Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8) (10 page)

“It is the same! You’re a Special Operator, and you do what you do to protect our country and its citizens. Well, I got asked to do the same, so here I am. You have no right to deny me the chance to help my country or to clear my name. I couldn’t even
be
with you, Ryan. Not openly, not for your sake. And maybe you didn’t want that anyway, but at least after this I would know it was because of me and not because of something stupid I did in my life.”
 

CHAPTER TEN

RYAN BLINKED. SHE THOUGHT HE wouldn’t want to be with her?
 

God, all he could do was sit here and swallow down the need flooding him like a nuclear shock wave. Because he did want her, even if he was pissed as hell at her. And he didn’t fucking care if she’d been married to a terrorist. He wanted to wrap her body around his and explore to his heart’s content.

Once hadn’t been nearly enough.

“If the fact you’d been married to bin Yusuf meant a damn thing to me, I wouldn’t have kept talking to you in the first place.” He leaned forward, searched her gaze with his. He knew he looked hard and angry, but he didn’t have the ability to be anything else right now. “I encouraged you to find someone more like you. Someone who wasn’t a part of this fucking life. You didn’t need this shit again, yet you’re in it and I fail to understand why you’d even begin to think that was okay.”

Her eyes widened. And then color flooded her face. “Goddamn you, Ryan.” She slapped a hand to her chest. “
I
make my own choices, all right? You don’t get to make them for me. And what the hell does that mean, someone more like me? A damn basket case? Someone scared of their own shadow like I was?”

He didn’t miss that she said
was.
Jesus, he didn’t understand her at all. Who was this woman?

“It means someone normal, Emily. Someone who doesn’t live on the edge of disaster as a means of earning a living. You deserve the picket fence, a guy who worships you and who’ll be there for you every night. You deserve better than what you had before, and you deserve better than someone like me.”

She snorted. “Listen to you. What made you ever think I wanted a picket fence? When did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to say it. I saw you that night, when you were covered in his blood and suffering from shock. It would have never happened if you’d been back in the States, going to college, meeting some nice frat boy there and getting married.”

Emily gaped at him, then shook her head. “You’re kidding, right? Don’t you watch the TV when you’re Stateside, Einstein? How many
perfect
”—here she did air quotes—“
marriages
end up on the nightly news? How many unsolved murder shows are there on TV about relationships gone sour? You aren’t living in reality if you think the same thing couldn’t have happened to me in the States. No one is safe.”

He gripped the cup so hard he thought he might break it. Finally he shoved it away and took a deep breath. How did she do this to him? How did she twist him up inside so thoroughly and make him uncertain which way was up?

He’d thought he knew her. He’d thought he knew who she was and what she needed, but he was finding out he hadn’t known a goddamn thing. Because she hadn’t been truthful with him. She’d come crying to him so many times over the past few months, but here she was as strong as he’d ever seen her. Confident and certain.

“You aren’t the person I thought I knew.”

“I
am
the same, Ryan. You just can’t see it because you’re angry.” She put her hands on the tabletop, clenched them together and looked at him earnestly. “I’m trying to fix my life, fix what I did wrong. Am I scared? Hell, yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m quitting. I can’t quit because I want the life I should have had. I want the freedom and the choice—and I want to save Linda Cooper and her baby.”

She pushed back and stood. Their gazes locked for a long moment—and then she turned and walked away.

* * *

Emily woke up sick the next morning. Her stomach churned and sent her running straight for the bathroom. Once there, she threw up what little was in her stomach. Then she rinsed her mouth with water and stared at herself in the mirror.

Had she gotten some kind of crud? No one else was sick in the compound, but she didn’t suppose that meant she couldn’t be. She went out into the city often enough to come into contact with a bug.

She turned on the shower and got under the spray, hoping it would help settle the nausea a little bit. Her breasts were tender when she ran her hands over them and she winced. What the fuck?

Linda Cooper flashed through her mind, and Emily gritted her teeth.
Not pregnant, not possible.

She’d seen a doctor, a Qu’rimi man who hadn’t been very nice but had been perfectly competent. He’d said something about scarring on her tubes and impossible for an egg to get through, etc., etc. She’d had the report in her hand, and she’d gotten into the car Zaran had sent her in and gone back to their home crushed and weepy.

She didn’t need to relive that moment to know how wrong it was to even attempt comparing her symptoms. Not to mention, no matter how much the thought of a dark-headed copy of Ryan might make her heart clench with longing, it most certainly wasn’t something he would want to deal with when all they’d had was a one-night stand.

Especially not with the way he’d looked at her last night—like she’d betrayed him.

Emily finished her shower, then dressed, gasping when her hand brushed the side of her breast as she dragged on her T-shirt. She strapped on her weapons, slicked her hair into a wet ponytail, and gathered her courage before going downstairs.

She found Ian in his office. There was no one else with him at the moment. He looked up from his laptop as she entered.

“You look green,” he said, frowning.

Emily sighed. “I know. Everyone keeps telling me.”

He snapped the laptop closed. “I’ll have Jared check you out.”

Jared was one of the medics Ian kept on the payroll. But he was more than a medic, having been an Air Force Pararescueman. He was as badass as any Special Operator, but with medical skills that were vital to a forward-based unit such as this.

And Emily absolutely did not want to see him. She didn’t want anything to interfere with her mission here, especially now that Ryan had arrived. If she had a sniffle, or a stomach flu, he’d insist she needed evacuating. Emily didn’t think Ian would cave in to that demand, but she didn’t want to watch the two of them go head-to-head again.

“No, it’s fine. I probably ate something.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t risk you passing something to others around here.” He picked up his cell phone and tapped in a message.

“I have to meet with Mustafa today. You aren’t going to pull me, are you?”

Ian looked up. “Can you manage it?”

Emily swallowed a wave of nausea. “Of course. Who else is there? Besides, he trusts me.”

“It’s getting more dangerous,” Ian said. “Mustafa is unpredictable, paranoid. And he knows who you are.”

Emily shrugged, though she didn’t particularly feel dismissive. It’s just that she couldn’t dwell on the danger if she was going to do this job right.

“He’s known that for a while. I would think if he’d planned to betray me in some way, he’d have done it by now. The longer he talks to me, the worse it looks for him if anyone finds out.”

Ian nodded. “That’s certainly true. Still, I don’t like how he’s been stringing you along lately. He knows where the hostages are.”

Emily had been thinking about that. “But what if he doesn’t? He could just want us to think he knows so we’ll keep paying him.”

“It’s possible. But his information in the past has always checked out.”

“Yes, but he could have pissed someone off. Maybe they’re suspicious of him.”

Ian frowned. “If they are, that’s not good for you, Emily. They’ll be watching him.”

“I’ll take extra security then. They won’t grab me in a public marketplace in broad daylight.”

“I’m going with you.”

Emily’s head swung toward the door at the same time Ian’s did. Ryan was silhouetted there along with Chase Daniels. They filled the wide entryway as if it were nothing. Shoulder to shoulder, they were big and intimidating in native dress instead of their typical military camouflage.

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit, fellas,” Ian said.
 

Ryan walked into the room. “Funny coming from a spy.”

Ian shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Both of you, stop.”

Because she knew it wouldn’t take much to set these two at each other’s throats. Ryan hated Ian for bringing her out here. And Ian just plain didn’t like anyone who let their emotions cloud their thinking. He was the ultimate
Star Trek
Vulcan in some respects—or so she’d have thought if not for the chink in his armor concerning her sister.
 

“I’m going.” Ryan’s tone brooked no argument.

Emily got to her feet and faced him. How had she ever thought he was easygoing and fun? He’d been there for her so often, and he’d never judged. But now?

Holy shit, now he couldn’t seem to turn off the Judgey McJudge thing he had going on. It pissed her off.

“You aren’t going, Ry. I’ve been doing this without you for nearly two months, and I don’t need you guard-dogging me now. You’ll compromise the mission.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously? Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I live for the mission, sweetheart. And I’ve never compromised one yet.”

“I already have a partner on this—”

“You said you were taking extra security. It’s me and Chase, or you aren’t going.”

Her blood pressure had to be off the charts by now. Maybe if she walked over and punched the daylights out of him, she’d feel better. More likely, she’d break her hand in the process, and then she’d have to suffer for a split second of satisfaction.

“You are not the boss of me.” It sounded so childish when she said it—and yet there it was. She was furious.
 

His jaw hardened. “You’ve made that clear, Emily. But I’ll be damned if I let you go out there without some real backup.”

She glanced at Ian, certain he’d be pissed at that slight to his guys, but he merely shrugged. Then he waved a hand.

“Take them. It’ll free up the guys for some other stuff around here.”

Not the answer she’d been expecting. But Ian did what he wanted, and right now he didn’t want to fight with Ryan about this.

Emily stalked toward the door. Ryan didn’t move, so she pushed him out of the way. Chase stepped back and held up both hands as if he were scared of her. Of course he wasn’t, but at least he recognized a pissed-off woman when he saw one.

Now if only Ryan were half so smart…

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EMILY WENT STRAIGHT TO THE supply room and grabbed a freshly laundered abaya. She jerked it on with angry movements and then went to find David, the operative who usually shadowed her when she met with Mustafa.

He was in the dining area, finishing up breakfast. Emily plopped down beside him, ignoring her silent watchdogs as she did so. David looked up, his gaze going from one to the other and then over to her for an answer.

“Extra security,” she said, reaching for a piece of toast and nibbling a corner. It didn’t make her stomach turn, so that was good. She turned around to look at the men standing behind her. Ryan looked militant. Chase simply looked resigned. And they both looked imposing. “We aren’t leaving for another hour,” she said. “You might as well sit down. Or go polish your weapons.”

“Not letting you out of my sight, Emily,” Ryan practically growled.
 

Her heart bumped. She knew what he didn’t say—that he didn’t trust her not to go without him.

And truthfully, she couldn’t say she wouldn’t prefer it that way. But she wasn’t stupid, and Ryan and Chase were HOT, which meant something. Definitely not a bad pair to have at your back when meeting with a terrorist.

When it was time to go, they headed out to the street. David had briefed them both on procedure, and she was glad to see that they’d blended into the crowds on the street as they followed her through the city to the market.

It was early enough that the heat wasn’t oppressive, but she was still uncomfortable. And she’d been so mad she’d forgotten to strap on her waterskin. It wasn’t standard procedure since she wasn’t going out into the desert, but she liked to have water on her because of how ill she’d been lately.

She’d just have to wait until they reached the market and she could get a bottle of cool water from a vendor.

It took about fifteen minutes, but she finally reached the small café where Mustafa had dictated this meeting should take place. She’d come yesterday and he hadn’t shown, but perhaps he would today.

Emily took a seat at the rear of the shop and watched the street. The café and market were open-air, and sweat trickled down her brow in spite of the overhead fans whipping at high speed.

The proprietor brought her a bottle of water and a small coffee, though the minute the strong scent invaded her nostrils, her stomach turned. She pushed it aside and took a sip of the water.