Wild Card (31 page)

Sabella knew it. And she hated the lies, though she was trying to understand them.

"You didn't tell Sienna about the attack," Kira mentioned then. "Why not?"

Sabella paused at the back of her car and turned to meet Kira's gaze. "Because I don't know

how widespread that knowledge is. If no one knows he's wounded, then they won't think he's

weak and come after him again. They reported the attempted hit-and-run on Toby, but Sienna

asked about that this morning. There was no sense in saying more about it."

Kira's too perceptive gaze met her own then.

"How do you feel about a few hours and a few glasses of wine?" Kira finally asked. "Ian's

going to be out of the house until morning, and like for Sienna, the house gets too quiet

sometimes."

Sabella doubted that. She stared around the parking lot for a long moment before turning back

to the other woman.

"Why don't you come to my house instead." She turned back to her. "My husband had a nice

stock of wine in the basement. We could uncork one of his favorites." Wouldn't that horrify

Noah? "Get drunk and trash men."

"You're still angry with him?" Kira asked, a curious glint in her eye.

"I can always find a reason to be angry at a man that lies to me," she informed the other

woman. "It's in the rule book. We're allowed."

Kira's lips quirked as she nodded. "I'll follow you," she decided. "You know, Sabella, I have a feeling you're a hell of a lot more perceptive than Ian or Noah wants to admit to. That could

make our men uncomfortable."

"Serves them right." Sabella laughed, though she gritted her teeth at the thought moments later.

Finding out exactly why those two men were lying their asses off to her was her objective. And

if she didn't find out on her own soon, then she was going to be bashing one dominating, overly

possessive, lying Navy SEAL. And she was going to do it with the flat side of her black iron

skillet.

"We have trouble." Nik spoke as he eased up to Noah where he stood in the wide entrance to

the garage, staring up at the house on the hill, his eyes narrowed, jaw bunched.

Kira Richards had driven in behind Sabella an hour before. The two women had carried several

grocery bags into the house and he hadn't seen them since.

Sabella hadn't come down to collect the deposit for the bank. She had called and told Rory to

take care of it for her, and she hadn't even asked to talk to him.

"What's the trouble?" Noah asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the house, willing Sabella to step outside.

"Micah reported in a few minutes ago. He hung around town after she left with Ian's wife. He

saw Mike Conrad go into the spa, pull their masseuses and techs aside. From what Micah saw

from out back, the man was questioning them pretty heavily."

Noah flicked him a look. "He didn't find out anything."

Sabella didn't know enough to be a danger to them, but it wouldn't matter what she knew, she

would have never discussed it.

"Probably not," Nik agreed. "Point is, he's suspicious. It could come back on her." He nodded to the house, indicating Sabella.

"Then he'll die." Noah turned back to Nik, icy resolve burning inside him as he met the

Russian's gaze.

Nik nodded slowly, his pale face as cold, as bleak as death. And Noah knew he was

remembering his own lost family and the lengths he would have gone to protect them.

"I'll be at your back," Nik told him then. "No doubt, Noah Blake, I'll be at your back."

Nik turned and reentered the garage, and Noah stayed in place, and watched the house.

Wondered what the hell Sabella and Kira were up to.

"Toby, Nik will drive you home," he yelled back to the office. "Get ready to roll."

He looked at the clock. It was nearly seven, almost closing time. And Sabella had been to the

spa. For hours. He remembered those all-day spa trips. And he damned sure remembered what

awaited him that night when he crawled between the loveliest pair of thighs he had ever

known.

Bare, slick flesh. Sheened with her juices. Luscious, tasty, a hint of almond oil on her flesh,

nothing between him and tasting her.

"Belle thought we should start keeping the convenience store and gas pumps open longer now

that we have more help," Rory announced as he stepped out to Noah minutes later. "You

working tonight's shift?" Smug amusement filled his brother's tone.

"Only if you're dead." He turned back to Rory slowly. "You look like you're breathing to me.

Should we see about giving you an excuse not to work it? But death is the only one that will

work."

Rory grimaced as he shoved his hands in his dark gray work pants and glared back at Noah. "I

had a date."

"So do I," Noah informed him.

"My date is more important," Rory growled. "I've been after this woman for months. Pretty

little phys-ed major." He sighed. "She's built, Noah."

"She's doomed to disappointment tonight. Unless you want to go ahead and close on time."

Rory glanced up at the house. "Do you think she'll notice?"

"Probably."

Rory turned back to him, narrowed his eyes, and got that calculating look on his face that Noah

knew well.

"I'll close up early, and you keep her busy so she doesn't figure it out," he suggested. "And when Sabella finally figures out what a prick you are, I'll take up for you."

"You close up early, you face Sabella'
s
wrath. And if she ever figures out what a prick I am, then we're all in a hell of a lot more trouble than you ever imagined," Noah told him, his voice

low, intent. "So you better pray that one doesn't happen."

He left it at that before striding through the garage, into the office, to the door of the apartment.

Locking it behind him, he took the stairs two at a time until he was at the second door. There,

he pulled the narrow sliver of the toothpick he had pushed into the lock free and stepped slowly

inside.

He could see the glimmer of Scotch tape on the door across the room that led to the deck. It

was still in place. The door hadn't been opened.

He was still cautious as he moved through the apartment though and locked the heavy door to

the bathroom behind him. Sabella had been to the spa, and he couldn't wait, he was damned

near shaking in anticipation of what could be awaiting him.

A bottle of wine sat empty on the bar and Sabella stared morosely at her half-empty glass.

Unfortunately, she had drunk most of it.

"I'm turning into a lush," she said as she lifted her gaze and glanced at the other woman.

Kira was relaxed into the high-backed bar stool, one slim leg crossed over the opposite knee

and staring at her own glass.

"It's damned good wine. Good thing your husband isn't here. He might have spanked you

otherwise. It's very old wine, I do believe."

Sabella grinned at the thought of it, and at Kira's particular phrasing. Her deliberate phrasing.

This wasn't a woman who messed up. She was too much like her husband. Too deliberate, too

comfortable in her own skin, in who and what she was.

"Lucky, ain't I?"

Kira's brow arched. "You must be getting along very well with your mechanic then."

"I haven't thrown a glass at him yet." Sabella sat back in her bar stool and regarded the other woman curiously. "My husband and I were barely married a year before I threw a glass at him.

He was a damned good man, but I believe he might have thought I needed 'guidance.'"

"Guidance in what?"

Amusement glittered in her gray eyes. Sabella sipped her wine and watched the other woman.

There was an air of confidence, of sheer daring, in Kira Richards that Sabella envied but

wouldn't wish for herself.

"In being a SEAL wife." Sabella's lips quirked in a grin. "He could come home busted up,

wounded, bruised to hell and back, and just say 'bad mission,' and I wasn't to worry. I wasn't to

check the bruises or kiss his boo-boos. That was the reason I threw the first glass. I thought it

would help. He can let the bad guys beat up on him, but I can't worry about him?" She arched

her brows. "Fine, he could carry bruises from me as well."

"You just said 'can,' not 'could,'" Kira stated.

It reminded her of the way Nathan used to watch the world, and still did in some cases. With

knowing suspicion.

"Slip of the tongue." Sabella shrugged, and they both knew better.

"So, your mechanic doesn't attempt to guide you?" Kira asked her.

"I've matured." Sabella sipped at her wine. "I don't throw glasses anymore."

Kira's brow arched. "What do you do now?"

Sabella stared down at her wine before lifting the glass and finishing it. "I do as I please," she finally answered. "I won't build my life around a man again." She met Kira's gaze once more.

"And I don't accept lies any longer, Kira. From anyone."

"I haven't lied to you," Kira pointed out with a smile.

Sabella nodded. "And for that, you got to share my husband's prize wine with me." She

grinned. "I'll imagine it's him spanking me if my mechanic ever decides to get around to getting

that brave."

Not a flicker betrayed the howl of laughter Kira was holding inside. Damn, Sabella had grown

on her over the years, but in the past weeks, she had seen the true measure of strength this

woman had.

"Ian retired from the SEALs just before Jordan did, didn't he?" Sabella asked.

"He did," Kira affirmed. "He'd had enough."

"So what's he doing now?"

"Not a lot." Kira smiled. "He consults every now and then with a few places. Security matters."

She waved her hand as if she didn't have a clue.

Bullshit. Sabella inhaled slowly. Half-truths, but enough to understand Ian and Noah were

working together. This woman was working with her husband and with Noah. It was why she

had befriended Sienna and it was the reason she had made certain she met Sabella.

"Kira." She leaned forward. "If you knew anything about what Noah is doing here, or any

information about my husband's last mission or specifically the recovery of his body, would

you tell me?"

Kira eyed her thoughtfully for long moments before her lips pursed and she said softly, "No. I

wouldn't be able to tell you that." Then she leaned forward as well. "I like you, Sabella. You're a very dear friend of mine, and because you are, between you and me, I'll tell you one thing."

Sabella leaned back, knowing she wasn't going to get what she wanted, but listening anyway.

"You're intuitive. You told me once your dad was a detective, and he taught you to use those

instincts."

"He did." Her father had been her life until his and her mother's death. He had taught her so

much.

"Then trust those instincts. I believe your father loved you. He taught you how to protect

yourself, how to watch people and how to know them. Believe in what your father taught you.

In what your husband taught you."

"I think I need coffee rather more than more wine." Sabella set the glass aside and she let it go.

She'd found out what she needed to know. She wouldn't push this friendship further. She and

Kira knew the truth, they couldn't speak it, neither of them could acknowledge it. But they

knew. "How long are you and Ian going to be in town this time?"

"I'm not certain." Kira put her glass on the counter as Sabella moved to the coffee maker. "Ian hasn't set a time limit, and we're still rather enjoying our time together."

Sabella nodded. In other words, however long the mission here took, she guessed.

She wondered what Noah would do when the mission here was over. Would he tell his wife,

then, who he was and what had happened to him?

"Are you having problems stepping into a relationship with Noah?" Kira asked her suddenly. "I would imagine it's hard. Sienna mentioned you've not been involved with anyone since your

husband died."

"Just as she suggested it was a rebound relationship?" Sabella snorted. "No. I'm not having any problems at all."

She tucked her hands into the back pocket of her short jeans skirt and moved to the wide

kitchen window.

She could see the back of the garage. Noah's Harley sat close to the cement building, gleaming

black in the waning summer sunlight.

"You and Sienna have been friends for a long time," Kira stated. "Still, I'd have hesitated to say that to a friend of mine."

Sabella shrugged. "Sienna can be blunt sometimes, especially when she and Rick are going

head to head over something."

"They don't get along well then?"

Sabella turned back to her. "They get along fine. She just hates his schedule. And Rick is pretty

intense about his job."

"Most men that work in a protective capacity are rather intense." Kira nodded. "Ian mentioned that Admiral Holloran said you had called Rissa Clay a few days ago. That was very kind of

you."

Sabella frowned and pushed her fingers through her hair worriedly.

Her husband's last mission had been the rescue of Rissa Clay and two other young girls. She

hadn't called to ask Rissa anything, she remembered very little of that night, Sabella had been

told. But she called occasionally, because she knew Rissa. Cared for her. Thankfully the other

girl seemed to be doing well.

"I knew Rissa before she was kidnapped," she said softly. "Nathan and I sometimes flew into Washington to visit with his uncle Jordan. Rissa was around a lot. She lived close by with her

father so we were invited to several of the parties. She was a sweet girl."