Ice Cold (44 page)

“Everyone being evac’d from the property. Can’t get everyone out of HQ in time. We need a Hail Mary . . .”

“Navarro’s good at those.”

16:11:00

“Look for the explosive charge,” Rafael instructed Mitchell. “This baby flies a ballistic trajectory.”

“Looking . . .”

“Simulated truth trajectories and radar contact data . . . generated by numerical solving the second order differential equations of motion for a unitary . . . Runge-Kutta method . . .”

Honey didn’t understand any of it. All she cared about was seeing the man she loved hunched over a weapon that might blow them up at any second. She went deaf, focused on watching his back muscles flex as he did his job. He was the best, she reminded herself. Rafael Navarro. Bomb Whisperer.

Rafael Navarro, the man she loved.

God. She was in such deep shit. Either they’d all be dust in fifteen minutes, or she’d have to watch his back as he walked out of her life.

Her chest hurt.

14:21:03

She was almost grateful she couldn’t see his hands as he talked Mitchell through what each was doing, in a calm, even tone that belied the urgency of the situation.

12:12:45

“. . . launch at t equals 0 from a range of approximately . . .”

Honey slipped her gloved hand into Dolan’s and he gave it a squeeze. In all the years she’d known him, they’d never so much as brushed against one another. They were both solitary, private people, and although Honey liked and respected him, before today she would never have let even
him
know her vulnerability. But these were unusual circumstances.

There wasn’t anything more personal than this entire op had been. From start to finish, Savage had meant it to be personal, and in that, she had succeeded.

07:34:18

Even though her suit was temperature-controlled to remain at an even sixty-seven degrees, she felt perspiration beneath her breasts and prickling at her hairline. Not able to stand still, she moved a dozen feet away from Dolan and walked back and forth beneath the trees, arms folded tightly beneath her breasts. Afraid to blink, her eyes burned behind the goggles.

So much to lose, just when she’d found out what she really wanted. The helpless feeling of not being able to do a damn thing to stop the situation ate at her.

03:59:00

“. . . two boost stages, one lasting from t equals 0 to t equals 32 seconds and the next from t equals 32 to t equals 138 seconds—”

The sky gradually lightened behind the mountains. Honey rotated her stiff shoulders, feeling the ache in her hip where she’d been hit by the bullet earlier and the bruise in her solar plexus in an almost abstract way, now that she was no longer fueled by adrenaline. She leaned against a majestic pine as rosy pink light bathed the snow around Rafael, kneeling beside the missile. Beautiful. Majestic. And all about to be wiped off the Earth.

She started to pray.

01:13:02

“Easy. Easy . . .” Rafe’s deep voice vibrated in her ear as he soothed Mitchell’s strung-tight nerves. “Got it?”

Silence for several agonizing seconds on the open mic. Then Mitchell said, more shaky breath than affirmation. “Yeah.”

Rafael straightened, turning to look at Honey, and with a broad grin, lifted his arms in victory and laughed as she ran to him. “And the crowd goes wild!”

“Crazy, crazy man!” She flung herself into his arms.

THIRTY-SIX

 T 
hat’s it then. It’s all over.” Rather than look at him, Honey put on her sunglasses against the glare. Rafael heard the finality in her voice as he followed her out of T-FLAC’s low-slung headquarters building the following day.

Sometimes, he really preferred hand-to-hand combat to post-op debriefing. The only break in the Q&A came when Dolan dropped in to inform him that the Nielson imposter had tried to commit suicide when she realized she couldn’t escape. She’d failed, and between what the IT team was finding on her computer and what she was telling the T-FLAC interrogators, they’d have their hands full rounding up Black Rose operatives for a while. He was prepared to sit that one out; he’d had more than enough of Black Rose to last him a lifetime.

Rafael hadn’t realized just how close the underground facility was to Honey’s ranch. Oblivious, he’d driven by her place dozens of times over the years, none the wiser.

Despite little or no sleep, she’d fixed her hair in a shiny, pale fall and expertly applied her makeup. She looked fresh, and heart-stoppingly beautiful. Emotional shields firmly in place, of course. Just another day at the office for the Ice Princess. He loved seeing her ass in tight blue jeans and salivated looking at her breasts in a body-skimming, light blue sweater that matched her eyes and showed her cold, erect nipples. She wore no coat or hat and shivered slightly as soft flakes sugared her hair.

Over? He didn’t think so. “
Savage
is done, but there are still things to discuss. Key?” He held out his hand. “I’ll drive.” He’d been picked up at the ranch early that morning by Dolan and was delighted to see she’d driven the Lamborghini for the debriefing. And it was classic Winston to finish a grueling op and go through what she’d gone through personally, and still insist on driving herself to HQ instead of accepting a ride.

She hesitated, then dropped the key into his palm. “You’re coming back to the house? I thought—”

“Erroneously
.
”
He opened her door. “Hop in.”

It was a fine machine. He resisted patting the sleek hood as he rounded the front and got in on the driver’s side. The vehicle smelled of leather and Honey’s unique fragrance.

She fastened her seatbelt, clearly unsettled by the unplanned turn of events. “The debriefing took over six
hours
! What’s left to say?” Smoothing her hair behind her ear, she sent him a shuttered glance before turning her attention to the road. “We saved the day. T-FLAC wasn’t blown to hell, my house and everyone in it are safe, my data undisturbed—” She shrugged.

Rafael bit back a smile as he pulled onto the gravel. She was paddling as fast as she could in unfamiliar waters. Miss Winston preferred being in control. Yet, she’d let him drive.
This bodes well.

“How’s Pollack?” They’d barely spoken since Honey had shot Savage and he’d disabled the bomb. The night before, while the Garbage detail did their job, she’d talked to Dolan and Savin briefly then disappeared to spend time with the old man at the hospital.

“The doctor tells me he’s doing amazingly well, considering his age and the trauma. He came through surgery like a trouper.” Tapping her fingers on her purse, which she held on her lap, Honey suddenly realized she was displaying nerves and stopped fidgeting, but Rafael could feel her tension like a third passenger in the car.

Once the missile threat had been taken care of, Pollack had been transported to the nearby T-FLAC hospital, where the best doctors waited to receive him. Rafael had watched Honey through an observation window, aching to be with her, but respecting that all her focus was on her friend. Fatigue had finally gotten the best of him before she was willing to leave Pollack, and he’d crashed in Honey’s bed for a couple of hours.

“He’s impatient to come home, of course, but it’ll be a few days yet.”

“He’s in good hands.”

Rafael had taken a nap in her bed alone. Their debriefings had been done separately, but he’d thought about her all day. “Tell me about all those people at your house.” A safe enough subject until they got back to the ranch.

“They live on the property—well, most of them. There’s a household staff because I don’t want Pollack exerting himself. Cindi is his ‘assistant’ but really she’s his wrangler and makes sure he eats and takes his meds. God, I almost lost him . . .”

“He’s a wily old guy. Faking the severity of his injuries so Savage would ignore him was a smart move.”

“Sorry I didn’t come back before you split this morning, but I wanted to be nearby in case he needed me when he woke up after surgery. Even though he was exhausted after all that activity, he was in pretty good shape, overall. As it happens,
he
slept like the proverbial baby, and
I
was the one who watched the sun come up. I would’ve liked . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“What would you have liked?” Would she actually admit her feelings?

Her cheeks pinked as she slanted him a look. “Liked to spend one more night together.”

“I understood that you had to be with him.” Besides, he knew it wasn’t going to
be
one more night. Not if he had any say in the matter.

“Thanks.” She studied her buffed, unpolished fingernails. “Maybe—” Not finishing the thought, she said instead, “We’ve developed the property into a sanctuary for operatives returning from an op needing extensive medical or psychological care. It’s also available for wives and/or loved ones who need somewhere safe to stay, for whatever reason. The women at the house are some of those family members.”

“Your ranch functions as a sanctuary similar to Paradise Island?”

“It serves a similar purpose. The tropical location is spectacular all year round, but in some instances, having people recuperate where there’s also extensive training hasn’t proven ideal. I proposed my ranch. Headquarters agreed. It’s worked well.”

It made perfect sense. The ranch was just minutes from T-FLAC HQ, where there was a full surgical hospital, along with other resources. A quiet, safe location away from stimuli, while close to the action.

“Another reason, besides the backup computer systems, you and Dolan installed that crazy security setup.”

“We have twelve cabins spread over the acreage, and we’re hoping to build another six come summer. There’s plenty of room for solitude, if that’s what’s needed. And there’s the main house, if it isn’t.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“We’ve been operational for just over four years. We were lucky the cabins were empty this week. Some months we’re at capacity and guys have to crash in the bunkhouse. People stay as long as they want, come and go as they want. It’s a safe place for operatives to regain their equilibrium before going back in the field. Or not, as the case may be.”

Interesting. He loved that she babbled when she was nervous. He loved it even more that
he
made her nervous.

Which meant she had feelings for him too. Rafael relaxed and enjoyed the hum of the sleek car’s powerful engine. Honey off balance was just the way he wanted it. The more nervous she became, the calmer and more confident he felt.

He pulled into the long, paved driveway of Ahmongani Ranch. House of peace. It fit. Sunlight sparkled off the crystals on the neatly plowed snowbanks on either side of the road. Cloud free, the pale blue bowl of the sky was as piercing as Honey’s eyes. “That’s remarkable.
You’re
remarkable.”

“It’s easy when you have more money than you know what to do with,” she said dryly.

“Money isn’t everything, Winston. Don’t sell yourself short.”

She cleared her throat. “When do you report back to work?”

Testing to see when he had to leave? He kept a straight face, giving nothing away. “I’m being sent on a training mission. Should be interesting.”

“Oh?” Her shoulders stiffened.

“I’m ready to go as soon as I get clearance.”

She was too good an operative to let any disappointment show, though her voice rose the slightest bit. “Hopefully it’ll be somewhere warm.”

After they were cleared by the guards at the property’s perimeter—Dolan wasn’t taking any chances, lest they’d missed one or more of Savage’s crew—he pulled up outside the garage. The door opened automatically when the vehicle got near enough and closed behind them as he swung the car into its spot.

Unfastening her seatbelt, she took off her sunglasses. “Will you stay?”

“For dinner? For the night?”
Forever?

She held his gaze. “Both.”

It was a start. He’d take it.