Targeted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 2) (16 page)

Her mouth curved in amusement. “Tuck and Celida needed some time alone together, so I made myself scarce.” Her lips twitched, drawing attention to the sheer red gloss she wore. He could fantasize for a long time about the things he’d like to see that full red mouth doing to him. “I can’t believe I snuck up on a SEAL and scared the crap out of him.”

He snorted. “Not. You just caught me off guard.”

“Whatever, I saw you jump.”

“I was
startled
,” he clarified. “And only because I’m out here in my yard all relaxed with my guard down.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” She held out the beer and raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you want it?”

He was worried he wanted
it
a helluva lot more than he should, and he wasn’t thinking about the beer. “Thanks,” he said, reaching out a hand to take it from her, unable to stop his gaze from roaming over the length of her.

The woman was walking sex. She was wearing a black dress with a shredded-looking hem, the long pieces coming to below her knees but exposing little peeks of bare, toned thigh whenever the breeze moved them. The top of the dress was snug and low cut enough to expose the tops of her firm breasts, which peeked over the bodice or whatever the hell that part was called. She had her hair wound up into a knot at the top of her head but some shorter pieces had fallen out, framing her face and neck, and her makeup was way more subdued today, enhancing her natural beauty rather than covering it.

He’d never seen her look hotter.

Not liking the direction of his thoughts or his inability to control them, he took a sip of the beer to give himself a few seconds to think. “So…you’re staying here tonight?” The thought actually made his pulse thud in his throat.

He’d never admit it, but for some reason Zoe intimidated the shit out of him. Not that he’d ever let her or anyone else know that, of course. She was just so different from any other woman he’d ever met, and she had a disconcerting way of making him feel off balance. That she did so naturally and without any seeming effort on her part made it all worse.

Her eyes tracked the movement of his arm as he lowered the beer, trailing from there across his chest and shoulders before moving back to his face. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, the unconscious move telling him she liked what she saw. He flexed the muscles in his arm as he raised the bottle to his lips to take another sip, and yep, her gaze shot to his arm and stayed there until he lowered the bottle again.

Hell, he liked her reaction a lot more than he should, too.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” she said, dragging her gaze back to his and folding her arms across her chest. Which only pushed her breasts up farther.

Tuck’s cousin, asshole, remember?
He looked back up at her face to see whether the move was intentional, and saw nothing to make him think she was playing with him.

Not that he trusted his instincts about someone’s character anymore, especially women. His ex’s manipulation had taught him how lousy his intuition had been about that.

Still, there was something honest and open and guileless about Zoe—at least, if she was faking it, he sure couldn’t tell—and a deeply buried part of him wanted it to be real.

“’Course I don’t mind,” he answered, not wanting her to think he cared one way or another. He’d learned a lot from his clusterfuck of a marriage, including the all important lesson to protect himself more, even when people didn’t seem like a threat at first. He was harder now, way more cynical, and he wasn’t sure it was always a bad thing. Tuck said he was bitter, but Clay disagreed.

What he was, was stronger. Wiser. Battle tested and not about to be fooled like that again, by anyone.

“You gonna crash in Tuck’s room then?” he asked her.

She tucked a wisp of fire hydrant-red hair behind one ear. “Maybe, but I was thinking of just sleeping on the couch. Feel like watching a movie with me?”

A movie? He’d been up since oh-four-hundred, it was past midnight, and he had to be up again at five. For some reason, staying up a while longer with her seemed like a much more appealing idea than sleeping right now.

“Sure.” He set the beer down on the edge of the tub. “Better turn away now or I might embarrass you.”

Her golden eyes widened a fraction as his meaning set in. “Oh.” She turned around but didn’t walk away, which he found interesting.

Reaching down to snag the towel he’d put on the step leading up to the tub, he stood and climbed out. Water sluiced down his legs in rivulets as he wrapped the thick terrycloth around his waist. He was half hard already and it wouldn’t take much to put him at full mast. While part of him wanted her to notice, he didn’t want her to think she could lead him around by his dick, either.

“You decent?” she asked a moment later.

“Yeah.”

She turned around, seemed to falter a moment at the sight of him standing there in nothing but a towel, her attention zeroing in on his naked torso. He’d knotted the front so the folds gave him extra volume to hide his semi-erection, but he wasn’t sure if he was successful. And at the way her eyes moved over him, sliding languidly over him from neck to feet and back, a slight flush on her cheekbones, he decided he didn’t much care if she could tell he was aroused.

“What movie do you have in mind?”

Her eyes flashed up to his, blinked once, then she seemed to shake herself. “Oh. Nothing too heavy. But whatever you want, I’m easy.”

No, she wasn’t, and that was one of the things he liked most about her. For all her in-your-face attitude and her Goth persona, both a statement of confidence and a metaphorical middle finger to the rest of the world, from what he knew of Zoe she was very selective about her hookups with guys. That made her all the more appealing, which added yet another complication to his interest in her. It’d been over four months since he’d last had sex, with some girl he’d picked up at a bar. He’d taken her home, fucked her hard and fast, then left. He didn’t even remember her name and could barely remember what she’d looked like.

Zoe was here and she was clearly interested. If he was a dick, he’d seduce her tonight while they were here alone. Take her to his bed, fuck her while Tuck was away and get her out of his system.

But even he knew that was way out of line and that Zoe deserved better.

Huh
, he thought with a frown. Guess that meant he wasn’t as much of a dick as he’d thought.

Besides, she was Tuck’s cousin, so that would be just messy and awkward, and he didn’t want to do anything that would make her feel cheap and used later on. Plus, since sex was all he had to offer her right now and he wasn’t even sure why she got to him so much, they were both better off keeping things platonic. Too bad, though. He had the feeling Zoe would be just as direct and edgy in bed as she was in person. It’d been way too long since he’d relaxed his guard enough to have fun.

“We’ll find something. Come on.” He led the way up the wooden steps to the deck, crossed it to the sliding glass doors. He paused to let her go inside first.

She flicked a quick look down the length of his body and back up as though she couldn’t help herself, then smiled at him, her golden eyes luminous in the light coming from the kitchen. He knew he was big, knew his own strength and that his size intimidated some women but when she looked up at him like that and smiled as though she truly enjoyed being in his company, he felt fucking bulletproof.

As he followed her inside it occurred to him for the first time just how big a fucking shame it was that he no longer knew how to let a woman in.

****

Celida dreamed she was in a garden surrounded by a swarm of bees. They flew around her gathering pollen and nectar from the roses and other flowers, their buzzing getting louder and louder in her consciousness.

It was starting to irritate the shit out of her because it was so peaceful and warm out here. She’d been feeling more relaxed than she had in forever until the damn buzzing had suddenly increased in volume.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder, startling her. “Celida. Hey.”

She frowned, reached a hand back to bat them away and grumbled something, not appreciating the interruption.

“Sunshine, wake up.”

Her eyes opened. It took a moment for the dream to recede, to realize that she was in her bed, naked, and that Tuck was sitting on the edge of it, his warm hand curved around her shoulder. He was already dressed, wearing cargo pants and the T-shirt he’d been wearing last night.

Oh, God, last night…

Blinking, she pulled the sheet up to modestly cover her breasts and pushed up onto one elbow as warmth stole through her. “What?” she murmured. Jeez, she’d been deep under. It was hard to shake the cobwebs out of her brain.

He withdrew his hand, eased back into a sitting position and brought his other hand around. Her phone was in it. “Travers just called.”

She doubted it was to check on her. “What time is it?” she asked as she took it.

“Just after six.”

She’d slept through for a solid six hours? Holy awesome.

Just as she began to check her voicemail, a text came through from him saying it was urgent and to call him. She sat up, sheet still wrapped around her, and tried not to notice how Tuck’s gaze went all hot and focused as he stared at the bare skin exposed above the sheet. She wasn’t shy about her body, but after the way she’d been last night the idea of being naked while he was dressed made her feel too vulnerable. “Sorry, I was sleeping,” she said when Travers answered. “What’s up?”

“You better get into the D.C. office, now.”

Her fingers curled harder around the sheet at his grim tone. “Why?”

A hard, frustrated sigh filled the line. “We just received a manifesto via e-mail.”

“From the bomber?” All traces of sleep were gone now, vaporized by the surge of pure adrenaline that shot through her. She met Tuck’s gaze, found him no longer staring at the sheet as though he could see through it, but watching her face, his shoulders tense.

“Looks like. How soon can you be here?”

She dragged a hand through her hair. “Half an hour.”

“Hurry.”

“I will.” She set the phone on her nightstand and got up, hesitating for a split second with the sheet clutched against her breasts, then decided the hell with it and let it drop.

“Bomber sent in a manifesto,” she explained to Tuck on her way to the bathroom and it was an indication of how serious the situation was that he merely gave her naked body a cursory glance as she passed by. The bathroom was steamy and damp, the shower walls wet so she knew Tuck must have already showered. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t woken up, she was normally a really light sleeper.

“I’ll put some coffee on,” he said as she started the shower, and the thought of hot, fresh coffee made her love him even more.

She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready to tell him though.

After showering she dressed in black slacks, a black T-shirt, and slipped on her shoulder holster before pulling an FBI-issue windbreaker over her head. She brushed her teeth, blew her hair semi-dry and put it up in a no-nonsense ponytail, ran a mascara wand over her lashes and slicked some gloss on her lips before leaving the bathroom.

Tuck was in the kitchen, already holding a steaming travel mug for her when she came in. “Call me later if you can,” he said as he handed it to her, the muscles in his roped arms shifting with the movement. “I’m on shift today, will probably be working late if we’re put on standby.”

The likelihood of another attack seemed high. She nodded. “I will.” He was so incredibly good looking. He’d not only reduced her to a puddle of bliss last night, he’d soothed her worst fears later in bed, and now he’d made her coffee. Damn, the man made it impossible not to love him. “Thanks for this,” she said, nodding at the travel mug. This felt nice. Having him at her place, making himself at home, doing thoughtful little things that couples did for each other. She could easily get used to having him around. “And for last night.”

“You’re welcome. And I was gonna thank
you
for last night.” His eyes were warm, but they held a predatory gleam as he gazed down at her.

She loved that look in his eyes. “We’re pretty amazing together.”

At that he gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her heart thump and her belly flutter. “Yeah, we are.” He raised a hand, cupped the side of her face as he leaned down to kiss her, his thumb stroking over the scar on her cheek in a gentle caress. “Take care of yourself out there, sunshine.”

His concern was like a warm blanket, chasing away the last hint of unease that she didn’t have what it took on the job. “I will. You too.” She pulled him down for a slightly longer kiss, letting her mouth meld with his before easing away.

God, she loved this man, didn’t see how she could be happy without him in her life from now on. Not after the way they’d given themselves to one another last night. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

They climbed into their vehicles at the same time, and she couldn’t help but imagine them doing this every workday from now on. At the entrance to her townhouse complex, they turned in separate directions. She waved, caught his answering one in her rearview mirror as she sped down the street. If not for the ongoing investigation and the increased threat of another attack, she’d be downright giddy right now, thinking about Tuck and the way the last few hours had played out.

Traffic was light enough at this time of the morning that she made it to the office with three minutes to spare from the timeline she’d given Travers. He was in the main conference room reading through a printed document with a team of other agents.

His normally perfectly-styled graying hair was all mussed as though he’d either been dragging his fingers through it or had been woken from a dead sleep and had rushed in without so much as running a comb through it. Or both.

When he looked up at her, his pale blue, bloodshot eyes held a look she’d never seen from him before. Alarm.

Her stomach fisted in reaction. “Is this it?” she asked as she stepped up to the table to look at the document. It was thicker than she’d expected.