Under Fire (15 page)

She
couldn’t resist teasing him, since she didn’t dare touch him. Not out here, and not before she figured out if he was affair material.

“Lose your clothes, Major?” She stood beside her black Lab, leash in hand. Her grimy cargo pants and body-hugging T-shirt stuck to her after a long day working.

Her
dog
started
sniffing
the
edge
of
Liam’s towel suspiciously, all seventy pounds of pooch tensed, hackles rising along the canine’s spine.

“It’s not my clothes I’m worried about right now, ma’am. Think you can get your dog to let go of my towel?”

“Disco?” She thumbed the clicker in her hand and her dog dropped to his haunches. “Good boy.”

“Thanks.”

“And Major?”

“Yeah?”

“You may want to invest in a larger towel.” She clapped him on his bare shoulder matter-of-factly before striding past, toward the cabana next door.

His
eyes
lingered
on
her
the
whole
way. She could feel his stare, feel how still he stood rooted to the spot for a solid five seconds, watching her walk away. Her ponytail, gathered high and haphazardly on top of her head, swished with each step, teasing her shoulders like a phantom touch. The way she imagined Liam’s touch would be if she indulged…

Groaning, Rachel hugged the pillow tighter against an ache that had started growing six months ago. She’d convinced herself he was the kind of guy she could have an affair with, some uncomplicated, easy sex. Except then he’d shocked the hell out of her by saying he was falling in love with her.

As if she believed that. His track record with women didn’t bode well for longevity. Which should have been a plus, but there was something so… intense and real in his eyes, in spite of his jokes and grins. The things he’d shared with her tonight, the intensity and hurt in his voice, had made her question her preconceived notions about how he charmed his way through chicks. Even now, she could feel the tension rippling through him as she sat pressed to his side. He confused her and aroused her and tugged at her heart all at once.

She knew one thing for sure. Nothing with Liam would ever be uncomplicated or easy.

***

Scanning the street, Liam approached Sylvia on the swing with a low whistle to alert her he was approaching. Wouldn’t want her to shoot him, even though she was the one who’d texted him to come outside.

Leaving Rachel made him nervous, but he had her bedroom window in sight. And honestly, he needed a breather from the way Rachel had of prying out the deep-down crap from his past. He’d had enough spilling his guts for one night. Right now, he welcomed the fresh air and the chance to talk to Sylvia without a legion of agents crawling around the office. It was all about work now, and in that realm, he felt comfortable, in control.

“Just me,” he announced. “Mind if I join you?”

An innocuous enough statement for anyone who might be listening.

Sylvia waved to the seat beside her, cigarette tip swirling a red glow. “Please.”

The swing creaked as he sat. “Thought you were going to quit smoking.”

“I have. Used the patch for six months. Have kept to it for four months since. For the most part. I only indulge myself on
special
missions like this.” She drew in on the cigarette and exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “Stress reliever.”

“How often do those sorts of occasion roll around, to snatch a smoke?”

“Not as often as my nicotine craving would like.” She turned to him with a smile, cigarette between two manicured fingers. “But let’s not talk about that. You’re ruining a perfectly good and unhealthy nicotine moment.”

She drew in hard again on the filter, the red tip glowing brighter. Exhaling slowly, she tipped her head back, blowing smoke skyward—and politely away from him. She flicked the extra ash into an ashtray in her lap next to her service pistol.

“Aren’t you a little overqualified for this kind of guard duty?”

She laughed softly. “Are you insinuating I’ve gone soft from too long out of the field?”

“Doubtful. You could probably kill me five different ways just using your pinkies.”

“Only four.”

He laughed along with her this time. “Why did we never hook up long term?”

“I’m against marriage. You’re against one-night stands. We reached an impasse by dessert on our first date. And then there was that lack of zing between us.”

“You’re a sexy woman. You know that, right?”

“So I’ve been told. And you’re a hot man. But you’re also a dim one when it comes to picking women. So I’ll stick with handling my own relationships, thank you very much.”

Great. He leaned back, elbows hooked on the back of the swing. “Appreciate the news flash about my skills in the love life department. But I gotta tell ya, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist—or professional profiler—to figure that out.”

“Then quit hitting on me to self-destruct what you’re feeling for Rachel Flores.” She pulled a last drag off the cigarette before stubbing it out in her ashtray.

“Now I remember why I never date anyone with a psychology degree.”

Again, he fell into easy laughter with her—and stopped short as a car started two doors down. He tensed in sync with Sylvia. His hand went to his Desert Eagle strapped to his waist as her hand covered her 9 mm.

Setting aside the ashtray, she stood abruptly. “Walk with me.”

“What?”

Her eyes pinned him. “Please, walk with me. Just to the end of the driveway.”

He eased to his feet, looking from Rachel’s window to Sylvia, then back again.

“Keep smiling and simply listen,” she said quietly, her head dipped as she walked toward the end of the driveway, her high heels clicking along the concrete. “I have thirty-eight seconds to talk before the replacement guard pulls in two doors down and wonders why I’ve taken you out of range of the microphones.”

What the hell? “I’m listening.”

She stopped at the curb and hooked her hands on his shoulders as if the two of them were hanging out romantically in the moonlight. As if she believed they might actually be watched. “Get Rachel Flores and get the hell out of here. Trust no one,” she hissed. “Not even the people working with me. If you can get to Brandon Harris, bonus points for you. Hide him. Use all the evasion training you’ve ever picked up along the way in this crazy-ass life we lead and disappear.
And
for
God’s sake don’t tell anyone, not even me, where you are.
”

Careful to maintain her cover of acting like a couple, he palmed her waist, finding her muscles as tensed as his own. “How long am I supposed to drop out of sight and how do I know to trust you?”

“Stay out of the way until the international summit is complete. I’ll take care of filing leave papers on your behalf. Your team will bring in a replacement leader for your little dog and pony show. No one will suspect a thing. And as for trusting me, you already know. Because if I wanted you dead”—she waggled her pinky against his jugular—“well, you’d already be cold.”

And he believed her, absolutely. He’d looked in her eyes, using his own training to search for lies and tells. She was telling the truth about his need to leave this house, to hide Rachel and find Brandon Harris. She’d been honest about her intention to set up a cover for him when he left.

As for the rest of it… Was it the right thing to stay gone until the summit? That, he didn’t know, and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving his team hanging out here alone, twisting in the wind.

He slid his hands up her sides and into her hair, playing right along with her scenario of a couple stealing time alone. “Just one more thing.”

“You have ten seconds.” She nodded curtly. “So talk fast.”

“Sylvia, I’m sorry.” Because he had two fingers poised and ready for a good old-fashioned nerve pinch to the neck to knock her out cold for at least ten or fifteen minutes. He hoped. With luck, she would play it out longer before calling it in, since she wanted them off base ASAP.

Sylvia collapsed unconscious into his arms without the least hint of trouble.

Scooping her up, he stayed right on track with the whole romantic-couple gig. But moving fast, which also worked if a guy was really intent on getting the woman inside and he needed to do that before the replacement guard showed.

If she was completely legit, it was best she didn’t know the details of how he would clear out with Rachel. And if Sylvia was following her own agenda? Then he intended to make sure she knew as little as possible about how he left this place.

Honest or not? He would figure that part out later.

Either way, right now, he had to wake up Rachel and disappear.

The earthquake rumbled again, rattling Rachel’s bed.

She pushed through the layers of fog, desperate to wake up and make her way to safety before the roof caved in on top of her. She needed to get underneath the furniture or to a doorway.

Except none of that made sense, because she wasn’t in the Bahamas anymore. She was in Florida now, rebuilding her life and her nerves.

But she could swear Liam was with her, the scent of him, the intense energy he brought into a room. Something that hadn’t changed in six months apart, something that haunted her dreams.

And oh God, how her dream felt so erotically real right now. She was in bed. With Liam. His whipcord-lean body over hers. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck, anticipate the feel of his mouth on her skin.

Her legs thrashed at the covers, tangling in the sheets, her long T-shirt riding up until the canvas texture of his uniform abraded sensually against her bare legs. Want rippled through her until she arched her back to press more firmly against him. What harm was there in indulging herself in a dream?

“Rachel.” His raspy voice stoked her fantasies.

The man could talk her to an orgasm with the husky suggestiveness in the way his tongue caressed her name.

“Liam,” she moaned, and oh God, she really had spoken out in her sleep. The veil between sleep and reality became translucent, the two worlds blending. Fear gripped her that if she woke up, she could lose this chance to have Liam, even if only in a dream realm.

She twisted her fingers in the sheets to hold on to the nighttime delusion a while longer, long enough to assuage the ache between her thighs. Completion hovered so close, until the need to finish clawed through her painfully. It had been so long since she’d wanted someone this much.

Since losing Caden, infrequent sex had merely been about release. This craving for Liam went so much deeper… and just the word
deeper
made her want more. Now. Fantasies were private and unlimited…

She threaded her fingers through his hair, testing the texture. Damp? From rain? Details intruded on her dream state until—

“Rachel,” he hissed in her ear, his hand clamping over her mouth. “Shhh. Wake up and stay quiet. And for God’s sake, quit moving like that.”

Okay, domination was
not
her idea of sexy.

Her eyes snapped open. He loomed over her, tall and lean, his tensed body covering her. His leg pressed between her legs, and it was all she could do in her half-awake state not to wriggle against the sweet pressure that should have faded in light of whatever was going on.

A low moan of pleasure slipped from her lips anyway.

His hand stayed clamped over her mouth, gently, but unmistakable in its message. His chest pumped against her with ragged breaths. His head dipped toward her. She swallowed hard, and God help her, if he kissed her right now, she wouldn’t stop him, and to hell with anything else. Her body arched into him before she could think, much less stop herself.

His voice caressed her ear. “Rachel, honey, you’re killing me here.”

The hard length of him pressed into her hip, letting her know he hurt every bit as much as she did from this unconsummated attraction. As much as she wanted to lose herself in the moment, in the answering heat radiating off him, reason began to filter through.

“Liam?” she whispered. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“You have to trust me and stay really quiet,” he answered softly. “We need to leave without alerting anyone. Now. Get dressed fast and follow me out.”

Passion turned to a frightening burn. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

She nodded under his hand and he rolled off her fluidly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his broad back to her.