No Turning Back (20 page)

Swallowing, he fought not to kiss her. He wanted in her, even if it was only his tongue in her mouth. “But we didn't. And there's no way I could have walked away and let you face that alone.” As it was, he'd remember the terror in her expression until the day he died.

Sam pressed her lips together a moment, as though fighting not to cry. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ah, damn. “Anytime.”

She laid her palms against his bearded cheeks, freezing him. Ben's heart started a slow thud. He had plenty of time to avoid the kiss he knew was coming, but couldn't make himself move. Her lashes lowered as she dipped her head toward him, and he even raised his head to meet the brush of her lips against his. The sweet contact hit him like a fist, and had him opening to the tentative caress of her tongue, then winding his hands into her thick hair to hold her closer.

She surrounded him with her warmth, following as he dropped his head back against the cushion, her lips gentle as she explored him, the glide of her tongue erotic as hell. She gave a soft murmur and moved deeper, gaining confidence with each slow twirl. When her luscious breasts pressed against the wall of his chest, he groaned and arched his back, helpless to stop as pleasure swamped him. One of his hands went down her back to grasp her butt, holding her tight against the aching length of him, ready to burst at the thought of pushing into her.

The sharp knock at the door saved him from caving completely.

Sam jerked back and scrambled to her knees, her face flushed and her breathing unsteady.

“Don't worry,” he soothed, stroking her cheek as he got up to answer it, snagging his gun from the table before checking the peephole. “It's just Luke,” he said, and unlocked it.

Their boss strode in, eyes sweeping over Sam's huddled figure on the couch, then to him. He raised his brows in a silent question.

“Haven't talked to her about it yet,” Ben said in a low voice. “She's still upset.”

If Luke sensed that anything had happened between them, he didn't let on, and crossed the room to sit on the corner of the coffee table. “How you doing?” he asked Sam.

“Okay.”

Ben took a seat on the couch next to her, but not close enough to touch her. He braced himself for what was coming. Sam had some tough questions to answer, and he desperately wanted her to be innocent of any wrongdoing.

“I'd wait to do this if I could,” said Luke, “but we don't have time. We captured two of the arms dealer's men and questioned them.” His dark gaze settled on her. “I want to know what really went down out there tonight. In the second meeting.”

Sam curled sideways on the couch, hugging her arms around her waist, but otherwise didn't seem upset or surprised by his demand. “The transmitter stopped working, didn't it.”

God, she knew? Ben's hands clenched into fists.

Luke nodded. “As soon as you went through that second door.”

She sighed, dragged a hand through her mussed hair. “I was afraid of that.” She fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. “I just wasn't sure if it was that, or if you'd decided to leave me there after all.”

Christ, Ben thought as his stomach tightened. She'd really thought that?

“The building was concrete. I don't know how thick, but I noticed the acoustics were different. Dampened. So I thought maybe it was reinforced somehow. It must have blocked the frequency, and then when they put the... the vest over me,” her voice thickened for a moment but she regained control before finishing. “It muffled anything you'd be able to pick up when I left.” She lowered her eyes and toyed with the cuff of his hoodie. “Sorry I lost contact. Guess the design wasn't very good.”

Luke exchanged a glance with Ben that said it was possible. Then he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “So what happened in there?”

She took a deep breath. “The arms dealer took the money and put it in a safe.” Her head came up. “I need a pen.”

Ben grabbed one, slid it and a piece of paper to her and she began sketching on it with quick sweeps.

“Remember in Paris when I was searching through that database and pulled up a hit on a group working in the tribal region on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border that used the symbol of a black scorpion?”

“The Islamic Resistance.”

“Yes. He was putting the money into the safe and when his sleeve pulled up I saw this symbol tattooed on his forearm.” She spun the paper around for him to look at.

Ben studied the drawing of the black scorpion. He'd seen that before, too, during his job as security chief for Daoud in Beirut.

Luke's expression sharpened. “You sure?”

“Yes, because he said he'd been warned I was more intelligent than most, and then told me he worked so well with Tehrazzi because they only used messengers like me once.” She glanced at Ben. “That's when they put the vest on me. I tried to fight them off, but... ”

His eyes trailed along the bruise marking her jaw. “Is that how you got that?”

“Yes. I nailed him with a shot of pepper spray, though.”

From her hair clip. Good for her. “Hurting?”

“No, it's fine.” She seemed uncomfortable that he was bringing attention to it, but it looked sore. Her head was probably pounding because of it.

The bruise had him wondering what other injuries she'd suffered. But what he hated most was knowing she'd been in there questioning whether they'd abandoned her. That's what had been going through her head while she'd tried to fight them off, and while they'd put that fucking vest on her.

Sam took a deep breath, then laid a hand on Luke's knee. “Is that where Nev and the others are? In the northwest region with someone from the Islamic Resistance? It fits with the police reports that she was taken in that direction.”

“Could be.” Luke cocked his head. “Anything else?”

“No. Just... thank you, for getting me out of... that thing.”

When she repressed a shiver, Ben had to hold back from scooping her up in his arms again.

Luke waved her thanks away. “Nothing to thank me for.”

“Yes, there is.”

Luke got to his feet and pulled out his phone, dialing as he went to the door. “Be ready to leave by first light, and get some sleep if you can.” His eyes cut to Ben. “I'll update you when I know something further.”

“'Kay.” After Luke left he turned the deadbolt and threw on the safety latch, then gathered his thoughts for a moment before facing Sam.

She was staring hard at the paper, tapping the pen absently with her brain no doubt searching through its endless data files trying to remember anything about the Islamic Resistance she'd seen or heard about.

He took her a bottle of water and uncapped it. She barely glanced up at him when he offered it to her, a trait he now recognized as meaning she was concentrating on something.

“Thanks.” She tipped her head back and drained half of it, and then closed her eyes with a sigh. “Looks like we're going to the tribal region, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

She rolled the bottle between her hands, back and forth, the plastic crinkling and crunching. “Guess it's too late for me to back out now.”

When he didn't answer, she stopped and met his gaze. Damn, he wanted to tell her she didn't have to go, but they didn't have a choice with Tehrazzi using her as the contact. That fucking sucked. “Yeah.”

Sam rubbed her fingers over her eyes as though she was exhausted. And she had every right to be.

Did she have the strength to keep going after what had happened tonight? He almost scooped her up again, but something held him back. “You should get some sleep. We could be leaving in a matter of hours.”

“Yeah.” Her fingers slid around the back of her neck and squeezed as she rolled her head from side to side. “God, what a day.”

Tell me about it
. Luke had interrupted the only good part of it.

She sighed again, and stretched her neck as she rubbed her jaw gingerly.

“Being hit in the jaw can give you a wicked headache. Believe me, I know, having been smashed in the face a few times.” Mostly by his brother. He nudged her hand out of the way and sat next to her, kneading the taut muscles. Her soft groan was the best compliment he'd ever received. Steeling himself, he kept up with it until she squeezed his hand by way of a thank you and stood up without looking at him.

“Guess I'll hit the rack.”

“Sure.” He knew damn well she wouldn't sleep after what had happened, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Nor was he going to go after her. Not so very long ago he would have, and gotten her naked and in bed without thinking twice. But he'd changed. He wouldn't let his emotions get in the way, and the proof was in his ability to ignore the urge to go over and draw her into his arms again. If she wanted comfort, she'd have to come to him. And then heaven help them both.

“Night.”

“Night.”

Somehow he stayed where he was while she went into the other bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam lay in the darkness, huddled deep in Ben's bed. She could hear the shower running on the other side of the wall, imagined his tall, muscular body under the flow of water. Every cell in her body cried out for him. Flopping over, she hugged the pillow to her chest to stem the ache of longing the image evoked. She wanted him so badly and suspected the feeling might be mutual, but he hadn't made a single move toward her after Luke had interrupted them. Was it because he was dealing with his own emotions about what had happened out there tonight? Or was he still hung up on Bryn and she didn't make the cut?

Not that Sam could blame him. That woman was something else— a terrifying cross between Xena, warrior princess, and a Victoria's Secret model. She wouldn't have needed the pepper spray tonight. No, Bryn would have kicked their asses with her bare hands and feet, and might even have made it out before they'd put the vest on her. She was fierce.

Sam sighed. The only fierce thing about her was her brain, and even that hadn't saved her tonight. Covering her eyes with her hands, she blew out a shaky breath. It had been so close. Without Ben and the rest of the team...

She shoved the morbid thought away. Dwelling on that was a waste of energy, plus it would only upset her all over again. What was done was done. Right now, she had an overload of adrenaline and longing to deal with, and the object of her desires was in the shower in the next room.

They were going into the tribal region with the rest of the team in the morning, and she was smart enough to be afraid of what would happen out there. The moment they touched down in that chopper, they were walking targets. Might as well pin a bright red bull's eye to their backs. Trying to find, and then extract, Neveah and the rest of the hostages was going to be every bit as dangerous as tonight's operation that had almost killed her. And Ben... He and the others were going into harm's way because of her cousin, so if anything happened to them, it would be Sam's fault.

Don't go there. Think positive.

She had to look at the important things. She was alive. Ben and the others were alive. For the moment, they were all safe. They had at least one last night on earth. Her fingers fidgeted on the bedspread. God, if anything happened to him or the others she'd never forgive herself. Her feelings for Ben were so intense, she couldn't even handle the thought of him being wounded. He could have died tonight. All three of them could have.

The shower quit.

Sam bit her lip in hesitation. She had two options: pine for him alone in her bed, or spend the night in it with him. Did she have the guts to ask him? Because he wasn't coming to her, she could tell that much. If she wanted him, she was going to have to go after him. Right now, before she wasted what could be her last chance. Her heart sped up. He might push her away. She wasn't experienced with the casual sex thing, and hadn't ever been the aggressor before in terms of luring a man into her bed. Mind you, she'd never been motivated to take on the role before now.

Ben Sinclair was all the incentive she needed. She'd never wanted like this in her life, and had never dreamed she could feel like this about anyone.

When the bathroom door opened a minute later, her newfound courage fled as fast as it had formed. She listened to him moving around the other part of the suite, all the while scolding herself for getting cold feet while the clock kept ticking. Rhys probably wouldn't be back until morning. They were all alone, so if Ben rejected her, only the two of them would know about it. Wasn't the chance of being with him worth the risk of being shut down? No one had ever died of humiliation. If he said no she'd handle it like an adult, get over it and do her job tomorrow like a professional without missing a beat.

The sliver of light coming under her door went out as he turned off the lamp. Was he stretching out on the couch? All that lean, sexy muscle laid out like a mouth-watering banquet. She didn't hear the TV, though he was a considerate guy and would have kept the volume low or on mute so as not to disturb her. Maybe he didn't realize he disturbed her just by existing. To the point where she couldn't breathe without wanting him on top of her, inside her.

For crying out loud, he's right outside this room. Get up and go to him.

Something held her back. Pride, fear of rejection maybe. She made herself sit up and throw back the covers. She'd just survived a plot to blow her up. God, she was afraid to make a move on a man she lusted after, and she was about to go on a military op in hostile territory?

That did it. She was no wimp. Worst he could say was no. She would recover from that.

Sam stood up, took a bracing breath to slow her racing heart, and padded to the door. Her hand closed around the knob, turned it slowly and pushed the door open a few inches. The suite was dark, quiet. No flickering glow of light came from the other room, so he wasn't watching TV. Was he asleep? Her steps faltered.

“Sam?”

She jerked at the sound of his voice, and pressed a hand to her galloping heart as his shadowy silhouette appeared in the far doorway. “Hi.”

“You okay? I thought you'd be fast asleep.”