Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8) (2 page)

“You shouldn’t say things like that. What will Caleb think?”

Her cheeks grew a touch pinker, and he instantly regretted his comment. “I broke up with Caleb.”

He didn’t like the way that made his heart leap. “Oh? Sorry.”

She turned and leaned against the same table he was leaning on. Her scent overwhelmed his senses, made him want to close his eyes and breathe in. It had been a hard slog out there in the desert, chasing after those assholes who’d taken a group of Americans hostage. The things they’d done to one of the Americans before HOT arrived… it was enough to make a hardened warrior want to cry.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“Did he…?” He didn’t know what to ask. He only knew that if the guy had hurt her in any way, Ryan was going to go
Full Metal Jacket
on his ass in the next hour or so.

“He didn’t do anything. But, well, I… I couldn’t kiss him, Ryan. I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“It’s only been a few months since…” They both knew since what. He cleared his throat. “It takes time. You don’t get over that kind of thing overnight.”

She turned to look at him. He could feel her eyes boring into his profile, but he refused to make eye contact.
 

“I
am
over it. I killed a man, but it’s no different than what you and my sister do. Zaran was a terrorist. It was him or me—and I chose me.”

This time he did look at her. At her small, waiflike form beside him. So delicate and pretty. She might have killed, but she wasn’t a killer.

“I know that, Emily. You did what you had to do. I just don’t think you should expect that life goes back to normal in a certain amount of time. It might take you another year to kiss a guy. Or maybe it’ll be next week.”
 

God, he hoped not. He didn’t want her kissing anyone.

She snorted softly. “Who knows what the future will bring?” She set her Coke on the table and stood. “Maybe I’ll kiss someone tonight.”

“Just don’t do it in front of Victoria,” he shot back. “She’ll castrate the poor guy.”

Emily shook her head. And then she straightened, looking fierce and unafraid. “She has to realize I can take care of myself. You all do, actually.”

“Have I ever said you couldn’t?”

“No. But you hover like a mother hen.”

He felt the sting of that accusation. “I’m your friend. I’m supposed to care.”

One pale eyebrow arched. “Yes, you’re my friend. You’ll always be my friend, won’t you, Ryan?”

He didn’t like her tone, the way she seemed a little hesitant. “Of course I will. We were in combat together. We’ll be comrades forever.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

Then she drifted away, toward where Grace, Evie, Victoria, Olivia, Gina, Lucky, and Georgie were gathered together near a pool table. They weren’t actually playing, but then neither was anyone else at the moment.

Evie appeared to be the center of that conversation. The women all smiled and hugged her. Clearly, this was a celebration of some kind.

Matt stood with the guys and Ryan got up to amble over. Whatever it was, he probably shouldn’t miss it.

“Hey, Flash,” Matt said, shaking his hand. The dude was smiling bigger than Ryan had ever seen him smile before.

“Richie. What did I miss?”

“Evie’s pregnant.”

“Wow, congrats,” Ryan said. The rest of the guys were grinning ear to ear. Jack “Hawk” Hunter, who’d been one of the quietest and deadliest dudes Ryan had ever known before he got married, looked positively amused.
 

“There goes the sleep,” Hawk said. “For at least a few years anyway.”

Matt rubbed a hand over his head, mussing his hair. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m still in shock.” He turned to look at Evie, his expression softening into something Ryan never expected from these hardened guys. But every one of them who was in a relationship did the same thing.

“We’re getting married right away. We’ll have a formal ceremony at Reynier’s Retreat after the baby comes. And I want you all to be there.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Sam “Knight Rider” McKnight said, and everyone agreed.
 

Reynier’s Retreat was Matt’s family plantation in Louisiana. Ryan had seen pictures. The place was pretty spectacular. Like something out of
Gone with the Wind
.

Fresh beers arrived and everyone took one. Then Ryan lifted his and said, “To Matt and Evie and the littlest Girard.”

There was a chorus of “Amen, brother,” before they clinked bottles and drank.

They stayed at Buddy’s for another hour, everyone laughing and joking, drinking beer—unless they were pregnant or had issues with alcohol—and generally having a good time letting off steam. Buddy’s was a haven in many ways. Jack’s wife, Gina, was a famous pop star, but when she walked into Buddy’s, she was just another patron. That was the kind of thing that kept the guys coming back. Buddy’s was home.

Emily didn’t talk to him again. She was quiet, staying on the periphery, until finally she went over and picked up her coat from the chair she’d draped it over. Victoria immediately went to her side, but Emily smiled and dropped her hair over the back of her jacket.

After a few words he couldn’t hear, she hugged Victoria and walked toward the door. Before she stepped out, however, she turned and caught his gaze. Their eyes held for a long moment and his pulse thudded harder.

Then she stepped through the door and the moment was over.

CHAPTER TWO

SHE’D MADE HER CHOICE. Emily wiped a tear from her eye and kept on walking to her car, her back stiff and her chin up. She would do this thing, join Ian Black and his mercenaries for an important mission, and she would make a difference in this world. She spoke Arabic, particularly the Qu’rimi dialect, and she still knew people who had associated with Zaran.

She had a chance to put things right, to stop the Freedom Force from terrorizing innocent people, and she’d get her life back. No more government watch lists. No more no-fly. No more suspicions and mistrust.

Ian Black had promised. All she had to do was leave her life behind for the next few months and go to Acamar where a radical Freedom Force cell was gaining strength. He wanted her help to infiltrate and spy on the group. To do that, she’d need to use all her knowledge of their tactics and structure.

When it was over, she’d be free. But for now she had to leave everything behind and return to the desert. It wasn’t the desert of Qu’rim, but it was close since Acamar shared a border with Qu’rim.

She just hoped Ryan and Victoria would understand. Those were the two people she cared about, the two she didn’t want to disappoint.

Emily drove home and went into her bedroom where the empty carry-on suitcase she’d dragged out earlier lay. Her heart thumped. Tomorrow she was gone. In the morning she would walk out of this apartment and drive to Dulles where she’d meet Ian. Then it was a plane to Paris. She didn’t know how he was going to get her onto a plane, even a private plane, since she still had to pass through TSA security checks, but he’d assured her it was possible.

Emily packed her summer gear. She’d left the abayas behind when she’d left Qu’rim, but she was going to have to start wearing them again. When she finished packing, she turned on CNN International and watched the news. She’d avoided it when she’d first returned. She hadn’t wanted to see the videos of terrorists beheading innocent civilians, hadn’t wanted to think that people like that existed, though she knew they did.

The Freedom Force didn’t behead tourists. Yet. If they thought it would benefit them in some way, they certainly would. That much she knew.

Emily set the suitcase by the door and sank down on the bed to scrub her hands over her arms. She was chilled even though she wore a sweatshirt and jeans. She should get ready for bed, but there was no way she would sleep tonight.

She picked up her phone and clicked on her text messages. It hit her that Ryan was the one who usually left and went silent, but this time it would be her. And the thought of not seeing him again punched her in the throat and stole her breath.

Because it was possible she might not make it out alive. Possible this mission would go wrong and she’d be the one who didn’t come home again.

She dropped the phone and pulled her hands over her face. She couldn’t leave like this. Not without seeing him one more time. Not without touching him. It was selfish of her, she knew that, but it was also somehow necessary.

Emily grabbed her keys, picked up the suitcase, and hurried out the door. She drove into Maryland, her heart in her throat the entire way. What would she say when she got there? What would she do?

She didn’t precisely know, but she knew she had to go to him.

When she pulled into the apartment complex where he lived, she sat with her hands on the wheel, staring at his apartment. He was on the ground floor. Number 112. She’d never been here before, but she knew.

Emily turned off the car and got out, locking it and then wiping her hands down her jeans. Her palms were moist even though it was winter. Her heart hammered as she walked into the narrow corridor between apartments. She stood at his door for a long minute, her breath frosting in the night air, before she summoned her courage and rapped on the metal.

She didn’t hear any movement, but then the door whipped open and Ryan stood there in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. His chest was bare, the hard muscles smooth and tanned and very, very defined. He was sweating, which told her he’d probably been working out. Tattoos ran down one arm, a mix of tribal decorations that she’d only ever partially seen before.

He didn’t look surprised to see her, but then she knew he never would have opened the door without knowing precisely who stood on the other side.
 

Emily swallowed. She felt very small and very out of her element at that moment.

“What happened?” Ryan demanded. “Did that Caleb guy do something? Why didn’t you text me?”

She shook her head and shivered. “No, nothing happened. I just… I had to see you.”

She shrugged helplessly, and Ryan’s eyes softened. He swore, but then he stepped back and motioned her inside. Not before his eyes skimmed the surroundings though.

Emily walked into his apartment, hugging herself tight. The furniture was sparse, but that didn’t surprise her. She didn’t know why, but after so many months of talking to him on the phone, texting him, she felt like she knew who he was.

And who he was wasn’t very concerned about decor.
 

He crossed his arms and stood as far from her as he could get without leaving the room. Her courage faltered as his expression remained unchanged.

“You’ve never done this before, Emily. What’s going on?”

She sank onto the edge of his couch, deflated a little now that she was here. “I missed you, Ry. I told you that. And seeing you at the bar, not being able to touch you if I wanted to… it kills me.”

She’d never said anything like that to him before, and his expression was a mix of shock and regret. Did he want to be able to touch her too? God, she hoped so.

“Emily.” He shoved a hand through his hair. The ends stood up because his hair was damp. On someone else it would have looked ridiculous. On him it was sexy as hell. Everything about him was sexy.

Which scared her, because she hadn’t been with a man in a very long time. Zaran had lost interest at a certain point. No, not precisely lost interest. He’d had to keep himself clean and pure, he’d said. And since she wasn’t able to give him a child, there had been no point in continuing to sully himself.

Sully himself
. As if she were a pool of mud or blood or some other unspeakable substance.
 

She bowed her head to get hold of herself again. Ryan was there, kneeling on the floor beside her, his hand going beneath her chin and forcing her to look at him.

He had pale blue eyes that reminded her of a wolf sometimes, but not now. Not when they were soft and worried like this.

His mouth was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, his lips full and kissable, the top lip slightly less full than the bottom. And there was a dip in that lip, a sexy little dip where she could put her tongue if he were hers.

How many lucky women had kissed Ryan Gordon and sucked on that lip before? Oh, she didn’t want to know. Hot jealousy speared her at the thought.

“You can tell me,” he said. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Haven’t I been a good friend?”

She nodded. And then she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. His eyes darkened for a second, or maybe she’d imagined it. But there was a fire in her fingertips, a fire that raced through her body and lit up nerve endings she’d thought were dead.

“I want you to kiss me, Ry. Please kiss me.”

He didn’t pull away, but this time the look in his eyes was panic. She didn’t mistake that for one second. His grip on her chin tightened a little.

“Emily, don’t ask that of me. Please don’t ask it.”

She dragged in a breath. “Am I that unattractive? That repulsive?”

She feared she was, even if it was an irrational fear. The mirror told another tale, but maybe there was something else. Something she couldn’t fix no matter how hard she tried.