Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) Read online

  “What the hell was that?” she said as he whipped the wheel to the side and mashed the gas. The Camaro roared to life, throwing her back against the seat. She buckled her seat belt at that reminder and sat there with her eyes wide, one hand thrown up to brace herself against the door while the other gripped the console.

  “Unwanted visitors,” Garrett said calmly, as if he’d just informed her that someone had dropped by uninvited rather than that someone had broken into her house—and shot at them.

  That’s when she remembered that Garrett had shot back.

  “Is that man dead?”

  “Yes.”

  Grace shuddered. She’d grown up in a very dynamic family, she’d been a lot of places, and she’d even learned to shoot a gun herself. Her father hunted when he had time—but she’d never seen a human being shot before. She pressed a hand to her mouth as her stomach turned.

  Garrett glanced over at her. He reached out and squeezed her arm before turning his attention back to driving. “He would have killed us if he’d had the chance. Or me, anyway. They were coming for you, Grace. And I don’t think they’d have been very nice if they’d captured you.”

  It took her a moment to find her voice. Her stomach still rolled. “Do you know who they are? Was it the same man from the other night?”

  “I don’t know that. But I do know that you are very interesting to a lot of people right now. And some of them have no qualms about trying to take what’s in your pretty head by force.”

  She shivered as a chill ran through her. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She was wearing thin silk pajamas, and the cool air wasn’t helping. Or maybe it was the icy cold of knowing that someone wanted to possess the knowledge she’d gained from her experiments.

  Garrett’s phone rang, making her jump a mile out of her skin. He lifted it to his ear with a clipped “Spencer.”

  And then he said, “Copy. Taking Princess to the safe house. Will await instructions.”

  His mouth flattened as he dropped the phone into the cup holder.

  She was too worried to work up any irritation with him for calling her Princess. “What is it? What safe house? Where?”

  “Don’t worry, Grace,” he said, shifting the car into a lower gear as he shot up the onramp for the highway. “I’ll keep you safe. Just relax.”

  They took the corner fast, and then he shifted higher again, rocketing down the Beltway. It wasn’t empty, but the traffic was definitely lighter than normal at this time of night.

  “I can’t relax.”

  He slanted her a look. “It’s going to be a long night if you don’t.”

  “It’s already been a long night.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GARRETT DROVE FOR TWO HOURS, keeping an eye on the rearview the entire way. They weren’t followed, but he still didn’t breathe the first sigh of relief until he was out of the city and there were no consistent headlights behind them.

  He glanced over at Grace. Despite her claim that she’d be unable to relax, she’d fallen asleep about an hour ago. He didn’t turn the radio on for company. He just kept driving, heading west until he’d reached the safe house located in the northernmost tip of the Shenandoah Valley.

  The cabin was set back off the road, down a dirt track, and surrounded by forest. It wasn’t a huge cabin, but it wasn’t primitive either. Mendez had a network of safe houses they could go to when the need arose during a mission. Garrett suspected they were CIA safe houses, but he had no proof of that. The cabin wasn’t remote, but it wasn’t in the middle of the action either.

  Garrett backed into the detached garage in case he needed to make a rapid escape, then shut off the engine. A quick check of his phone revealed no new messages from his team. He blew out a breath and sat with both hands on the wheel, staring into the darkness.

  That had been so close back there. His phone had blared into the night, and he’d reached for it, knowing it was HOT by the tone. Flash had told him to get out immediately, that they’d had reports a four-man team was on the way to Grace’s house.

  Flash and the guys at Georgie’s house were mobilizing, but it was all happening so fast that they weren’t going to get to him in time. Garrett hadn’t had time to be pissed then because he’d had to get Grace out.

  Now, however, he wondered who the fuck had messed up and why the warning call had been so close to the wire. Was Mendez’s power waning? Was someone interfering?

  The fact that they’d never discovered who had kept Stavros Metaxas’s presence from them until after the man had abducted Gina Domenico and her kid and nearly killed Jack Hunter didn’t make tonight’s close call go down any easier.

  With Senator Campbell involved, you’d think they’d know about a threat to his daughter much quicker than they’d gotten warning tonight.

  Garrett let go of the wheel and eased the door open. He knew the house was safe, but it was instinct to check anyway. He made a sweep of the garage and the house, returning to wake Grace and take her inside. He put his hand on her shoulder and she screamed. He clamped a hand over her mouth automatically, unwilling to let her voice carry in the night air.

  Her eyes nearly bugged out, but he whispered to her and she calmed down.

  He removed his hand slowly. “Sorry.”

  She nodded, but he hated the way she looked at him. She was scared, and he didn’t like seeing Grace scared. He helped her from the car, then grabbed her computer bag and backpack and ushered her inside. He made sure the blinds were completely closed before he turned on a single low-watt lamp.

  It was dim, but Grace didn’t complain. She was wearing navy silk pajamas that covered her entire body, but she still wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. That’s when he swore softly to himself and went searching for the heat. It was September in the mountains, and she wasn’t dressed for it.

  He found the thermostat and turned it up, then whipped a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. She looked up at him then, her gaze filled with worry.

  “Who were those men, Garrett?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He could tell she didn’t believe him by the way her mouth flattened.

  “It’s true, Grace. I don’t know. I got the call that we needed to get out, that four men were coming to your house, and that’s all I needed to know. We’re here now, and we’re safe.”

  “Where is here anyway?” She turned and looked around at the interior of the cabin. It wasn’t what she was used to. She came from a world where she wore silk freaking pajamas to bed. A world where a Steinway piano sat in her parlor and where she took a crystal wineglass up to her bathroom to drink in the tub.

  But it was also a world where she ate cold pizza from a box, a world where she watched action movies on television and got hot over the sex scenes, a world where a man stood on her doorstep and told her he was marrying someone else, fuck you very much, and oh by the way, her daddy knew it and had hired him anyway.

  Grace Campbell was a study in contrasts, and right now he wanted to tug her into his arms and hold her close just to feel her body against his. To make her feel safe and secure.

  “We’re off Skyline Drive. Shenandoah.”

  “I know where Skyline Drive is.” She tugged the blanket tighter around her body. “Wow, we went a distance, didn’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does my father know?”

  “No. Only my people do—and that’s how we want to keep it, Grace. Your father will be told you’re safe. I have to ask you not to call him—or anyone—until I give you word it’s okay to do so.”

  “Can I ask you something first?”

  He didn’t think what he’d just said was up for debate, but all right, he’d play. And if she still didn’t agree, he’d take her phone from her by force if necessary. “Yeah.”

  “Is that the first time you’ve killed a man?”

  He swallowed. Of all the fucking things. Maybe it would be easier to l
ie to her, tell her he was trained to kill but didn’t have to whip that card out of the stack very often. But he couldn’t do it for some reason.

  “No, it’s not. Not even close.”

  Her eyes glittered. “Oh.”

  He thought she would turn away from him in disgust then, because even though he’d done it to save her life, it wasn’t the kind of thing that was easy for others to understand. And she was a medical doctor, which meant she’d presumably taken an oath at some point even if she was a researcher and not a practitioner.

  She reached out and touched his hand, her fingers skimming over his for a brief moment. The contact electrified him. Why? Why?

  “I’m sorry you had to do it for me,” she said. “It can’t be easy.”

  He was rooted to the spot. His mouth opened, but he didn’t know what to say. Somehow, she’d decided that she needed to apologize to him for what he’d done for her. What he’d done to save her.

  Save them both, really.

  No one had ever, ever done that before. And he just didn’t know what to say. He’d eliminated a threat, and he wouldn’t lose sleep over it. If he did, then he was in the wrong profession.

  “I’ll do it again if I have to. As many times as it takes. It’s what I’m paid to do.”

  He thought she flinched when he said paid, and he cursed himself for it. Yes, he was paid to do it—but he’d have done it anyway because that’s what he was wired to do. Protect those who needed it. Or maybe she was just flinching at his callous disregard for shooting some bastard who’d shot at them.

  “Tell me you won’t call anyone, Grace. I need to know you understand you can’t.”

  He’d already had her disable her GPS system during the drive, but staying off the phone was even better.

  She straightened, her chin lifting into the air. There was his princess. “I’m not an idiot. I won’t call anyone.”

  “Don’t accept any calls, either. In fact, it would be best if you turned it off altogether.”

  Most likely there was no service out here—for her, not him because he had satellite. But it didn’t mean someone couldn’t pinpoint her location if she used the phone and left it on. It would be more difficult without the GPS system, but not impossible for someone who had high-level access.

  She reached for her purse and pulled her phone out. “No bars.”

  But she turned it off anyway. Then she slipped it back into her purse and sank down on the couch. She looked miserable.

  “Why don’t you go crawl into bed for a few hours?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I’d really rather not, if you don’t mind. The last time I went to bed didn’t turn out so well.”

  “No one is coming, Grace. My guys are watching. And tracking down those who broke into your home. It’s going to be fine.”

  She scrubbed her hands through her hair. It fell around her shoulders in a silky cloud. “If I’d had any idea what I was letting myself in for, I’d have never even thought about creating a new virus. It was just meant to prepare for what nature might have in store.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and watched her. “Nature can be a cruel bitch, can’t she?”

  “But also a beautiful system. The information stored in our genes—well, it’s incredible. And if we can find out how to change the code to prevent illness, or to vaccinate against illness—why wouldn’t we want to?”

  “Do you know what’s in your genes?”

  “Of course.”

  “It didn’t scare you, finding out?”

  “It did, actually. But it’s also freeing once you know you have a genetic predisposition to heart disease or cancer or Alzheimer’s. There are things you can do, steps you can take—”

  “Except you can’t do a damn thing sometimes. My brother had leukemia when we were kids. So far as I know, you can’t prevent that.”

  She looked stunned. “I’m so sorry, Garrett. Is he… was the treatment successful?”

  There was a hard knot in his throat, his gut. He didn’t talk about these things. With anyone. He just didn’t like messy emotional conversations, and he avoided them whenever possible.

  “No,” he said, flexing his fingers spasmodically. “He died when he was fifteen.”

  Her head bowed. “I’m so sorry. I know that had to be very difficult for your family.”

  “It was.” He remembered how his father had gone into the garage and worked on his woodworking projects for days. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t stop hammering and sawing and planing wood.

  His mother had cried for six hours—and then she’d stiffened her spine and gone about the business of planning a funeral and carrying it off like the lady she was. Garrett had been thirteen then, and he’d been devastated. Ben had meant the world to him, the big brother he looked up to. The person he most wanted to be like.

  He didn’t look at her, but suddenly she was up and moving toward him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest, and his heart kicked hard, painfully. What the fuck? He wanted to push her away—

  And he didn’t.

  He slid his arms around her and squeezed her tightly to him just because it felt good to hold her. “Why did you do that?”

  She was looking up at him, her eyes shining. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

  A hug? He needed far more than that, but this wasn’t the time. She wasn’t the woman.

  Except she was the woman he wanted right now. It hit him like a bat upside the head. He wanted her far more than he’d wanted anyone in the past several months that he could recall.

  He’d fucked his fair share of women since the divorce was final—sometimes more than one at a time—and he’d never felt this hard, hot, deep desire to make someone his as he did right now.

  Her breathing changed, her eyes softening as he held her. He wanted to dive into her and not come up for air until he couldn’t move a muscle.

  “Grace, you have to know something…”

  “Then tell me.”

  He knew she could feel his burgeoning hard-on. “I want to do things to you…” He swallowed as his gut tightened with the thought of all he wanted to do. All he couldn’t let himself do. “But I can’t because you deserve better.”

  “Garrett—”

  He put his thumb over her lips, silencing her. “No, listen. I got divorced six months ago, I have a crazy ex-wife and a daughter I adore. I’d do anything for her, including put up with her mother’s shit for the rest of my life just to see my kid. I’m not ready to think of anyone’s feelings but mine and Cammie’s. All I want from you, all I’ll ever want from you, is one night of hot, dirty sex. And I think you’re too sweet for that, too vulnerable. Not to mention the fact my boss would castrate me if he thought I’d so much as done what we’re doing right this minute.”

  Her smile was a touch sad. “So your balls are on the line just for hugging me, huh?”

  She took a step back, and he missed her warmth so deeply it was as if someone had ripped a part of his skin away.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

  “Grace, I—”

  She held up a hand, silencing him. “No more words… No more words.”

  *

  She was a coward for running. She knew it, and she did it anyway. Because how could she stand there with that tough, beautiful man, seeing the pain on his face when he told her about his brother, hearing the agony in his voice, and not want to soothe him in any way she knew how?

  But he didn’t want her to soothe him—or, more precisely, she was another complication he did not need. She hadn’t offered anything, not exactly, but he’d turned her down anyway.

  So she fled, because yes, it hurt to not be enough—again—for someone. Even if all the enough she turned out to be was a hot night of sex. She could handle that.

  Or she thought she could.

  But Garrett didn’t think so. He thought she wanted picket fences and happily-ever-afters, and he wasn’t going
to set foot on that path.

  She went inside the door to the first bedroom she came to and stood with her back to it once she’d closed it. What an idiot. She couldn’t even get the sex-and-seduction thing right, assuming that’s what she’d been doing in the first place.

  Brooke would have gotten it right. Brooke would have been naked with that man in ten seconds flat, and there’d be no question about anything but a good time for them both.

  Why wasn’t she the sort of woman who had hot one-night stands with handsome men? Maybe it was her inherent shyness, her need for solitude, and her inability to put herself forward when rejection was such a strong possibility. She wasn’t a cute little package like Brooke. She wasn’t petite. She was tall and awkward and ordinary.

  And she was a coward. She’d never in her life leapt into a man’s arms just because she wanted to. She took her time, got to know someone, and had the most boring sex imaginable.

  Just once, she wanted the hot, no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, rock-her-world sexual experience.

  Grace swiped angry, frustrated tears from her cheeks. Damn Garrett Spencer and his decency. She didn’t want decent.

  But she didn’t know how to get what she wanted, so she went over and stripped the covers back on the bed. Then she lay down and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t happen. Thunder sounded in the distance, and a flash of light lit up her room, followed by another, much closer peal of thunder. She got up and padded over to the sliding glass door. It opened onto a deck that ran the length of the cabin. She stepped outside, the cool air cutting into the silk of her pajamas.

  But she didn’t care, because she was hot and frustrated and the coolness felt good. Her nipples beaded against the fabric, and she went over to the railing and gripped it tight. She couldn’t see what was out there until the lightning flashed. Woods. Lots and lots of trees.

  “What the fuck are you doing out here, Grace?”

  His voice was a growl in the darkness, and she whirled to find Garrett approaching. She hadn’t heard him come outside. Or maybe he’d been out here all along, and she just hadn’t realized it.

  Her temper spiked. “Waiting to place my order for a sandwich—what do you think?”