She cleared her throat. “Do you—”
“I’ll take the couch.”
She hid a flinch at the finality in his tone. “Sure. I’ll grab you some blankets.” Going to the linen closet upstairs gave her a minute alone to think. She couldn’t read him. Had no idea what was going on in his head. Very unlike Gage, who’d always been so open with her.
If she’d lost him for good, it was her own damn fault, she thought angrily. A different kind of grief seeped into her, leaving her cold and empty.
Carrying a pillow and some blankets, she made her way downstairs to find that he’d already pulled the back cushions off the couch. It was long enough to fit his tall frame if he curled up a bit, and without the back cushions he’d have plenty of room. She wished she had an extra bed to offer him but she’d turned the guestroom into an office when she’d moved in. She didn’t bother offering him her room because she knew he’d turn her down flat and get irritated with her all over again.
Gage took the pillow. “Thanks.” He dropped it at one end of the couch and reached back for the first blanket. Hating the distance between them, she helped him tuck it into the frame like a fitted sheet and shook out the heavy quilt he’d use as a blanket. When it was done he looked over at her, poised at the other end of the couch, as if he wasn’t sure why she was still standing there, and stared. Swallowing, she shifted from one foot to the other. Did she lay it all out on the line here and now?
“Not tired anymore?” he guessed.
“No, I’m completely beat.”
“Go ahead and get to bed then. I’m good. See you in the morning.”
The dismissal registered but she couldn’t make herself leave. Something warned her that if she didn’t do something to close this emotional divide she’d be sorry, and regret it for the rest of her life.
He was still standing there, unmoving, watching her with an unreadable expression. With the kitchen light still on there was enough light for her to see the wariness in his eyes. She hated that look. Hated it more that she’d put it there. More than ever she realized how much she needed him. And so far he’d been there for her every step of this hellish journey. He was the kind of man she could depend on for anything and she wanted him beside her from this moment on.
He didn’t want her thanks and she didn’t know what else to say. But sometimes action was better than words.
Before she could change her mind, she took two steps to close the distance between them, reached up to take his face in her hands and leaned up to kiss him.
Huge mistake.
He made a low sound and slanted his mouth over hers. Sexual need slammed into her. It hit her like a blast wave, so strong it made her shudder. His taste. God, she’d forgotten how good he tasted, how soft his lips were.
She crowded in closer with an inarticulate sound and plastered her body against his muscular frame, desperate for more. Gage growled low in his throat and slid his hands into her hair, his tongue eagerly exploring her mouth. Her nipples tightened, breasts swelling as tingles raced along her nerve endings, centering in the throbbing pulse in her core. He was all hard, taut muscle, his body all but vibrating with unrelieved tension. Claire surrendered to the lust driving her and kissed him harder, demanding everything he had to give.
It was always like this with him. Zero to ninety in the space of a heartbeat. She was melting, liquid heat pooling low in her belly and between her thighs. She wanted him to throw her onto that couch and blanket her with his weight, fill her completely and pound into her until she came so hard she screamed his name. When it came to making her scream in ecstasy, Gage was an expert.
Her throaty, needy moan drifted into the air between them, charging the room with electricity. His hands locked her head in place as he crushed his mouth down over hers, the steely length of his erection pressed against her lower abdomen. She was drowning, already slipping under the dark waves of desire when he suddenly ripped his mouth away from her and released her head.
Gasping, Claire reached for his shoulders to steady herself. He caught her upper arms but as soon as she’d straightened he released her and stepped back. She licked her lips, stared at him. He was breathing roughly, his stare hot enough to melt metal. He wanted her, every bit as badly as she did him. “What—”
He shook his head sharply. “Bad idea.”
Her heart constricted. “I—”
Want you. I need you.
I never stopped loving you.
But she couldn’t force the words out. They made her feel too vulnerable in the face of his rejection.
Gage blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly fighting for control. “God, just… Look, you’re going through a lot and I understand why you want this right now but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be something you regret tomorrow morning when you’re thinking clearly again.” She opened her mouth to protest and tell him she
was
thinking clearly but he talked right over her. “Let’s just get through the next couple days and once everything’s settled down we’ll talk about us then, okay?”
The vise-like pressure around her heart eased somewhat. Her body was crying out for him, though not just for the physical release he offered but dammit, she knew he was right. Things were still way too unsettled between them to throw sex into the mix. Even if it would’ve been mind-blowing, nuclear meltdown sex that left them both sweaty and too exhausted to move until morning.
“Okay,” she made herself whisper, telling herself there was still hope for more if he’d promised to talk later. Gage always kept his promises. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
Yearning for him more with every step, she forced her feet to carry her upstairs to her empty bed and shut the door behind her.
Come
on
, did these people never leave their damn house on the weekend?
Mo fumed silently as he drove past for the second time that day and saw two SUVs still in the driveway. And now the damn lawn was already cut, too, which totally blew his cover and plans to hell. He hit the gas and continued down the street, searching for another option. Nothing came to mind, except for a direct assault on the house and he’d prefer not to die in this operation. His dedication didn’t extend all the way to suicide to ensure the target was eliminated. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Halfway down the block, his cell rang. A burner phone he’d picked up the day before at the local mall. He knew who it was without looking, contemplated not answering, but knew he’d be in even greater danger if he ignored it. Pulling over, he tamped down the fear and frustration twining through him and answered. “Hello?”
“We’ve had no word from you in two days. Is there a problem?” Urdu. Which meant the man on the other end wasn’t worried about anyone eavesdropping on the call. Mo was glad at least one of them felt confident about that.
He set his jaw before answering. “The target is proving difficult to isolate.” And now he couldn’t even use the identity of a landscaper as an excuse to get the job done. He’d called a landscaper friend to borrow his truck under the guise of having to pick up a new couch. Now all the truck did was make him run the risk of being conspicuous.
“Why do you need to isolate them? We told you to take care of this by any means necessary. Perhaps you misunderstood our meaning?”
Mo gritted his teeth. “I understand what you want. I’ll get it done.”
“You will have until Tuesday evening to complete your task, and then we will be forced to take other measures.”
The line went dead before he could respond, but really, what was there to say? Frustrated, he threw the phone across the bench seat. It hit the door and fell to the passenger floorboard with a thud as he put the vehicle into drive.
He kept driving until he was out of the residential neighborhood and making his way north back to the city center. Mo knew all too well what those
other measures
were and he wanted no part of them. But damn, he’d wanted to make this as clean as possible, walk away and be long gone when the explosion happened. Looked like that might not be an option anymore.
Cold, clammy sweat broke out across his face and chest, under his arms. His shirt was already sticking to his skin and the conversation had only ended two minutes ago. There was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight. He had to fix this, find another way. He was smart and motivated, even more so with that subtle threat against his life the man had just made.
A horn blared. He blinked and jerked the wheel to the left just in time to avoid crashing into a minivan that had turned the corner. Damn he hadn’t even seen it, hadn’t even realized he’d run a red light. The driver, a woman ferrying around a load of elementary aged kids, was glaring daggers at him and shouting something he didn’t catch. Mo quickly merged into the other lane and turned onto a different street, deciding to take an alternate route home. The fewer people who saw him, the safer he’d be.
He had to regroup and figure out what the hell to do, and fast. Because if he wanted to live through this, he had to kill the target well before the Tuesday night deadline.
****
Sean Dunphy backed the SUV he and Ellis were sharing out of the driveway, careful not to knock over the bags of grass clippings he’d set there an hour ago, and drove down the street. The neighborhood was quiet this Sunday morning, only a few people out working in their yards to take advantage of the break in the weather.
The sky was overcast and promising more rain, but for now the roads were dry. Even though he was going to a funeral later, the day was looking up for him. Because in a few minutes he’d be picking up Zahra and have her all to himself until the service. And, if things went well, hopefully afterward too. Maybe until they both had to climb out of the tangled bed sheets to get to work the next morning.
He pulled out to pass a truck with a lawnmower in the back that suddenly pulled over to the curb without signalling. His mood was so good he didn’t even bother glaring at the driver on the way past. Traffic was light and he made the drive to Zahra’s apartment building in less than fifteen minutes. He parked out front and was just getting out of the vehicle when she stepped out of the building’s entrance.
The black knee length dress she wore was conservative, but on her it was a statement of sexy elegance. Her long wavy black hair was wound up into some sort of knot at the back of her head, which only emphasized her large hazel eyes and the sharp cut of her cheekbones. His gaze swept down the length of her, admiring the way that dress hugged her subtle curves, down to those sexy bare calves and black high heels. God help him, he had to get through a funeral with her looking like that, when all he wanted to do was look at her.
Realizing he was staring, he jerked his eyes back to her face and put on a friendly smile, trying not to gawk. “Hey, I was just going to text you.”
“I saw you pull up,” she answered, sliding her purse strap up higher on her toned shoulder and walking toward him with a confident stride that made him want to groan in appreciation. Today the slight hitch in her gait was almost invisible and he wondered why, and what had caused it. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it in the first place, but then, most people weren’t as observant as him. After spending the past few years serving with the best recon unit in the military, he’d learned to see things others didn’t.
Zahra drew him in a way he didn’t fully understand but he didn’t care about the why of it. The woman was independent to the point of aloofness and moved with a regal grace that never failed to draw his eye. She stepped past him to the door he’d opened for her, slid inside with a murmur of thanks and a flash of dusky thigh as the hem of her dress rode up. Her scent drifted up to tease him, a mix of warm amber and even warmer woman that made the front of his pants incredibly tight all of a sudden. Sean shut the door behind her and hurried around the hood to get behind the wheel.
“Thanks for picking me up,” she said as he steered away from her building, casting him a sidelong glance out of those amazing hazel eyes made even more vivid by the thick fringe of black lashes that surrounded them.
“No problem. Wish it could’ve been for a nicer reason though.”
She turned her head to look out the windshield with a sigh. “Yeah. Poor Claire. How is she doing, have you heard?”
“Gage is with her. Says she’s holding up well.”
“She would. She’s tough, but I guess that’s to be expected when your brother and father were ex-Green Berets.”
“Guess so.”
“And speaking of ex-Green Berets, are she and Gage…back together?” she asked cautiously.