Sandra Hill (24 page)

He saw stars.

She still glared. But the pink on her face had moved down her neck. He knew when a woman was aroused. She was.

He kissed her.

She kept saying “no, no, no” against his mouth. At the same time, her hands had crept around his neck and pulled him closer. He moved his chest back and forth across her breasts. He hoped to God that the
abrasion of cloth on cloth, chest on breasts, felt as good to her as it did to him. When the nos turned into a moan, he put his hands inside the elastic waistbands of both her shorts and panties and let them drop to the floor.

She looked up at him, her eyes droopy, her kiss-swollen lips parted, and murmured, “I’m still angry with you.”

“I know,” he said. “We can fight later. Let’s make up first.”

“Truce before the war?” She laughed, but it was only a short laugh because he’d perched her on the edge of the washer, spread her legs and slammed into her. He closed his eyes and saw bright red sparks. When he opened them, he saw that Maddie had closed her eyes, too. Leaning back, holding on to the edge of the machine, she spread herself wider for him. He looked down and saw her blond curls intermingled with his dark ones … and almost lost it.

It was short and sweet … emphasis on sweet. She came. He came. A dustpan, plastic bucket and box of detergent had gone flying off the shelf at the force of their lovemaking. Now he pulled his shorts back on and helped Maddie with hers.

He did not like the look on her face. It was definitely that of a woman who was well satisfied and looking for more … but something else, too. They went into the kitchen, which was fortunately empty. Geek must still be in the computer room. Ian soon found out what was on her mind.

Maddie turned to him. Her braid had come half unbraided. She did indeed have whisker burns on every visible surface of skin. And her nipples were
standing out like sentinels. But she was staring at him with … determination.

Little alarm bells went off in his head.

“Do not give me orders again,” she said.

That’s my job, sweetheart. Leaders give orders. But she is not going to like hearing that.
At first he refused to answer. Then he said, “I’ll try.”
That is such a lie.

“One more thing.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Since we are getting along so well, does that mean you will help me raise an army to regain Norstead?”

Norstead again! Raise an army? Who does she think I am?
“Be reasonable.”

“Reason has no place in a quest for vengeance.”

“That sounds like one of my motivational quotes.” He laughed.

She did not laugh. “Say me aye or nay, but do not muddle about with half-answers. Are you going to help me raise an army?”

“Hell, no.”

She exhaled loudly with disgust. “So be it. That was the last time we will make love, then. It cannot happen ever again.”

“If raising an army is the price, then you’re damn straight it’s the last time.”

She looked at him as if he’d just killed her cat. He felt as if he’d just killed her cat.

Sam walked into the kitchen just then, her belly dragging on the floor like a mop. She seemed to study Maddie, then him, then made a hissing sound as if to say,
Dumb, dumb, dumb!

War of the (Viking) roses …

One sennight later, Madrene was sitting on the solar carpet with Pretty Boy, eating a delicacy called popcorn, and watching repeats of
Sex and the City
on the magic tea-vee box. A snoring Sam had wrapped herself around Madrene’s shoulders like a mantle.

The tea-vee box was enthralling. She did not care what anyone said; there were actual people inside the box, acting out parts. Some of those plays were deliciously scandalous, like this one. She was learning
soooo
much.

She had given Luke—that was Slick’s real name—her ten jewels to sell, and it appeared that she would gain a huge amount of coins for her mission.

Cage, bless the rascal, had told her of
Mercenary
magazine, and read her notices of hired soldiers willing to go anywhere.

Geek worked endlessly when he was here,
teaching her to read and write, as well as map out a path she might take back to Norstead.

She and Omar had become quite the cooking experts. She taught him some Norse dishes; he taught her about spicy Arab foods.

Despite all this—the tea-vee, the jewels, the hired warriors, her reading and writing, and the cooking—Madrene was miserable. For one whole sennight, Ian had not spoken to her. Of course, she had not spoken to him, either, but that was not relevant, in her opinion.

He should have attempted to speak with her about their mutual decision to halt their lovemaking. Not that she would change her mind. Nay, regaining Norstead had to be her priority. She could not let sex with Ian distract her. He would try to change her mind, she knew he would.

Oh, my gods and goddesses! Look at that. Samantha is naked—Samantha, the naked woman, not the cat—and so is the young man. And he is swiving her in front of one and all. Loudly. And so hard the bed is moving.
She put a hand to her flushed cheek and looked at Cage. He just winked at her.

Of course, Ian chose that moment to walk in.

His eyes went wide as he took in her and Cage sitting on the floor next to each other with their backs against the sofa, shook his head at Sam snoring on her shoulders, blinked several times at the program on the tea-vee—
Honest to Odin! I never knew two people could do
THAT?—and returned his attention to the two of them. He was wearing his brown uniform, and he looked so handsome Madrene could have swooned. Dropping his leather case to the
floor, he addressed Cage. “This is how you guard her? You’re here to work, not play.”

At the sound of Ian’s voice, Sam raised her head, saw it was only her “father” and went back to sleep.

Despite Ian’s vile tone, Cage responded brightly, “Hey, I’ve got my AK-47 on the end table and a pistol in my pocket. There are motion detectors on every door and window. Sly and JAM are outside. We’ve got everything covered, man.”

Ian shook his head at Cage and said, “Come into the kitchen. I want to update you on the latest happenings.”

He walked away from them then. Without even greeting Madrene at all.
The boorish oaf!

“Guess you should come, too,” Cage said to her.

She eased Sam off her shoulders and gave her a little kiss before standing. Ian hadn’t specifically invited her, but if his news involved her, she had every right to be present.

She hoped he didn’t yell at her.

She was very worried about that vein.

The two men poured themselves goblets of that bitter brew, cough-he, and she got herself a Pepsi. Ian sat at one end of the table, she at the other, and Cage in between.

Ian didn’t even acknowledge she was there.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. There was a tic going in his right jaw, and the vein emerged, too. He was aware of her, for a certainty. That gave her a strange sort of satisfaction.

She was aware of him, too. Excessively aware. She never should have made love with him. It made it that much harder to resist him now. Not that he was pursuing her.

At odd times, she noticed a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Earth to Maddie. Earth to Maddie,” Cage said.

She was jolted back to the present. “What?”

“Ian asked me if you were staying away from windows and doorways.”

“Tell him yes. Tell him that message has been drilled into me. Tell him he is being childish and immature and a boor.”

“Tell her she’s a liar if she says I was boring with her.”

“Tell the dolt I said boor … a rough clod … not boring.”

Cage’s head kept swinging back and forth between the two of them. He was grinning.

“Tell her I will be glad when this mission is over.”

Madrene’s eyes shot to Ian.
Does he really mean that? Will he be happy when I am gone? I do not care. I should not care. Why does it hurt so much?
“Tell him I will be out of here the instant the terrorists are caught.”

Ian looked directly at her, too. He seemed hurt, as well, but only for an instant. Then he reverted to his usual crude self. “Tell her that her nipples are showing.”

Cage made a choking sound.

“Tell him that his manpart is not all that impressive.”

“Enough already!” Ian stood, almost knocking all of his documents to the floor. “While this is great entertainment, we have business to take care of here.”

“Agreed,” Cage said.

They both looked at Maddie.

She nodded her agreement, reluctantly. Madrene
had never been one to stop in the middle of an argument, and it rankled her to do so now.

“The tangos are in town,” Ian announced as he sat back down.

Everyone grew silent at that news. It had been expected, of course. But now the dangerous part of the mission would start.

“How many?” Cage asked.

“Not sure. At least a dozen. Our informant tells us they’re alternately skeptical that Maddie knows anything and outraged that a mere woman might reveal their secrets.”

“How do they know I am here?” she asked.

For once, Ian talked to her directly. “That dirtbag Dan Sullivan took a picture of us together at our so-called wedding in Baghdad. Putting two and two together, they figured the U.S. government and its Navy have you under lock and SEAL.”

“Can I see the picture?” From Ian’s and Cage’s startled looks, she could tell her question was odd, considering the more important information he’d relayed. She didn’t care what they thought. Lifting her chin, she stared them both down.

“What’s the plan?” Cage asked.

“First of all, more guards. I need to go into the base every day, to give the impression of normality. Once we get some intel on where they are and put some shadows on them … then we may or may not take her outside to draw them out for a showdown.”

“Why can’t we do it right away, and get this over with?”

Ian stiffened as if she’d just slapped him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m as anxious to have you out of here as you are to leave.”

Madrene felt as if a fist had just clenched her heart. That wasn’t at all what she’d meant. But what did she say? “The instant this is over, I will be gone.”

“Good riddance.”

They glared at each other. Ian looked as angry as she felt.

“Let me ask you a question,” she said.

“Be my guest.”

“I have asked you and I ask you again: When this is over, would you lead a small army to my homeland to recapture Norstead?”

“You are crazy!”

“And you wonder why I will not lie with you anymore.”

“Who asked you to?”

She growled.

He growled.

Cage stood and laughed as he said, “You two are so suited it’s eerie.”

Gotcha! …

It was two a.m., and Ian was still unable to fall asleep.

He sprawled out on his back, his favorite position. Didn’t work. Tried one side, then the other. Nada. Even face down proved fruitless.

Maybe he should let Sam sleep in the bed again, like she used to, instead of being banished to the living-room sofa. Maybe he slept better before because he’d been lulled by the rhythm of her cat breathing.

Nah!

He attributed his insomnia to stress over this mission. He’d never been so personally involved in an assignment before. Or it could be the infuriating,
tempting woman who lay on the other side of the bed, about a mile away.

It was pitch-black in the room, but he could picture her over there. The image of her naked body was imprinted on his brain forever.
Wonder if she’s sleeping nude, like she did that first night. I like to think so. No, I don’t. Who am I kidding? Shit!
Disgusted with himself, and his lack of sleep, he rolled over one more time.

“Ian,” she said softly.

He froze. “What?” he barked. He hadn’t meant to be so gruff; it just came out that way.

“I hear you moving. What are you doing over there?”

Great! Now we’re going to chit-chat. Next she’ll ask me what I’m thinking.
“Guess.”

She made a small sound of surprise. “Pleasuring yourself?”

Oh, my God! I didn’t mean that.
“Yeah.”
That ought to shut her up.

There was a loud silence before Maddie said, “Me, too.”

This I gotta see.
Ian sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

She was lying on her side facing him, both hands folded under her cheek, prayer style. And there was a big ol’ smirk on her face.

Ian got out of bed and stomped into the bathroom. He was going to take a long, cold shower.

Beware of women with plans …

Madrene had an unexpected visitor the next day.

There were not supposed to be any visitors,
especially ones who had to knock before coming in. Cage was her inside guard today, and he immediately took out his piss-toll and checked it over. Then, pistol in hand, he picked up an ear piece which somehow connected him to the outside seals. After a short conversation, he put the gun down and told her, “It’s okay.”

Cage opened the door and said, “Admiral, we didn’t expect you. Ian’s not here.”

“I know he’s not here. I came to see his wife.”

“No shit? I mean, absolutely, Admiral, sir.”

Me? Why me?
Madrene looked at the dignified gentleman who walked into the living room where they were sitting. He was dressed all in white, with short-clipped gray hair. There were many colored brooches on his chest and shoulders. She did not need to be told he must be an important military man.

Cage led the man in and said, “Admiral, this is Maddie Olgadottir … I mean, Maddie MacLean … oh, hell, I don’t know what I mean.”

Turning to her, his face beet red, Cage said, “Maddie, this is Admiral Thomas MacLean. Ian’s father.”

She was shocked.

He reached out a hand to shake hers. It was the custom in this country to greet each other by shaking hands.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” the man said to her.

Once they were all sitting in the living room, Cage acting as if Odin himself had come to visit, the man gave her an all-over scrutiny. And smiled. “You’ll do.”