Running Hot (10 page)

After only a few days of knowing Ward and less than an hour of rolling around naked with him, Tasha guessed he would swear at the agent and laugh at her solution. She kept it quiet anyway. No need to risk being wrong and rock their newfound equilibrium now that they'd found some.

She swallowed a few times before diving in. “Admittedly, I might be a wee bit defensive.”

He didn't look at her. “I'm not responding to that.”

Something deep and raw tugged at her. The need to explain, maybe. To make him get it. “And whining isn't my style. As you've pointed out, I tend to get angry at being trivialized, instead.”

He glanced over at her. “You think that I don't know how much some men in our business suck? How they use women for information and a bit of fun then look at their fellow female agents as party tricks?”

“But you don't engage in the behavior.” She didn't ask it as a question because she knew the answer.

“Never.”

The way he jumped to the right response without fumbling around and trying to gauge her reaction killed off some of the anxiety pinging around inside of her. “Some of those guys—not all, of course—view me as their assistant. No one ever asked me to get coffee, but a few came close.”

He stumbled over a loose root poking out of the ground but quickly regained his balance. “I'm guessing you outranked those jackasses.”

A wave of relief hit her hard enough to shake her balance. When he reached out with a hand on her elbow, she let him help steady her. The flash of chivalry appealed to her. She was starting to think everything about him did.

She mentally walked through this part with some care. “Normally I ignore the nonsense simply by doing my job well.”

“Are you saying for some reason I bring out the worst in you?”

Apparently not enough care to get him to stop saying things that sent her temper spiking. “Maybe this worked better when you didn't respond.”

He nodded as he kept scanning the area and shifting branches out of their way as they walked. “Right.”

A warm breeze punched her face, and the squawk of birds had her glancing up into the thick green blanket of trees. She didn't see anything, but the area burst to life with activity. Not the human kind, but she knew more gunmen lurked out there somewhere. Sooner or later, someone would figure out men were missing or not checking back after their scouting runs, and the tropical paradise would turn into a war zone.

“Gareth.” That's all she said. The name of the other man on her mind. The one plunging her into a pool of guilt.

Ward shot her a confused frown. “Excuse me?”

“For the last twenty-four hours, I've assumed he's off having wild sex somewhere, drinking until he can't move.” That fit with what she knew about him after their short time paired up together.

She still believed that was the issue. Gareth's file contained more than one warning about his behavior. He'd go on assignment and then go radio silent. She got the distinct impression Fiji was his last shot at holding on to his job. If so, she hoped he had other skills.

“He sounds competent,” Ward said without breaking stride.

“That's part of my point. I couldn't get away with that.” And that distinction poked at her. Made her dislike Gareth when she barely knew the man.

He'd checked in, then said he was going to take a few hours off. Now, nothing. She'd been about to handle the breach of protocol by hunting his sorry ass down when she found Ward rummaging through her bag. Which reminded her that she had a lot to report at her next check with headquarters.

“Actually, the point is you wouldn't try.” Ward steered them farther into the trees and off the path around the open area. “Not your style.”

He was right, but still. Men she'd worked with for ten years couldn't reach that conclusion without a diagram and more than a few threats from her. Yet Ward bounced right there.

She didn't know whether to be flattered or terrified. She had almost no experience with either emotion. “You've only known me for a few days.”

He shrugged. “I can read people.”

Not to point out the obvious . . . “You didn't know I was MI6 until I drugged you and took your wallet.”

“The whole wanting-to-strip-you-naked thing got in my way.” He stopped and turned to face her. “Around you my brain cells misfire.”

Her stomach did this weird bouncing thing. She half hoped she'd come down with malaria, because if this was some sort of reaction to Ward and his words, she was in deep trouble.

But she had to admit she didn't hate the comments or the strange show of support. “That's kind of sweet.”

“Really? Because wanting you this much is driving me fucking nuts.” And from the glaring and narrowed eyes, he looked pretty pissed off about it.

“Poor baby.”

“My point is I've seen you in action. Most men couldn't take me down. You did it.”

She held up two fingers because it was either that or touch him. And she
could not
touch him again. Not now. “Twice.”

“Right. “ He folded his fingers over hers. “Twice.”

Something sizzled inside her as she waited for him to drop her hand, to start walking again or reading off tactics for the plan. But he just stood there with his fingers threaded through hers and stared right into her eyes until the intensity had her glancing away.

“You don't panic. You use your smarts. You can hit a target without blinking.” His other hand brushed against her cheek. “Trust me when I say I don't view you as window dressing or an extra on this job. I'm betting at some point during the next few hours you'll end up saving my life.”

“Is that a line?” Because if it was, she could ignore it. Pretending he didn't exist and didn't affect her were two things she hadn't been able to accomplish.

“No.”

So much for pretending
. She went into his arms then. Up on her toes until her mouth hovered over his. “Good.”

Then she kissed him with all the pent-up frustration that had been building. All the need and the whip of desire. Kissed him until the blood left her head and the dizziness assailed her.

Kissed him deep and long . . . right up until she heard the approaching footsteps.

Chapter Eight

W
ARD HEARD A
trace, the barest whisper from incoming footsteps. Heard and ignored because this was not the kind of kiss you cut short. You let it linger until it took hold and wiped out everything else. And since he knew that walk and recognized the low whistle as his arranged signal, he knew they weren't in danger.

Ford let out a long exhale as he stepped up beside them. “Good thing I'm not a rabid killer hiding Stinger missiles or anything.”

As he lifted his head, the depth of the miscalculation hit Ward. He hadn't thought through the sarcasm or counted on the amount of shit he was going to hear about this. Ford was not the type to let this go. To let anything go.

Ward went for the verbal block. “I knew you were there.”

“So did I,” Tasha said as she pushed at Ward's arms and stepped out of his hold.

Ford's gaze flicked between Tasha and Ward. “And are we pretending I didn't just see that kiss?”

Ward decided not to sugarcoat this. “Yes.”

“Only if you want to live,” she said at the same time.

“Okay.” Ford clapped and kept rubbing his hands together. “Let's also all pretend we're professionals for a second.”

An eerie calm fell over Tasha. “Meaning?”

Ward felt the conversation careen right out of control. Ford was a trained killer, but Ward didn't underestimate Tasha. Not anymore. “A little warning here. That word is a trigger for her.”

“Want me to shoot you?” Her eyebrow lifted as if daring Ford to say yes. “You know, just to prove how good a shot I am?”

Ford being Ford, he didn't show any outward reaction. “Are all Brits this touchy?”

Before she reached for her weapon and treated them to a live demonstration—and Ward sensed that minute was coming—he plunged ahead. Now would be a good time anyway, since Tasha had made her point and Ford's mind needed to be on something other than that kiss he saw.

“Where is he?” Ward didn't have to say whom. Ford and Tasha knew.

“Here.” Ford used his plain black watch to pull up a satellite map of Tigana's outpost, which he'd now confirmed as the target. “I've been doing the head count. We're outnumbered, and they're talking to each other, so they can mobilize.”

Ward tucked that last bit of information away for later. “How many men are we talking about?”

With three of them working at top efficiency, they could knock out a small army. But that required information and planning . . . and time. The last one was proving to be a huge problem.

Tasha had written off Gareth's disappearance to sex and alcohol. Ward hoped that was true, but as the hours passed without communication, he started to think something else was at play. Gareth could be working for anyone, or he could be dead. Ward didn't like either of those options.

Ford shook his head. “Not sure of the exact number of guards, but more than ten are walking around at all times, and Tigana keeps himself surrounded and secreted away.”

“Chicken shit.” Not as strong as Ward wanted to say but it made his point.

The wind kicked up, and the branches rattled. All three of them shifted into position—backs together and anchored to the nearest large tree trunk for some cover. If a gunman had tracked Ford, which Ward couldn't imagine, or stumbled into their location, they'd be able to track him from all directions.

As the minutes dragged on, Ward kept his arms locked in the firing position as he listened to every sound. He honed in on a few, none of them human.

Once he'd placed them and discounted them as threats, he dropped his hands. “We need a plan.”

Tasha jumped in. She looked first to Ford. “You finish the count, and I'll take out a guard. That way I can grab the radio or whatever they're using to talk to one another and gain the advantage.”

Ward had to give her credit for guts, but no way was that plan happening. He trusted her to do the work, but there was a better way. His way. “Wrong, you'll go with Ford, and I'll grab a guard.”

The glare she shot him could have melted steel. “We're not arguing about this.”

She could huff, scream—anything—and still not win this one. “No, Tasha, we're not.”

“I don't like it when Mom and Dad fight,” Ford said in a childlike sing-songy voice.

Tasha let out one of her the-men-are-driving-me-apeshit sighs. “You're not funny.”

Not to be outdone, Ford shrugged. “I kind of am.”

Enough
. Ward put a hand on her arm and turned her until she faced him. “This isn't a man-woman thing. This is a practical issue. These guys outweigh you.”

“Which is irrelevant when I sneak up behind them and shoot them in the head.”

Her comeback made his back teeth slam together. “You have an answer for everything.”

Ford held his hands together in the sign of a
T
right between Tasha's and Ward's bodies. “Okay, clearly you two have issues you need to work out. Probably has something to do with that kiss, I'm guessing.”

“Ford,” Ward gritted out.

“Work it all out now, and I'll finish the count.” Ford glanced at his watch. “We'll meet back here in twenty. We're coming on morning now and need to move.”

“Are you in charge now?” she asked, enunciating each word.

Ward had to smile at that one. He did love to see her stick up for herself and what she believed to be the right thing to do. “You'd be smart to take off instead of answering that.”

“Good plan.” Ford stepped back and motioned for Ward to follow. “May I see you for a second?”

Ward seriously considered saying no. Between the gunmen and Tasha, the sex and the heat, he had almost all he could handle before rushing in to kill a dictator type. But saying no would only cause Ford to say whatever he intended to say in front of Tasha. Which was likely not a great idea.

After walking a good fifteen feet into the tree-covered area, Ward stopped. From here he could see Tasha as she took over the lookout position. Seemed to be she mumbled to herself as well.

Ward turned to his friend, knowing what was coming next and ready to shrug it all off. “What's up?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ford put his hands on his hips. “Don't play dumb.”

Yeah, there were limits, and Ward decided to make that clear right now. “I'd watch it.”

“Drop that tone.” Ford stood there, fearless and clearly in a fighting mood, as usual. “You need to get your priorities straight. You can't save her, us, and the weapons and this assignment.”

“She doesn't strike me as a woman who needs to be saved all that much.” Ward could only get so pissed off, as Ford was doing his job. Doing exactly what Ward had trained him to do. That didn't mean he had to love it, and it certainly didn't mean he was going to let Ford take verbal shots at Tasha's competency. “Hell, she handled me just fine, and I'm pretty fucking hard to put down.”

Ford's head shot back. “Well, damn.”

“What?” Ward ran back over everything he said. Maybe he'd picked up some of her defensiveness and jumped to conclusions too quickly.

“You are into her.” Ford lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “I mean, really into her.”

Damn it
. Not a conversation Ward wanted to have . . . ever. “It was one kiss.”

Ford wore an expression that could only be described as
oh, really
. “So there wasn't more than what I saw?”

Yeah, no way was Ward answering that one. He'd been trained to lie, but Ford had been trained to ferret out the truth. It was a dangerous combination. “Say whatever you're going to say.”