Heatseeker (Atrati) (31 page)

Rachel could see that. Easily. “Kadin’s pretty stubborn.”

“I’d say pot and kettle, but I think you know that.”

Rachel sighed and nodded. “I do.”

“That’s not the only thing you two have in common.”

Rachel knew Jayne wasn’t talking about the mind-blowing sex. “What do you mean?”

“You both lead with your emotions. For each other.”

“He doesn’t have feelings for me.” Not real ones. “He still sees me as some fantasy he created in his head when we were kids.”

“You’re wrong about that.” Jayne sounded so certain.

“How would you know?”

“Because a man like Kadin Marks doesn’t lose his shit over a fantasy.”

“You’re right, Jayne. I don’t.”

Rachel spun around. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Too long for you not to have noticed. You’re tired, angel. You’d better sleep on the plane.”

She wanted to talk on the plane. Her emotions were leaking out around the edges, and she knew that the only way to get a handle on what was going on inside of her was to have it out with Kadin. Once and for all.

“Later, angel. We’ll talk later. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you reading minds now?”

“Just yours.”

Jayne snorted, but she didn’t say anything, just turned away. “I need to call the Old Man before we take off.”

“When do we have to be at the airport?” Rachel asked Kadin.

“Roman has a jet scheduled with a takeoff slot in two hours.”

“What did Jayne mean, that you lost it?”

“When I figured out you’d left on your own, I might have gotten a little loud.”

“But you left the earbud in the Land Rover. You expected me to take off after Jamila.”

“I wanted to be prepared for it; I didn’t expect it. Those are two different things.”

“Oh.”

He sat down beside her and pulled her in to his side. Like a lightbulb coming on in a room that had been dark too long, she realized something. He was always touching her. If they were in the same room, he wanted to be next to her. Right next to her. Not just on the same couch but touching, and his hand was always reaching out to offer comfort.

Would a man be that attached to a woman he didn’t really see, a woman who was no more than a fantasy?

“What’s happening at Lavigne’s house?” she asked, because as much as she wanted to figure out what was happening between her and Kadin, she still had a job to do.

Even if she was officially on leave.

“Nothing so far. We sent in a cleaning crew. When and if Dr. Massri goes to the house to collect his daughter, there will be nothing to see but a mansion completely empty of people.”

“And Lavigne?”

“He’ll be interrogated by your agency once his condition is stabilized.”

“They’re flying in another agent?” This assignment just kept getting bigger.

“Whit recalled Ethan.”

“He can’t do that, can he? Ethan took a leave.”

Kadin shrugged. “He can if Ethan doesn’t argue.”

“So, Ethan’s doing the interrogation?”

“Jayne would do it, but gathering evidence in Egypt is a higher priority because of the timing constraints.”

“She’s scary good.”

“So is Ethan.”

“How do you know?”

“The man worked FBI before TGP. He’s got a rep that would make him a good Atrati.”

“He’s a spy.”

“Who does whatever needs doing to get the job done.”

“That can be bad sometimes.”

“It can, but he’s got a solid moral compass.”

“Good to know, considering he’s the father of my only friend’s baby.”

“Beth isn’t your only friend.”

“Until yesterday, I didn’t even acknowledge she was one.”

“Well, you can make it a banner day and admit I’m your friend, too, Rach.”

She looked up at him, the malaise she’d been struggling with since the torture starting to melt away under the heat of the emotions in his dark eyes. “Are you?”

“You have to ask?”

“I think I want the words.”

“Yes. Rachel, I am your friend, and if you let me, I will always have your back.”

She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“He’s not the only one.” Neil came toward them across the rooftop garden, his eyes still bright with adrenaline, Wyatt close behind him.

“I thought you two were meeting us at the airport,” Rachel said, having no idea how to respond to the mercenary’s offer.

“And let this big lug pack up my babies?” Neil asked with horror lacing his voice as he waved toward Kadin. “Not a chance.”

“I assume you delivered Terne Lavigne and Ralph Giroux into the appropriate hands.” Kadin didn’t seem offended not to be considered good enough to pack up his teammate’s equipment.

“Lavigne is in lockdown at the secure medical facility. Ethan and Beth met us at the airport just like they promised and took custody of Giroux. He took a shine to Beth right away. He’s currently bedeviling Ethan—in perfect English, mind you—with the statistical probabilities of Beth having twins.”

“How did he know she was pregnant?” Rachel asked.

Cowboy shrugged. “That man is scary smart.”

“Did he seem okay?” Kadin asked. “Even a highly functioning autistic can get very agitated being taken out of his comfort zone.”

“Oh, yeah. The thing he seemed most upset about was the food being so many different colors. Apparently, he’s partial to green food.”

“Well, that’s healthy, I guess.”

“I’m betting his caretaker keeps a bottle of green dye in her kitchen. That’s all I’m sayin’.” Cowboy winked at Rachel.

And she felt herself smiling in response. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“We’re leaving in an hour.”

Neil and Wyatt both nodded.

“We’d best get to it.” Wyatt turned his attention to Neil. “I’m fixing to get our kits stowed.”

“Thanks.” The warm look Neil gave Wyatt surprised Rachel.

Wyatt looked shocked, but he was quick on his feet, and he leaned down to bestow a light kiss on Neil’s cheek. “Get your toys packed up, baby.”

Neil turned a little pink and waved the other man away. “Go on, hon, get out of here.”

Cowboy stared. “You called me
hon
. You haven’t done that in at least a year.”

“I also told you to get going.”

Cowboy left, a bemused smile on his rugged Texan features.

“You’ve forgiven him,” Kadin said with more satisfaction and happiness than Rachel would have expected.

Neil nodded.

“You’re going to give him a second chance?” Kadin asked in a tone that said the answer really mattered to him.

“Yes.” Neil looked up, his expression quizzical. “You care about his happiness.”

“I care about both of you, but, yeah, Cowboy’s been a friend since our grunt days. You’re good for him.”

“I’ll try to be, but if he tries to go back into the closet, I’m taping C–4 and a detonator to the door.”

Kadin laughed. “I’ll push the button.”

Neil grinned. “Yeah.”

Chapter Twenty-one

N
eil walked into the room he’d been sharing with Wyatt. Though they’d spent the nights in separate beds.

“We’re leaving in forty-five minutes.” He’d packed his equipment in record time, even skipping a couple of steps on the less fragile of his “babies.”

Wyatt looked up from Neil’s duffel. “I’m almost finished here.”

“Good. I’ve got something I need you to do.”

Wyatt paused, as if he could tell by the quality of Neil’s voice that what he was talking about wasn’t work related. “Do you, now?”

“I do.”

“What might that be?”

“Oh, I think you’ll figure it out.” Neil pulled his Ozzie T-shirt over his head and shucked out of his jeans.

Just in case the other man wasn’t getting the right clue.

“We’re heading to the airport.”

“We don’t have time for everything, but we have time for something.”

“Why?” Wyatt watched him warily. “Is this just sex? Because I don’t think I can do that, Neil.”

“This is me.” Neil waved his hand toward his already hard cock. “Giving you another chance. Do not screw it up.”

Wyatt’s features spasmed, and he pressed the finger and thumb of one hand to his eyes. “Tell me I’m not dreaming, that you’re saying this for real.”

Neil crossed the room and laid his hand on Wyatt’s chest. “I love you,
my
cowboy. It’s not something I can stop, and my heart is more grateful than you’ll ever know that you finally got your head out of your ass.”

Wyatt’s hand dropped, wet gray eyes glittering with a joy Neil never thought he’d be the cause of in another person. “Mine, too.”

“Your mama may never change her mind about family holidays,” Neil warned.

“Then we’ll make our own holiday traditions.”

“Your daddy is not going to let you come back and run the ranch.”

“I’m a mercenary, not a cowboy.”

“Oh, you’re still my cowboy, but you’re my partner, too.”

“Then no more taking unnecessary chances with your life. You have a partner . . . a life partner . . . depending on you.”

“I’m good at what I do.”

“You’re the best, but I’m not going to lose you now that I’ve got you back.”

“I’ll be more careful.” Neil grinned. “Can you get naked now? The clock is ticking.”

Wyatt tore off his clothes and then stood there, his whole body vibrating. “I’m afraid to touch you, afraid I’ll wake up and this won’t be real.”

That was the second time Wyatt had said something like that. “You dream about us getting back together a lot?”

“For an interminable year, those have been the only good dreams I’ve had.”

“You have a lot of nightmares?”

“Memories . . . the look on your face when I told you about my engagement.” Wyatt swallowed convulsively and turned his head away. “I’ll never forget that.”

“Yes, you will.” Neil turned Wyatt’s head back to face him with a hand on his chin. “Look at my face now, and dream about this.”

He let all the love and bone-deep happiness he felt in that moment show in his eyes and the smile he didn’t even try to dim.

Wyatt’s breath caught.

Neil pulled the other man’s head down, their lips coming together in a kiss so profound, it felt like vows were spoken.

Wyatt lifted his head, his breath coming unevenly. “I bought a little place in New York.”

“Upstate?” Neil couldn’t picture his cowboy living in the city.

“Yeah, but it’s still New York.”

“Good.” Neil had never pictured himself living in New York, but he wasn’t overly attached to his apartment in Maryland.

As long as he and Wyatt were together, out in the open, the
where
didn’t really matter.

As an Atrati, he spent at least half the year away from home, anyway.

Wyatt shook his head, his smile crooked. “You can be really dense for such a smart man.”

“Calling me names is not going to get you laid.” Though Neil wanted the other man so much, if they didn’t move this into the next stage soon, he was just going to tackle Wyatt to the bed and be done with it.

“Baby, I’m trying to ask you a question here.”

“You are?” And then Neil got it. “Oh! I mean . . . well, damn it, ask, then.”

“I’m a little nervous.”

“You’ve got experience,” Neil snarked, but the bitterness that might have been there even the day before was gone from his voice.

“Not in asking someone I love more than my own life, more than my old dreams, more than the regard of my family, to marry me.” Oh, shit, he was going to cry. “Neil, I love you with every little bit in me. I will always be there for you if you let me; as long as it is within my power, I will never let you down.”

“Yes.” Neil absolutely believed the other man.

“Wait. Are you saying you’ll marry me?”

“Yes.” He threw his arms around Wyatt, knocking the muscled former Marines MARSOC soldier onto the bed. “My dad is going to be so happy.”

Wyatt laughed, right before nearly kissing the life out of Neil. Kisses led to caresses. Caresses led to rubbing, and rubbing led to climaxes that left the rafters shaking from their shouts and a hot, wet mess on their bodies between them.

Wyatt looked down at Neil, his gray eyes soft with love. “Mine. My beloved is mine, and I am my beloved’s.”

Neil felt tears prick at his eyes. “For a lifetime.” “You’re not getting rid of me through eternity, either.” Wyatt leaned down and kissed Neil, his touch as gentle as the passion had been feral. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for not giving up on us.”

“Never.”

Neil smiled.

Jamila returned from the depths of the house where she had been with Mrs. Abdul since arriving in her torn clothes and Chuma’s suit jacket. Despite the late hour and everything that had happened that night, the young Egyptian woman looked tired but composed.

Mrs. Abdul had given her clothes to wear, and Rachel was surprised to see that they were more Western than Moroccan.

But Jamila appeared comfortable in the Dior skirt that hit her calves only a couple of inches above the ankle and complementary long-sleeved raspberry-colored blouse by the same designer. It was by no means a revealing outfit, but it showed that Jamila wasn’t seeking to hide behind the djellaba and
khimar
she could have worn.

Mrs. Abdul patted the young woman’s shoulder. “You remember,” she said in French. “The words I spoke will be as true tomorrow as they are today.”

Jamila nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude and a peace that shocked Rachel.

Turning to Rachel, the younger woman even managed something very near a smile. “Madame Abdul has taken care of all my concerns. I am ready for our flight to Egypt.”

“I didn’t know she preferred French.” Though some Moroccans did. Rachel turned mystified eyes to Mrs. Abdul. “Thank you for caring for Miss Massri.”

She said the last in French, her accent not nearly as natural as Mrs. Abdul’s.

“There is nothing for which to thank me. She is a remarkable woman and will one day make her mark on this world, I think.”

“I’m sure you are right.”

“She will heal. In all ways,” the older woman said obliquely.

Rachel’s heart constricted in thankfulness. “That is very good to hear.”