Hot Rebel Page 19
He hoped like hell they were because he wanted Victoria to be happy. He wanted it with a strength that surprised him, in fact. More than that, he wanted her. Naked and leaning over him, her face contorted with pleasure as he stroked hard into her. God, he loved the way she looked when he took her.
Like she’d found heaven on earth. Like she was continually surprised at what her body could do when he made love to her.
She laid her head back on the seat and rolled her gaze toward him. When he looked at her, she smiled, and his heart gave a hard thump in his chest.
What the fuck was that?
“Whatever happens now, I want you to know how perfect you made my first time. And my second, third, fourth…” She laughed. “All my times, really. What a stud you are, Nick Brandon.”
He laughed, though he was still trying to puzzle out what this sharpness in his chest was. “Yeah, if only you’d realized it back in sniper training.”
“Yep, you could have tortured me with pleasure instead of harassing me with words. What a beautiful way to go that would have been.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Now that he knew her better, he knew she’d taken his trash-talking more seriously than she should have.
“I’m sorry for that. I told you why I did it.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know. Competition, blah blah blah. Over and done.”
She sat back again. Her brows drew down as she watched the scenery pass them by.
“Leaving is the right thing to do,” he told her, knowing what she was thinking. “Mendez will find Emily.”
“I feel like she’s there, waking up in Ras al-Dura right now, and I’m doing nothing but putting miles between us. It feels wrong, Nick.”
He gripped the wheel harder. “It’s not wrong. HOT will find her.”
Victoria’s head whipped around. “Did you just say HOT? My God, I thought that was a myth. A shadowy special-ops team more secretive than Delta Force—and with more money and less restrictions on how they operate.”
He almost groaned. Shit, she was affecting his ability to compartmentalize the job. Not a good thing.
“I can neither confirm nor deny,” he said, and even he knew it sounded like a load of bullshit when he said it. Busted.
She whistled softly. “I’m impressed. It was always a rumor, but no one ever had proof. If you’re a sniper for them… wow. I’d have loved to get recruited for HOT.” She frowned. “Do they even take women?”
He thought of Lucky MacDonald. “It’s beginning to happen, yeah.”
“Awesome.”
She didn’t say anything for a couple of miles, and he wondered if he should ask what she was thinking.
“One of the things I hated about the Army,” she said, “was how hard it was to get to do what I was good at. On the one hand, the Army is awesome for making changes and being blind once they’ve done so—gays in the service, for instance—but let a woman into a Special Forces group? Hell, no.”
“Change takes time.”
“Ian didn’t give a fuck that I didn’t have a dick. To him, the ability was all that mattered.”
Nick ground his teeth together. Sometimes he hated the way she said that man’s name. “I don’t think Ian Black had the leisure to be picky.”
Wrong thing to say, dude.
He could feel Victoria bristling like a porcupine.
“So if he could be picky, then he wouldn’t choose a mere woman like me to do the job, is that it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She huffed out a breath. “Believe it or not, I know. But it still pisses me off. If you were a woman, you’d know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“If I were a woman, you wouldn’t have screamed my name six times last night.”
She was silent for a long moment. And then she laughed. “Touché, asshole.”
Warmth spread through his bones, his blood. Goddamn, he really liked this woman. She never backed down. She gave as good as she got, but she had that aura of sweetness and vulnerability to her that he couldn’t help but be drawn to. She brought out his protective instincts, even though he was pretty certain she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
He liked her. Really liked her.
But once this mission was over, he’d probably never see her again. They’d go their separate ways. Him to HOT, her back to the States and her sister if everything went as she hoped.
This time together, this mission, was all they had. For some reason, that bothered him more than it should.
*
After sharing driving duties, they reached the last checkpoint at nine o’clock that night. It had been a long day filled with tension and urgency, but at last it was time to pull over and get a few hours’ rest before continuing. The desert was dark and cold, a change from the blazing heat of the day. Several cars were clustered on the side of the road, the occupants resting before continuing toward their destinations across the vast emptiness of Qu’rim.
Victoria checked her phone for messages. She’d shut it off while they were driving, but periodically she would turn it on and check. There’d been nothing for hours. Now, however, there was a text from Ian.
Good job at the consulate. I wasn’t certain you’d do it.
Her fingers flew over the keypad even while her heart throbbed with anger. Why were you there?
“Who is it?” Nick asked, glancing over at her.
“Ian.”
“Fuck, he must be out of custody.”
She waited for an answer to her question, but there wasn’t one. “Your people didn’t hold him for long.” She didn’t know why she felt a twinge of relief, but she did. “He didn’t have the virus on him, obviously.”
Nick found a spot and pulled the parking brake. “What the fuck did he do with it?”
“Maybe he never had it. Maybe Chernovsky didn’t bring it.”
“It’s possible. But Ian was there for a reason. You saw him drop something, Victoria. Chernovsky picked it up and followed him, which indicated he’d been waiting for that meeting.”
“That’s also what gave us a clear shot.” She closed her eyes. “I hate everything about this. I hate that you and your colonel bribed me into working for your organization, I hate that Ian showed up in Ras al-Dura and made you both seem rational, I hate that I doubt him and second-guess everything he tells me now. I hate that I keep looking for a connection to the Freedom Force and that I’m afraid he kept me from Emily on purpose in order to make me do his bidding.”
He reached for her, unclipping her seat belt and dragging her into his arms. She stiffened at first, but then she went willingly. A wave of emotion engulfed her as he held her close, as if she were something precious to him. Why did she feel such passion and belonging when he held her?
It was needy, and she wasn’t accustomed to being needy. That was Emily’s modus operandi, not hers. She didn’t need a man. The only thing she needed was to protect her sister, and she would sacrifice a lot to do that.
He laid his cheek against her head. “I’m sorry I ever told the colonel it was you who ruined the mission. If I hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t be here.”
She smoothed her hand over his chest, his arm. It was such a sweet thing for him to say because she knew how pissed he’d been that day. “I’m not sorry. Who would have shot those men in Akhira if you hadn’t been under orders to find me?”
“Fuck,” he breathed, squeezing her close. “If I’d lost you that day…”
Her heart jumped, pounding suddenly in her chest. If he’d lost her? She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight. Maybe he was as overwhelmed by this thing between them as she was.
“Nick,” she said, because she couldn’t say anything else.
His mouth sought hers and found it, his tongue stroking hers so expertly that she could have cried. Oh God, how she loved his tongue. Loved his body.
Loved him.
No. The minute she thought it, she imm
ediately told herself it wasn’t true. She didn’t love Nick Brandon. She didn’t know Nick Brandon.
He was a man she was attracted to, a man she’d given her virginity to, but that didn’t have a goddamn thing to do with love. She wasn’t Emily, searching for love and desperately clinging to the first man who made her feel wanted and alive. She wouldn’t make Emily’s mistakes, defining herself by a man, losing herself to a man.
God, no. Hell, no.
She stiffened in his embrace and he sensed it immediately, easing his hold on her until she could push herself away and retreat to her own space.
She could feel his eyes on her, questioning her. But he didn’t say anything. The silence grew thick, hard.
She glanced at him, but she couldn’t keep her eyes on his.
“We should sleep,” she said, her voice rusty. “It’s a long drive tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll take shifts.”
“You sleep first.”
He was looking straight ahead. “No, you go. I can’t sleep right now.”
Her heart hurt. She wanted to reach for him. Tell him she was sorry for pushing him away but that the things swirling inside her were too strong, too frightening, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with them just yet.
“Wake me in a couple of hours.”
It was dark, but she could see the hard set of his jaw. It made her ache.
“I’ll wake you. Now go.”
She crawled over the seats and into the back. They’d put the seat down before they’d started this journey, arranging the packs closest to the front and leaving the space behind empty. It wasn’t as roomy as the Land Rover, but it was enough for her to curl into. She lay on her side, her heart aching with regret and anger.
She wanted his body wrapped around hers like it had been last night, his warmth cocooning her, his presence making her feel safe and loved.
Loved? She blinked back hot tears.
There was no love here. Only heat and passion—and a need that would burn out given time. Except they were running out of time. Once they reached Baq and his people got what they wanted from Ian, this was over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ian Black was fucking pissed. He hadn’t intended to go to Ras al-Dura, but when Victoria had threatened to quit, he hadn’t trusted that she’d go through with the job. And the job was much too important to leave it to chance.
Hell, right up until the minute she’d fired, he still hadn’t been sure. It’s why he’d had to be there. If she hadn’t killed Chernovsky, then he would have. Maybe he should have just done the job himself in the first place, but he had too many irons in the fire and not enough time to be everywhere he needed to be.
This is why he hired people, goddammit.
Victoria had been reliable for two years. She was a professional who did the work and left emotion out of the equation. God knows he’d admired that about her. He’d thought they were alike. He’d thought there was quite possibly something there between them that would still be there when things were different.
He’d been wrong.
He didn’t have to ask himself what had changed to know why she’d suddenly turned confrontational with him.
Nick Brandon was what had changed. Since the moment that cocky asshole had swaggered into the cafe, Ian had known he was trouble.
Ian stuffed his tie in his pocket and undid the buttons on his tuxedo shirt. The soldier across from him didn’t look happy. And he wouldn’t be, since he’d just had to hand Ian back his phone and wallet. Ian had promptly texted Victoria, partly as a “fuck you” to this guy and also because he wanted to know if she’d made it out. Relief had flooded him at the evidence she had.
It was all he needed to know.
The man across from him watched with interest. He wanted to know what Ian was doing here, no doubt about it, but there were reasons Ian was able to operate the way he did.
Powerful reasons.
It had taken these guys a few more hours than Ian would have liked to learn they’d have to let him go, but now he was free. He stood and gave the soldier a look. He knew the man was special operations. He could always spot a highly trained and disciplined warrior when he saw one—perhaps because he was one too.
Except that he operated alone. Even with a team around him, he was alone. Victoria was certainly proof of that since she’d abandoned him too. Or worse.
It was most interesting that a spec-ops team had descended on the consulate after the hit. He didn’t think it was a coincidence they’d been waiting. And they’d been looking for him, which most definitely wasn’t a coincidence. Since no one had known he would be in Ras al-Dura until the last possible minute, he was intrigued that they’d seemed to expect him.
Ian got to his feet slowly and stretched as if he had all the leisure in the world. The other man stood too.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” he said. And then he headed for the door.
Another soldier opened it for him and Ian walked through, whistling as he went.
He kept whistling until he reached the darkened street. And then he took his phone out and sent another text. Within moments, his phone would be wiped remotely. Another few minutes, and it would all be restored but without whatever extra software his captors had installed. He knew they hadn’t opened the phone because it would have destructed had they done so.
Amateurs, he thought, strolling down the sidewalk. When he reached an open cafe, he ducked inside and waited. Once his phone was restored, he made two calls—one to the airport and the plane he had waiting, and another to Washington.
“This had better be good, Black,” a voice growled on the other end.
“Trust me, Congressman, it is.”
*
Victoria was jolted awake by shouting. She shot upright, reaching for her guns. Nick was already cranking the motor into life.
“What’s happening?”
“The opposition seems to have cut off the road.”
Victoria climbed into the front seat, her heart pounding as she cradled her assault rifle in her lap. The lights of many cars started snapping on, and people scrambled to get moving before they were caught in the opposition army’s trap.
Nick didn’t bother following the pack. Instead, he took the Jeep wide, driving into the desert and away from the road. Suddenly they were rolling down a sharp incline, and Victoria snapped a hand up to press against the roof while propping her foot on the dash.
They’d gone over a dune, which wasn’t necessarily a problem if you knew to expect it, but she wasn’t sure that Nick had known. Still, he rolled the wheel back and forth, keeping the Jeep as straight as possible as they rocketed down the side of the massive ridge.
When they hit the bottom, the Jeep bounced hard. Victoria thought her teeth would come out of her head as her jaws cracked together.
Nick whipped the wheel left and pressed the accelerator. They bounced along, parallel to the dune, the lights shining on nothing but sand and more sand up ahead.
Victoria gripped the rifle tighter, ready to blast anyone who got in their way.
“How did you know it was the opposition?” she asked.
“Lucky MacDonald.”
“What?”
“A teammate who’s fluent in several dialects. She taught me some useful words and phrases. Not to mention the way everyone panicked—that was a dead giveaway we shouldn’t stick around.”
“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” The desert was rolling by fast, but there were no landmarks, no indication they were even going the right way.
“North. If we outflank the opposition army, we can rejoin the highway a few miles up the road. If we’re lucky.”
She wasn’t sure they would be, but she’d have done the same thing in his place. It was best to get away from the crowd and not get funneled into a trap somewhere they couldn’t escape because of all the traffic. “We need a backup plan.”
He shot her a glance. “I’m listening.�
��
“I’m thinking.”
They seemed to be the only ones taking this route. For all they knew, this trench between dunes was taking them east or west, not north—but it was a chance they had to take.
Victoria gripped the dash and prayed they’d get out of this alive. Something flashed in the distance. She fixed her gaze on the spot and tried to determine if there was something out there or if it was her imagination.
But then it flashed again and she knew it wasn’t her imagination.
Nick had seen it too because he turned the Jeep and started toward the opposite dune. They were nearly there when gunfire sounded—and the Jeep careened out of control before coming to a bone-jarring stop in the sand.
“Nick!” She unclipped her seat belt and scrambled toward him, afraid he’d been hit. He turned his head, his gleaming eyes meeting hers.
There was a trickle of blood running down his cheek.
“Are you hit? Talk to me!”
“Shoulder,” he said.
She turned him as much as she could. The blood on his cheek was spatter. The blood oozing from his shoulder was much worse.
Victoria turned and scrambled for the packs. They had first aid, and she found it quickly. She couldn’t search the wound for the bullet now. All she could do was staunch the flow. She ripped open the field dressing.
“Go,” he said. “Run.”
“Fuck no,” she growled, applying the field dressing to the wound and securing it. She didn’t have time to inspect it or rip his T-shirt first. This would have to do until they could get somewhere safe.
“Victoria, get the fuck out.”
“Only if you come with me.”
He studied her in silence.
“Nick, for fuck’s sake, let’s go.”
“Copy,” he said.
She reached over and opened his door. Then she opened hers and ran around to help him out of the Jeep. He had one foot on the sand when she got there.
In the distance, she could hear the roar of an engine and voices shouting in Arabic. But she didn’t see anything yet. They’d hit the dune face-first, burying the front of the Jeep into it. The battery had been disconnected in the impact, most likely, because there were no lights to illuminate the interior. Thank God for modern safety features.