Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (34 page)

“Sure am. I have a delightful psych eval at seven tomorrow morning.” He paused. “It’s a standard protocol thing.” He’d tacked that on like he was worried she might think something was wrong with him.

“I’m a pilot, so I’m familiar with those.” Talking about feelings and behavior while a stranger stared at you, giving you absolutely no feedback, ranked close to Vitale’s office or the mountain. “How long are you going to be sticking around?”

“If I’m cleared tomorrow, they’ll authorize me to go back, after I take care of a few more things here.”

Her pulse picked up. What did this mean, exactly, going back? “You’ll go back to Europe?”

“Yeah.” There was a sound as he let out a deep breath. “I’ll be stepping back from operations for a while. My last few ops didn’t go so well. Instead, I’ll assist from a field office.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I asked for it. This ‘being someone else’ bullshit, it gets old.”

A smile warmed her face. “So, you’ll just be Ethan. The freakishly tall guy from Kentucky, with the Croatian mother and the father who builds custom homes on some river.”

“The Ohio River Valley,” he corrected, “not necessarily on the river.”

“Whatever.”

“You know an awful lot about me, Olivia.”

She laughed. “I’m betting I haven’t even scratched the surface.”

There was a long pause, and after it, his voice was serious. “But you
want
to.”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation from her.

“I’m glad you called. Maybe don’t make me wait six damn days next time.”

She closed her eyes, so glad to hear his voice. “I’m sorry.” She’d never been more sincere.

“So, you’re not in Detroit. Where are you?”

“I’m in Washington.”

There was another long pause. “D.C.? Why’s that?”

“I’m not sure. I have a meeting in the morning . . . with Hendrix.” She didn’t want to keep secrets from him. “Do you think this is part of your eval?”

He sighed. “It’s possible. They know we’re
friends
.” Oh, she definitely deserved that. “It makes sense why he didn’t mention it to me.”

She fidgeted with the pillow on the empty side of her bed. “Can I see you after? You, like, want to grab dinner?” She stopped breathing. Holy hell, she’d just asked him out over the phone like a boy-crazed teenage-girl.

He didn’t make her wait. “Yeah, we could do that.”

Ethan lingered by the hostess stand of the restaurant, having spotted her waiting for him in the bar. She wore a red shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of dark jeans, her hair down and beautiful. She’d gone back to her original dark hair that he liked better. And she had make-up on, like she wanted to look her best for him. He could hardly stand it.

She was oblivious to Ethan, but not to the guy beside her at the bar. They seemed to be having a conversation about her arm that was in the cast. He was probably a nice enough guy, and Ethan couldn’t blame him for trying, but, shit. She was hopelessly out of Ethan’s league, and most definitely out of that guy’s. It was funny until the guy leaned subtly toward her.

There was that strange protective or possessive streak again that had first appeared in South Africa. It drew him out of the crowded area and into the bar, so she could see all six and a half feet of him. There was a flash in her eyes. A single look that told him she was his, which was good. She was definitely stuck with him now.

“Hi,” she said when he came closer. “How’d your thing go?”

The friendly guy took one look at Ethan, mumbled something about seeing his friend, and scurried away.

“It was fine. And you?” Before she could answer, he changed his mind. “You know what? Hold that thought.” He wove his hands into her silky hair, tilting her head to his. This was the kiss he’d been sitting on since Landstuhl. Her warm, soft lips moved, as eager as his were. Her body melted into him. When her tongue dipped into his mouth to taste him and her hand curled around his neck, alarms went off in his head. Public place. Not a good idea to get turned on right now. Soon. Just not right now.

She looked woozy when the kiss ended. She latched onto the bar to steady herself, and he felt a grin spread across his face. He noted her drink on the bar. Not bourbon, but beer.

“Osterhägen?” he asked, amused.

She shrugged. “It was on tap.”

The hostess approached and directed them to their table, and once Olivia was seated across from him, he couldn’t wait any longer. “So, what was your meeting about?”

Her gaze dropped abruptly to her menu. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Olivia.”

“You’re not going to like it.” She sighed and set her menu down, appearing cautious. “Hendrix wants to recruit me.”

“Recruit you? To do what I do?” His mouth snapped shut to prevent anything from coming out unfiltered. “You’re right, I don’t like it,” he finally added.

It made sense. She had military experience and knew how to pilot. She spoke two languages, had shown a willingness to learn more, and an interest in living abroad. Above all, she’d proven herself more than capable under pressure. Ethan had thought it himself that morning he’d helped her escape from Gio.
She would have made an impressive operative.

“You don’t think I could do it?” she asked.

He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers. “Jesus, I think you’d be amazing. But you have to give up a lot.” Like, the idea of this thing continuing between them. It’d be hard enough with one of them in the CIA, but both? Impossible. Again, she looked back at her menu. He did his best to keep judgment from his voice. “How seriously are you considering it?”

“I told them I’d think about it. I have a long term job offer from Shawn that I’m considering as well.”

“When do you have to make your decision?”

“They both gave me a week.”

He had a week to make his case then, and instantly he was thinking about plans. His hand rested on the table and he drummed his fingers softly until she stopped him, covering his hand with hers. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Over their meal they discussed her visit with her father, Ethan’s psych evaluation, and then branched out to topics they hadn’t touched before. Music. Books. It was foreign and exciting to have a normal conversation. After dinner she excused herself to the bathroom, and Ethan sent an email to Shawn. It was the middle of the night in Munich, but hopefully he’d have an answer by the morning.

She came back to the table, slipped into her chair, and smiled warmly. “What now, Foster?” It had a distinct ‘your place or mine’ tone he appreciated.

“Now we say goodnight.” The words nearly killed him.

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Look, if you’re going to take Hendrix’s offer, we should stop here. You understand that, right?”

She looked sheepish and hesitant. “I know.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or stand in the way. If you want it, go for it. But before you make that decision, I’d like a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Are you heading back to Detroit tomorrow?” She nodded. “Cancel your flight and meet me at the private airfield. I’ll let you know what time tomorrow. Will you do it?”

She looked confused.

“I think you’ll like it,” he added.

She slowly nodded, but gave him a strict look. “I’d better, Ethan.”

It was four in the afternoon and the Osterhägen Gulfstream was waiting for them. Ethan had woken this morning to a response telling him the plane was already in route. It had been declared air-safe a few days ago, only one bullet hole to be patched.

“Where are we going?” Olivia asked. “Is it a long flight?”

“You’re welcome to try to make me talk.”

Her eyes filled with heat at the suggestion. When they’d finished climbing to altitude and leveled off, she shot Ethan an evaluating look. “How’s your back?”

“It’s okay.”

The metal clicked as she unbuckled her seatbelt and stood, and two steps later she was seated in his lap, a leg on either side of him and her left hand up under his shirt so her warm fingers were on his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked, hearing the grin in his voice.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she purred into his ear and her sultry voice shot straight to his groin. “Where are we going?”

“South.” He smoothed back her hair.

When she turned to look out the window, it opened her neck to him and he set his mouth there. “Why are we going south?”

Beneath his lips, he felt her pulse increase, and his mirrored it. She’d changed him. He never used to get nervous when setting a plan into motion. “I’ve met some of your family, and I thought you could meet mine.”

“The spy’s family,” she said, looking more than a little surprised.

“You’ve got three days to gather as much intel on me as you can.” He took her mouth in his. “Good luck,” he whispered, hoping to push her mind the direction he wanted it to go.

Her eyes were all seduction. “Tell me what you said in Vitale’s office.”

She took the bait. Ethan cupped a hand to her soft cheek, brushing his thumb over her full, kiss-swollen lips while setting his other hand on her waist. He stared at her, looking at the flecks of hazel in her green irises. “I told you that we belong together.”

She pulled away and unease washed over her face. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true and you know it. Does it look like I’m lying?”

Her emerald eyes darkened as she scanned his honest expression. The muscles in her legs tensed when she attempted to get off of him and climb away, but he wouldn’t allow it. There was nowhere to go on this plane. She couldn’t run from him.

“Let me up.”

Her breath went shallow and rapid, and she refused to meet his gaze. Her hand curled under his on her hip, forcing it up, and finally he relented, letting her stumble back to her chair across the way from him. Her accusing eyes cut into him, but he was prepared for this. It was about to get worse. He was tired of her retreating, so he’d do it like a Band-Aid. Fast.

“You should know,” he said, “that you’re in love with me.”

Her eyes went so wide they were enormously white and then anger curled them down to slits. The words came out like she was spitting bullets, that what he’d just said was truly offensive. “I am not.”

He stood, leaned over and set his hands on the armrest of her chair so his shadow fell on her. Like the night in her loft in Munich, his face was only inches away. “Liar.”

Before she could protest, he kissed her, silencing the words. He could taste the tension and doubt in her as she sat shock-still beneath him, and he used all he had to convince her to respond. Not just respond, but to see the truth she refused to accept. She was alive. She was capable of loving.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her eyelids falling shut, and she sounded more wounded than he’d ever heard her.

He held her face in his hands, tilting her back and when her mouth parted with a sigh, he took full advantage. He used his tongue to trace her lips and then venture deeper inside, possessing her, filling her mouth with him as he tried to fill her head with thoughts of him. His fingertips trailed down over the curve of her neck, her pulse racing a thousand miles an hour.