Fatal Truth: Shadow Force International (40 page)

Parker had walked away from National Intelligence and taken a position with a private company, working on a new brain study on memory function. After being cleared of any wrong doing by the attorney general and turning state’s evidence on the president, she’d presented her findings to a couple of scientists in the field and received an invitation to join an elite group doing groundbreaking work with Alzheimer’s patients.

“Speaking of jobs,” Savanna said. “I really do need to get to mine.”

They hugged and Parker left. Savanna made her way to the hair and makeup station, wondering once more if Trace had gone back to the SEAL teams. Tonight’s show was about him and the heroic work he’d done in service to his country before she’d taken it all away. There would be no photos, no information about his whereabouts or his current status—which she didn’t know anyway—but she had to right the wrong she’d done to him. She had to fess up to not doing her homework and wrongfully accusing him of being a traitor nearly two years ago.

There would be no blame placed on Parker or even Linc Norman. Savanna would never
not
do her own investigations again, and the American public needed to know Trace’s public humiliation and downfall was her fault, not anyone else’s.

She just hoped that wherever he was, he was watching.

A
S A
SEAL
,
he’d been trained to control his emotions, not let anything or anyone get to him.

Savanna Jeffries Bunkett, all one-hundred-and-twenty-pounds of her, had taken that away from him.

Nineteen months and two days after she’d destroyed his career, his reputation, and his future, she went on national television once more to clear his name and tell the world he was a hero.

Sitting on the couch in her new apartment, he turned off the TV and let the shadows engulf him. Her show had been over an hour ago, but he’d been too stunned to move afterwards.

He was neither hero nor traitor. He was a man with a damaged past and an empty future.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have direction. There were no longer bars holding him hostage, but the idea that he had no clear path in front of him, no orders to follow, no bad guys to hunt down, no one to protect or keep secure, was worse than any prison cell.

I need Savanna
.

But she didn’t need him. The idea haunted him, had driven him away for a while. Yet, here he was, back in DC needing to see her so badly his chest ached. She kept his demons at bay, made him feel normal.

So be it if she didn’t need him the same way. He could live with that fact. She had her career, rising again, and she loved her life. It was evident in everything she did. He hoped by being close to her, in whatever capacity she would let him, some of that love of life would rub off on him.

Because even if he didn’t love his life, he loved her.

“Incoming,” Rory said in his ear comm. “She’s in front of the building.”

Trace touched the unit. “Thanks, man.”

He was back working for Shadow Force International for now. No more security work—he was in the deep, dark stuff now. Petit had already talked to him about a new assignment, this one in Panama City involving a drug gang and a kidnapping.

Dangerous work. Work that would take him away from Savanna for a time. He needed to see her reaction when he told her. See if she would be upset he was leaving again so soon, or maybe filled with relief.

His sensitive ears picked up the sound of the elevator doors, heard her crossing the hallway to the penthouse.

She keyed in her security code, came through the door, then closed it, backing up against it and closing her eyes.

She looked exhausted. Drained. She had a pink colored drink in one hand, her laptop bag in the other. Still leaning against the door with her eyes closed, she kicked off one high-heeled shoe and then the other. Her toes curled and she let go of the computer bag, setting it on the floor. She made a little sound in the back of her throat. “Much better.”

He couldn’t stop staring at her. That sound, that look of utter relief and joy, made his heart ping around in his chest like a pinball. How many times had he made her look like that in bed? How many times had he heard that sound when he touched her in certain spots?

Opening her eyes, she pushed off the door and fumbled with the buttons on her coat.

“Nice show tonight,” he said from the shadows. “You almost made me sound like a decent human being.”

She startled, the coat still half on, and nearly dropped the smoothie. “You! What are you doing here?” One hand went to her chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Flipping on the lights, she gave him a hard stare, then finished getting the coat off and came over to stand in front of the coffee table. She set the cup on the table and showed him her cell phone. “See this?”

He nodded, trying to maintain eye contact while her legs and her bare feet taunted him. There were no yoga pants today, only a tight-fitting skirt that stopped shy of her knees and showed off her sexy calves.

“This,” she said in a scolding voice, “is a phone. You call people with it, you text them. Hell, you can even access crazy stuff like email, and I’m pretty sure you have one that’s even fancier than mine.”

He liked it when she was fired up. All that annoyance. All that irritation and frustration.

If he could get her in the bedroom, he could help take care of the frustration.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. I had my reasons.”

“Was one of those reasons the breaking news today out of Oregon about Coach Watson?”

He remained silent, giving her a small smile.

She paled. “Did you find proof he was
still
molesting girls?”

“The child porn suggested it was a strong possibility.”

She nodded and some of the bluster went out of her. “Thank you for that. For tracking him down and making sure he was arrested. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Remember back in the hospital, I told you I’d like us to start over?”

The phone joined the cup on the coffee table. Savanna stayed standing. “I remember.”

“I needed to make sure we were both starting with a fresh slate.”

“Zeb and I talked about it today. Watson’s true identity is already public and it’s been revealed that he was a former coach with the 2004 Olympic team. A few reporters have already called to see if I have a comment. Zeb is handpicking someone to do a sit down and interview me for primetime. I’m going to tell my story. My mother will never speak to me again, but I have to stop keeping this secret.”

“That’s why I went after him. Yes, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurting other girls, and maybe I wanted some payback for you, too, but I also knew you needed the opportunity to tell your story so you could put the past behind you and move forward. If seeing him go to jail is enough, then so be it, but if you need more, like exposing what really happened on
The Bunk Stops Here
, you have that choice now.”

Slowly, she sank into the chair across from him. It was a velvety sapphire blue that matched her eyes. “Parker was right about you.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“She said you have your own way of communicating. I can respect that.”

He heard an edge in her voice. “But?”

“No buts. I just… I need to tell you something, and right now, I’m feeling pretty unsure of the best way to do that. I’m usually good with words, but not so much right now.”

His stomach dropped. From her tone and the rigidness in her body, he sensed she was about to drop a bomb on him.

His gaze dropped to the cup on the table. The phone. The urgency he’d heard in some of her messages. “Aw, shit, Savanna. Are you…?”

“Am I what?”

He choked out the word. “Pregnant?”

Those pretty blue eyes went wide and she teetered on the edge of the chair, half-laughing. “God, no. Trust me, I already checked. My stomach’s been a queasy mess, but it’s because I’ve been so stressed out about
you
.”

Relief flooded him. Not that he never wanted kids, but he wasn’t father material. He’d made up his mind a long time ago that that type of happily ever after would never happen for him. “Then what is it?”

She clapped her hands in her lap, worrying her fingers. “I guess I was hoping that the show I did today would tell you how I feel about you.”

“I’m not a hero, Savanna.”

“You are to me.” Her next words rushed out on a heavy breath. “I just… I don’t want you to go back to the Navy. And I know that’s wrong, but you’d be in San Diego, and I’d be here, and well… I would miss you.”

Trace sat forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Who said I was going back to the Navy?”

“Beatrice said they called you in for a meeting to offer you a new assignment training a team of SEALs.”

“They did.”

“And?”

“I take it you haven’t talked to her today. I’m going back to Shadow Force.”

“Shadow Force?”

“Shadow Force International. Rock Star Security is a cover for the real work Emit and his teams do. Yes, RSS is real and we all take turns doing the bodyguard thing, but Shadow Force is the group behind that. We perform private intelligence, security, and paramilitary missions, helping people who have nowhere else to turn. Dangerous shit that will require me to go out of the country and keep some things from you for your safety as well as our clients’.”

“I suspected there was more to the bodyguard business than Beatrice was letting on.”

“My days of taking orders are over, Savanna. I’ve always done what I was told to do, always followed orders and did the right thing, no matter what it cost me. I’m not doing that anymore. From now on, I’m doing what makes me happy.”

Her gaze locked on his, scanning, searching. “And what is it that makes you happy, Lt. Hunter?”

“You.”

A tiny smile touched her lips. She ran her palms over the tight material of the skirt, played with the hem, drawing his attention to her beautiful thighs. “Okay, cool, I’m just going to say it. The thing I need to tell you.”

He gave her a chin cock to continue.

“I thought you knew this already, but maybe you don’t, and I need to say it. Straight out.”

He waited. Watched her work up her nerve.

“I love you.” Her lips folded in for a second and when he didn’t say anything, she murmured, “
awk
-ward,” under her breath.

“Okay, then,” he said.

“
Okay
then
?” She stood as if someone had poked her with a hot branding iron. “
Okay
then? Wow. I guess you don’t feel the same. No problem. I get it.”

Coming to his feet, he reached across the table and grabbed her arm before she could run off. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Savanna.” He went around the table, still holding onto her arm, and came to stop right in front of her so he could look down into those eyes that made him feel like he wanted to drown in them. “I’m not you. I
do
suck at communicating with words. Actions are easier for me. I’ve never said the words I love you to any woman before, but… I
do
love you.”

He dug in his pocket for the $10 ring he’d bought at a minimart down the road and held it up. The fake diamond on top reflected the overhead light. “Now that I’m no longer a fugitive, I can get my hands on my bank accounts again, and I promise I’ll buy you a real one of these if you say yes.”

Now
he
was blabbering. “I know as much about engagement rings as I do love, Savanna, so I figured maybe you’d want to go with me to pick one out. Maybe that’s the first thing we can pencil in on our fresh, clean slate together. A ring buying trip.”

Her focus shifted from his face to the cheap substitute ring to his face again. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Yes…?”

Her laugh started low in her belly and radiated up. She threw her head back and let it out, and for a second, Trace worried that she was laughing at his very poor attempt at expressing himself.

If so, he deserved it. He sucked at this shit.

But in the next second, Savanna threw her arms around him and kissed him square on the lips.

Hers were soft and needy, drawing him to her like wildfire. He kissed her back, parting her lips and sliding his tongue inside as he held her close, her body molding to his.

After a moment, she drew back and wiggled her fingers at him. “Let me see that ring.”

He handed it to her and watched as she slipped it on her left ring finger. It was a little loose, the big plastic diamond canting to one side.

“I love it,” she said. “And I love you. Your actions speak louder than words.”

“So that’s a yes? You’ll marry me?”

“Two more things, since I’m not keeping secrets anymore.”

His insides shrank a little again. “What?”

“I want kids. Not right away, but soon. And I need you to keep an eye on Henley. He’s after my sister. I’m not sure he deserves her.”

Trace laughed. “Whatever you want, Savanna, although I’ll probably suck at being a dad, but since you’re an overachiever, you’ll make a great mom, so I’ll do my best and hope the kids take after you. As far as Henley, I’ll kick his ass if he so much as hurts Parker’s feelings.”