jax’s boss. “Rory is wrong. It must be someone else.”

A crease laced across Beatrice’s forehead. “While Rory is, on occasion, incorrect, TracRec never acts erroneously. It labeled a man outside the club after the mass evacuation as Abdel Al-Safari. The footage came from a compilation of cell phone videos Rory was scanning. Rory checked the club’s video footage and caught what he believes to be the man inside before the gunshots, but Al-Safari kept away from the cameras so he can’t confirm.”

“Maybe you’re not hearing me.” Jax pushed off from the wall that had been holding him up. His legs protested, the day from hell taking its toll on his body. “Abdel Al-Safari is dead, boss. I was there when it happened. Hell, I tried to resuscitate the guy. He—or Elliot—blew his brains out. Whoever TracRec picked up on, it’s not Al-Safari.”

Beatrice’s eyes hardened. “I’m inclined to disagree. The TracRec facial recognition software is the foremost technologically advanced system there is. If it registers that the man known worldwide as Abdel Al-Safari was in Chicago last night, then I have no doubt he was.”

Hunter, who’d been silent like usual, rubbed his thumb over his chin. “Which means the man in Marrakech whom you thought was Al-Safari,” he said to Jax, “was really someone else.”

Ruby moved so she was standing next to Jax, as if physically adding her support to him as well as to his argument. “I don’t believe that. Elliot and I were following Al-Safari and the Moroccan 5 for years before we caught up with them. I saw Al-Safari’s face on several occasions. The man we took into custody in Morocco was the same man in the Moroccan 5.”

“Who confirmed the man’s identity to begin with?” Hunter asked.

Ruby started to speak, halted. “Shit,” she whispered and looked at Jax. Disheartenment showed in her eyes.

“Who was it?” he asked her gently. “Elliot?”

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them and nodded curtly.

Shit was right. Elliot had mislead her in more ways than one.

But it didn’t confirm or repudiate the guy’s innocence.

Repudiate. What a fucking Beatrice-like word.

Jax rubbed his eyes. He needed food and sleep, and for this goatfuck of an assignment to be over. Except then, his time with Ruby might be over too.

Good thing he hadn’t eaten in a while because his empty-as-hell stomach revolted. “So who the hell was the guy in Morocco?” he ground out.

“Wait,” Ruby said, brightening. “Homeland confirmed Al-Safari’s identity after his death.”

When everyone—including Jax—gave her a
hello, think about it
stare, her countenance dimmed again. “Right. Duh. Elliot, and/or his handler at Homeland, fudged the confirmation, didn’t they? But why?”

“But why, is right.” Zeb was stuck on the reasons behind all the fallacies and illusions the Department of Homeland had orchestrated. “That’s what I’m saying. We need to know the why before we can nail the who.”

“Does Al-Safari have any known brothers?” Beatrice seemed to be on her own mental train of thought. “Any close male relatives?”

Ruby brightened again, apparently following the train. “You think the man at the club is Al-Safari’s brother? Like a twin?”

“Not at the club,” Beatrice said. “The man who died in Morocco. The man you were led to believe was Abdel Al-Safari. It’s possible the real Al-Safari had a look-alike and he sent that man to act in his place when it came to dealing with Elliot, knowing that at some point, Elliot might renege on their deal and take him back into custody or kill him.”

“A look-alike?” Jax asked. “You mean like the men Saddam Husain had who stood in for him in public?”

“It’s believed bin Laden had several as well,” Zeb added. “Many leaders have used them over the years to protect themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mohammed Izala has a few himself.”

Beatrice sent a glance at Hunter, then Zeb. “What are your thoughts?”

Hunter conceded the floor to Zeb with a nod. Zeb said, “Agent Hayden and Keon James were trading secrets to Al-Safari’s look-alike in an attempt to get proof of life or death on Commander Pierce. Abdel, himself, was probably completely out of it. If Pierce was indeed alive, the US was willing to trade some big ass secrets to get him back, so Homeland fed Agent Hayden, who in turn fed them to Keon James, in hopes of rescuing a man with far more military intelligence in his little finger than we can imagine. What they were feeding Izala was probably nothing in comparison, but Izala didn’t know that.”

“Or he did,” Jax said, “which is why they never got anywhere. Izala was getting military info from both Hayden and Pierce. Fucker.”

Ruby rubbed her temples and blew out a tight sigh. “My brain is cramping. I need a white board or something to write all of this down on so I can visually see the connections.”

The crease in Beatrice’s forehead eased. “That’s an excellent idea, Agent McKellen. I’m sure Dr. Oswalo has one of those around here somewhere. Trace, please go find it for us.”

As Trace left the room, she gave Jax a pointed look while speaking to Ruby. “I think my operative could use a shower and some coffee. Why don’t you two freshen up and see if any further ideas come to you. We’ll reconvene in an hour and write all of this out on the whiteboard.”

Jax started to argue, but Beatrice shut him down with a lift of her hand and a glare. “You’re dead on your feet, both of you, and I’ll admit, I’m tired as well. Let’s all take a break. You’re no good to me if you can’t think straight or function at full capacity should we encounter other hostile forces.”

She had a point. While he’d prefer another round of sex with Ruby to rev him up, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Ruby needed a power nap, and it wouldn’t hurt him to catch a few winks himself.

Besides, his boss had just admitted she was tired. He walked over, checked her pulse.

Steady, normal.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“I’m worried about you. How’s your lower back? Any cramping or contractions you’re keeping from us?”

She pulled her wrist away from his fingers, but a small smile curved her lips. “I’m fine, thank you. A nap would be nice, though.”

“A nap, right. Whatever you say, boss. We’ll be back in a few.” He grabbed Ruby by the hand and hauled her out of the room.

“What was that all about?” she said as they walked down a long hallway, Jax poking his head in a room.

“Power struggle. We have them all the time,” he said. “She’s just as tired as I am, but she believes she’s invincible. On the other hand, she’s right. I haven’t slept in nearly three days and I just helped perform major surgery on a guy. As a SEAL, I was trained to handle shit like this on an ongoing basis, but I must be getting soft. I’m beat, and Beatrice knows it.”

“Need I remind you, you survived a shooting at the club, a tornado, and a few rounds of sex with me at the B&B. The sex with me alone would be enough to make any man tired.”

Even though she was barely putting one foot in front of the other, she gave him a wicked wink. One that caused a surge of
hell, yeah
in his worn out system.

“Funny, that always seems to have the opposite effect,” he snickered, finding the entrance to a small locker room. “I can never get enough sex with you.”

He dragged her into the room, found the three-man shower stall and turned on the water under two of them. As it heated, he shucked his scrubs, enjoying the way Ruby’s eyes scanned his now naked body. Strutting forward and letting her see how ready he was for her, he reached for the hem of her scrub shirt and pulled her close.

Peeling the shirt up slowly, he locked his eyes on hers. She lifted her arms, allowing him to slip the fabric up over her breasts, his fingers taking advantage of her bare skin and brushing against her stomach, her ribs.

She shivered under his light touch, her gaze breaking contact with his only when the fabric slipped up over her arms. Even then, he could see her eyes through the thin cotton, watching, waiting, wanting more.

Jax continued his slow undressing, allowing the soft material to glide and tease the sensitive skin under her arms, her elbows, her wrists.

He bunched the shirt around her wrists, drawing the material together in one hand and binding her wrists above her. Backing her up against the flat side of the row of lockers, he enjoyed her gasp as her naked skin touched the cool metal. She arched, her breasts rising. Lowering his head, he licked one of the rose colored nipples, teasing it into a hard pucker. He took it between his teeth, gently nipping.

Steam rose in the room mixing with her whimpers. Another arch toward his eager mouth and he caught her breast more fully, sucking at her, drawing her whimper into a cry of pleasure.

With his other hand, he untied the drawstring of her pants, slipping his fingers inside. Oh, yeah. She was ready for him too, her folds slick with moisture. Kissing her deeply, he allowed his fingers to mimic his tongue, diving in, drawing back, diving in again.

She bucked her hips, driving her pelvis into his hand, more sounds coming from her throat, encouraging him. A few more skilled movements and she was close to climax, her body demanding he speed up his tempo and give her what she craved.

Like always, his own body demanded the same, a quick, hard coupling that would leave them both gasping for air. In the back of his mind, the niggling thought that this could be their last time made him slow down. When Hayden woke, they’d have their answers to the questions boggling all of them. They’d have a solution.

He’d done his job; captured the fugitive. Whatever the outcome—whether Elliot Hayden was guilty or innocent—the mission was over.

Which meant Ruby would most likely go back to the CIA, regardless of her renegade behavior. Her boss liked operatives who got the job done, and Ruby did that. She might get another reprimand and a few more months of probation, but she’d go back to being a spy because she loved the work and the Agency needed her. She’d throw on a wig and change her appearance and all would be well.

And that, right there, friends, would leave him in the dust of her wheels as she beelined out of his life once again.

So he slowed it down—his fingers, his tongue, his mind. Taking his time and soaking her up. Memorizing every sound she made, every brush of her body against his as she rocked her way toward an orgasm. He wanted to remember everything. The way she smelled, the way her eyelashes lay against her skin, the way her tongue danced with his.

“Please,” she murmured into his mouth. “Jax…
please
.”

Ah, yes. He loved to hear her beg. Loved the feeling of making her so crazy with need that she would lose her cocky, over-confident self long enough to plead—instead of demanding—that he get her off.

Under his breastbone, a new feeling broke open. Warmth spread inside his chest as if all his blood had suddenly turned to syrup, gliding over his battered heart, his always tight ribcage.

Fuckin’ A. He wanted that feeling to continue.

The only way for that to happen was to keep this woman in his life. Here, now, always.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, teasing her lips with tiny nips of his teeth. “Tell me, Ruby McKellen, what you really want from me.”

“Everything,” she whispered without hesitation. “I want it all.”

Another wave of release and joy spread through his system. Jerking the shirt off her wrists, he freed her, letting the fabric fall to the floor as he went to work on the pants. Once he had her fully naked, he lifted her from the floor, her legs going around his waist, as he carried her into the showers.

Chapter Nineteen

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R
UBY
D
REAMED
A
BOUT
Jax. Wind swirled around both of them and she was struggling to hear something he was saying—reading lips had never been her strong point and the damn wind was too loud, too strong. She cried out as it ripped him away from her—screaming his name as she flung her arms out to try to catch him, and…

The door to the hospital room banged open, wrenching her from the dream. She sat up before her eyes were fully open, realizing she was still naked under the sheet and Jax, lying next to her, was naked as well.

“Sorry to disturb you,” a nurse named Molly said, “but your friend is lucid. He’s fading in and out so you better come quick if you want to talk to him.”

Jax threw his legs over the edge of the bed, kissed Ruby on the nose. He snatched up the fresh scrubs he’d grabbed from the locker room as Molly disappeared, letting the door close behind her.

His voice was rough as he spoke. “Shit, what time is it?”

They’d fallen into a deep sleep after their love-making—which was the only way to describe what Jax had done to her. He’d made love to her until the water in the locker room shower ran cold. Then he’d carried her—because she hadn’t been able to walk, her legs were so weak—into this room where he’d made love to her again. Slowly, skillfully, masterfully. For hours, she’d left the rest of the world behind and surrendered herself to him and his amazing hands and lips.