Authors: Karen Anders
She trailed off.
“This?”
“Never mind. I’m going to bed.” She turned her back to him and grabbed the handle to open the stateroom door. She felt shame at the need to escape.
“No, wait a minute. You can’t leave it hanging like that.”
“Chris, I don’t want to rehash old news or old feelings. It’s been too long and we both know what we had ended when my brother died. That’s the end of the story.”
There was that palpable danger again. His hand slipped over hers on the doorknob. She could feel how close he was to her, her back tingling with his nearness, the heat of him. The situation between them was spiraling out of control. All the more reason to get the investigation back on track. She’d think everything through later, figure out what to do about it. When he was far, far away and not looking at her the way he had looked at her. Like he still wanted to consume her.
And, damn her memories, she knew what it would be like to let him.
“Is it? I think you still feel something, Sia.”
“No.” But her protest was low and breathless.
And if Chris himself wasn’t dangerous, then what she felt when he was this near surely was. She couldn’t fall for him, not for his body or his tarnished soul or his allure of the forbidden. There was no room in her life for this man. She couldn’t have her heart broken again; she was still trying to glue the pieces back together from the last time she had come apart.
But she couldn’t seem to remove her hand. It seemed a lifeline, an anchor that bolstered her as the memories, good and bad, flashed over her like an uncontrollable fire.
He grasped her hand and turned her toward him and she was powerless to resist.
Holding her breath, she counted the beats of her heart, her eyes on his, wondering why she didn’t take her own advice and let go. Walk away.
His hand squeezed hers and his eyes softened. “Sia,” he said, his voice low and textured like raw silk—rough and smooth at once, beckoning a woman to reach out and touch him, tempting her, luring her closer.
Her eyes met his and she was lost in the dark gray depths, so lost. It was as if the world and their problems melted in the heat of their eyes. She trembled with the longing she had buried for six years while she immersed herself in her work to forget. She didn’t know if it was her near-death experience, the medication, or her deep-seated longing for him. She swayed forward, into him.
His arms slipped around her, taking her mouth without preamble, his lips sizzling against hers. For the first time in Sia’s life, she found herself losing control when she very much needed to maintain control, needed to keep her distance. But she lost her train of thought as her good arm slipped up around his neck, her fingers tangling through his hair. He opened his mouth wider, taking more of her. She knew a single kiss wasn’t going to be enough.
His mouth was made for love, for kissing and making love, so soft and lush and captivating. She moved against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth angling over his and creating a brief moment of suction, and as quickly as that, heat shot through every single inch of her body. She felt her control slip, a quick jerk of it out from under her.
Sia was drowning. Drowning in desire and confusion—and desire won, every second, every heartbeat. She wasn’t proud of it. She should be made of sterner stuff.
She had to stop. But she couldn’t remember why. It was more than a kiss, more than any kiss he’d ever given her. And her mind focused on that one thought—shamelessly. The feel of him in her mouth, the taste of him, was intoxicating, compulsive. He set her on fire with his kiss, made her gasp, and every inch of her wanted more. It was wild. Wild and hot and utterly sexual in a way she’d thought she would never know except in her fantasies—but the reality of it, damn, the reality of it was so much more intense. The silkiness of his hair sliding through her fingers, the rough edge of his jaw beneath her palm, the strength of his arms wrapped around her. Fantasies were perfect because they were so safe. She was in control. Chris epitomized the loss of control. There was no safety in those dark eyes. The pure physical energy of him was a force to be reckoned with. He was powerful, dangerous and unpredictably seductive.
And she’d be a fool if she thought they could ever have what they’d lost. With a soft cry she pulled away.
“I can’t!” Her eyes filled. She hadn’t meant to cry, but her barriers were frayed and she was so tired.
“Why?”
Tears spilled out and ran down her cheeks. “You know why.” She reached for anything that would put distance between them. “Because of your error the Navy memorial has refused to honor my brother. He was a hero and he’s never going to get the recognition he deserved.”
Chris stood there, taking her words like physical blows. His dark eyes were haunted and filled with the guilt she knew he felt and she regretted her words. Bashing him wouldn’t change anything. Rafael was dead. Her parents were dead. Everyone she loved had been taken from her. If she could find any connection, anything at all to the fact it might have been murder, then she could exonerate her brother. And, in turn, Chris.
Standing there stoically and taking what she had to say right on the chin only made her realize how strong and brave he was. He didn’t flinch or get angry, he just stood there and let her vent. She didn’t know what to say. She could only feel, feel her heart break, feel her mind try to find a way to reconcile her emotions.
But she couldn’t move that immovable wall. She couldn’t seem to step forward, past it. It remained, lingering, holding her hostage. Nowhere to go.
Nowhere to run.
He reached out gently and wiped at the tears on her cheek with his thumb, then abruptly he pulled her hard against him. His hand disrupted her bun and sent her hair cascading down her back. He buried his face in her shoulder. “Do me a favor, Sia?”
Her voice, clogged with emotion, was muffled against his shoulder. “What?”
“Keep an open mind?”
She took a deep breath. “Keep an open mind?”
“Yes. Can you do that?” he asked, his voice a shade rougher.
“I’ll try,” she responded, her voice breaking. “I’ll try.”
He released her and walked away, his broad back disappearing down the passageway. For one moment, she let herself dream they had a chance, but she knew it was a lie. If he hadn’t been so stubborn and had just assigned someone else to this case, it would have been so much easier for both of them. Anger mixed in with the desire and longing.
Slipping into her quarters, she burst into tears, her throat tight, her chest heavy. In the darkness, she let herself cry for the loss, for the memories and for the love she once had for a man who could no longer comfort her.
Chapter 5
H
e hadn’t meant to watch her. He’d only come up to the flight deck to run off some of his disappointment and the desire that had caught him off guard last night, and Sia was already there. Of course, that kiss shouldn’t have had him tossing and turning, but it had.
He’d been craving the taste of her since last night. He’d convinced himself he must have exaggerated the hell out of what it had been like to kiss her, because a kiss was just a kiss, right? No way could one kiss be so special, so addicting, so enthralling…so intense.
As it turned out, he had forgotten the impact.
In a big way
.
Her lips had been so soft, and the way her breath hitched in the back of her throat, accompanied by that small, rough moan, immediately made him go rock-hard. It was all he could do not to plaster her back against the bulkhead and take and give until they were both sated.
She’d taken off the sling and was easily moving across the flight deck as if she hadn’t been almost murdered two days ago. Her dark, curly hair was caught up in a ponytail, streaming out behind her like ebony ribbons as her legs, encased in black Lycra, fueled her quick strides.
The bruise still stood starkly out on her soft, deep-golden skin, but it was beginning to fade somewhat.
“You going to run, sir, or lollygag?” a flight deck sailor said good-naturedly as he walked past. “Although it’s a very nice view.” He smiled and returned back inside the carrier, no doubt on some task that needed completing. The work on a ship as large as this one never ceased.
Chris stretched and took off. It wasn’t long before he caught up with her. “Are you sure you should be running? You almost got up close and personal with the ocean just a few days ago.”
“Yeah, swimming with the fishes isn’t my idea of fun.” She turned to look at him, not at all shy about what had happened last night. He remembered that was something he had always liked about Sia. Her straightforward manner and her lack of game playing had attracted him from the moment he’d met her. Her acerbic wit and quick comebacks made him admire her even more. It was as if six years had melted away.
They were quiet for a few paces and then Sia spoke. “I have a couple of things I need to confess.”
She glanced over at him, but there was no apology in her eyes. Instead he saw a flash of anger. He suspected she had no intention of sharing with him what she was up to, but somehow had changed her mind. He wondered why.
“Well, get the torpedoes in the water then.”
She laughed without mirth. “Nothing as explosive or dangerous as that. But I want you to know.”
“So it doesn’t come back to bite you on the butt?”
“Something like that. Even though you hijacked my case, I guess I can be magnanimous in sharing with you some of my suspicions. After all, we’re really on the same mission.”
“We are. We just have a lot of baggage to jettison.”
She chose not to respond to the personal tensions between them. He could feel it even now as they started another lap on the deck. He was sweating freely now, but his body was warming up to the exercise, his muscles loosening.
“After my run-in with Walker and his intriguing statements, I told my legalman to do some research on the deaths aboard the
McCloud
and other ships in the fleet to see if there are any correlations. It might give us a baseline and data to see if we have a consistent MO. It will also tell us if Walker was in the vicinity of any other
accidents
.”
“And the second confession?”
“I stalled you on the autopsy for Saunders.”
Chris stopped in midstride, floored. After a few steps forward, Sia jogged back. She took his hand and propelled him forward. “Don’t stop running. We haven’t finished enough to cool down yet.”
“I’m not about to cool down anytime soon,” he growled, anger beating in rhythm with his blood. “Why?”
She didn’t flinch under his steady, snapping gaze.
“I didn’t have a chance to look it over,” she said with a bit of miff in her tone. “I wanted to do so without you looking over my shoulder. I have a copy in my briefcase in my quarters. Billy gave it to me as soon as I met up with him yesterday in the legal office. I read through it after you dropped me off at my stateroom last night.”
She offered him no apology and he could understand why. Sia considered this her case and he was along for the ride. Regardless of what her commanding officer said, Sia wasn’t one to relinquish what she considered her responsibility. He understood this woman all too well. Okay, so she had more at stake than he did. She wanted to clear her brother’s name, get him memorialized and bring a killer to justice on a case she thought she may have botched. Chris was sure she thought she could nail all those tasks. When Sia was on a mission, everyone needed to watch out. He just hoped she wasn’t setting herself up for disappointment.
There was something else niggling at him and he didn’t want to fully acknowledge it lest he also set himself up for disappointment, but he couldn’t help it. She had him to gain.
What if she wanted him back? What if she could justify to herself the accident had been foul play? Would she then be able to forgive him? Would that be enough for him? He wasn’t sure.
And that eye-opener changed his entire outlook of his world to some new focus, as if he was looking through a kaleidoscope, trying to make sense of the chaotic colors with a view that was no longer his own to interpret—a potentially danger-filled view. It should have scared him more. He was feeling suddenly off-kilter, like the slowly pitching ship.
Sia’s speed diminished and finally slowed to a walk. She was giving him sidelong glances as if he would suddenly explode. He was partly angry and partly frustrated she hadn’t trusted him with this information. They walked in silence to the exit that would lead them from the flight deck back down into the belly of the ship.
They reached the point where they had to part ways and, without preamble, Chris grabbed Sia’s good elbow and steered her into a shadowed alcove. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“Me?” Her chin angled with challenge and her voice was brittle. “You wouldn’t take the easy way out. You never do, Chris.”
“I’m in command here, Sia. You will not withhold information from me again. Is that clear?”
She breathed a heated sigh and faced him defiantly. “Not now, Chris. Not here.”
“Yes, now. Yes, here. Not everything is on your terms!”
And just like that she exploded. “I answer to the Navy, not to NCIS, Chris.”
He didn’t miss the fact he’d said almost those same words to her. Throwing them in his face only made his ire grow. “I was there when your commanding officer gave you a direct order, so for all intents and purposes you do answer to NCIS. You answer to me.”
“What?” she scoffed.
“This isn’t a joke, Sia.” She shoved at him, but he didn’t let her push him away.
He knew she was tired, the kind of tired you didn’t get from one difficult day. But he had to be tough with Sia or he would lose ground with her. She was much too strong a personality to back down when she thought she was right. But he wasn’t perfect. He lost his grip a little, too. “You could severely damage your JAG career by being insubordinate.”
“Is that a threat?” she shouted right back at him. “Are you going to write me up, Chris? For doing my job! Right now I care more about the truth then I care about my JAG career.”