A Love For Always (6 page)

Sylvie made a sniffling acknowledgement and looked out her window. Nate sighed, and started the car. He was taking her to his house. On the drive home, he thought he spotted a tail, but the suspicious vehicle took the ramp two exits before his. He mentally calculated routes to his house from that exit. It would take an extra twenty minutes. He had to remain vigilant, and he would definitely raise hell if the DEA decided to bust his house tonight.
 

When he was on his street, Sylvie turned to look at him. “You still live at the same house?”

“Yep.”

“Are you taking me home afterward?”

“Nope.”

“Nate—”

“Don’t fight me tonight, Sylvs,” Nate said gruffly. “The situation is volatile right now. I don’t want you out of my sight.”

Her body stiffened. “What do you mean? I thought you said—”

“Shit. I don’t want to alarm you.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “Just . . . let me think.”

Nate frequently operated on gut instinct, and his gut was usually right. He didn’t regret fucking up the DEA’s plans, but there were too many unknowns for his liking. He was less worried about the DEA and more concerned about Sylvie’s contact because Nate planned on keeping the drugs out of their hands.

He punched the button for his garage and zipped his SUV in right beside his Ferrari. Sylvie slid out of his vehicle. She was so tiny; it was a wonder he didn’t need to boost her up into his SUV in the first place.
 

Sylvie had been in his house countless times, though not in the last fifteen months. Well, she was back, and if he had his way, she wasn’t leaving.

*****

“Looks the same.”

Her eyes roamed the expanse of Nate’s house. There was no question it was a bachelor pad. Leather seats, widescreen TV, and what looked like an expensive surround-sound system.
 

“Is there an approval there somewhere?” Nate remarked, walking into the kitchen.

“I’m just stating an observation,” Sylvie replied. “You still use a cleaning service?” She marveled at the uncluttered space. Nate had never been a slob, but he hadn’t been a neat freak either. He was just, well, a guy.

“Um-hum,” Nate affirmed. “Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got soda and beer.” He had the refrigerator door open and looked at her briefly. “Unless you want something stronger.”

Liquid courage. However, now was not the time to lose her wits.

“Do you have Coke?”

Nate grinned. “Yup.” He grabbed a can of soda, flicked the tab, and handed it to her before getting a beer for himself.

He nodded to the couch, indicating for her to sit. Sylvie took a gulp of her drink and sank into the soft leather furniture.

Nate fixed her with a piercing stare.

“Okay, Sylvie, no more stalling. Tell me what trouble you’re in.”
 

“I don’t want you getting involved, Nate.”

“I’m already involved.”

“Further, I mean.” Sylvie rubbed her brow. She was getting a headache.

“Let me see,” Nate regarded her for long moments before relaxing against the couch. “I bet your dad is the instigator of this whole mess. You think I’m going to let my woman face the Asian Crime Syndicate and the DEA alone?”

“I’m not your woman.” Sylvie glared at him.
 

“Whatever you say, babe,” Nate murmured, a grin curving his lips before he disguised it with another pull from his beer.

Infuriating man.

“Although,” Nate lowered the bottle, still amused, “after everything I’ve said, that’s all you picked up on? Did you miss the part where I mentioned the Asian mafia and the DEA?”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re finding all this funny.”

“Believe me, I’m not. But you’re tense enough for the both of us.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Sylvie, as heartening as your desire is to keep me out of your troubles, I’m really losing patience.” Nate’s smile tightened and the amusement vanished from his eyes only to be replaced by stone-cold determination. “You know it will only be a matter of time before I get to the bottom of this, so why don’t you save me the time and trouble?”

He was right. It was early on in their friendship when Sylvie had discovered the futility of keeping secrets from Nate. They had kept in contact when she did her culinary apprenticeship in Japan, however, she had refused to meet up with him in Tokyo. One day, he surprised her by turning up at the restaurant she was working in. Nate told her she couldn’t hide anything from him. To her shock, he divulged that he knew her father was the ACS big boss, but refused to say how he found out. It was because of this knowledge he had to fly out and see her to make sure she was okay. Of course meeting up with him had raised all kinds of alarms in her father’s organization, but Nate was not worried. Apparently, he had a solid cover as a sales executive for a multinational toy company. Sylvie had no doubt he worked for a clandestine agency. She’d asked him once, and he shut that down. Ever since then, it was almost like an unspoken agreement between them to not discuss or so much as hint about his job.

“A year and a half ago, Nana was diagnosed with a rare form of liver disease,” Sylvie said, staring at a spot on the coffee table.
 

“I remember you telling me about it,” Nate said. “This was right after you opened your restaurant and before you told me not to contact you anymore.”

Still not looking at Nate, she continued, “The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. It wasn’t cirrhosis or cancer.”

“Is she a candidate for a transplant?”

Sylvie shook her head. “Nana is seventy-two, and with the idiopathic nature of her disease, they couldn’t offer her a place on the transplant list not knowing if there were other factors outside the liver that were causing its deterioration.”

“The GDE pills,” Nate led in a speculative tone. “I’ve read its indications that it’s good for the liver. Is that what this is all about Sylvie?”

“Yes and no.” She finally locked eyes with Nate. “I don’t know who the final recipients are for these pills. When I was in Japan, they were popular supplements offered in cosmetic surgery offices as well as in popular party districts.” When Sylvie worked for an establishment in the Roppongi area, GDE pills were sold alongside the hallucinogenic drugs trafficked by her father’s cronies. “I have my suspicion they are being used for some sort of underground clinical trials here. I’m not sure if it’s for cosmetic or medical benefits.”

“But?” Nate prompted when Sylvie paused for long moments.

“Nana doesn’t take the pills. I exchange the shipment for a concentrated GDE serum. ”

“What?” His eyes narrowed. “Sylvie, are you saying you receive a different version of the GDE?”

She nodded. “Six months with no improvement, we were desperate. Nana was getting so weak. My father sent his lieutenant with a syringe of the drug therapy and some literature on some Swedish clinical trials using it. Based on Nana’s blood work, which I have no idea how he’d gotten his hands on, she needed at least eight shots to be fully well.”

“How many have you given her?”

“Six.”

“And the results?”

“Amazing. Her own doctor is baffled at her outstanding recovery, but she’s not in the clear yet.”

“Sylvie, will she need some type of maintenance?”

“Dad said no—”

Nate snorted a mirthless laugh, prompting a glare from her, but the grim lines etched on his face silenced her retort. “You trust your father?”

“I have no choice.”

“So you’ll forever be his puppet?”
 

“Are you suggesting I let Nana die?”

“No, dammit,” Nate growled. “She doesn’t know about your arrangement with your father, does she?” Seeing the expression on her face, he continued, “You think when the shit hits the fan, she wouldn’t feel as if you’ve killed her anyway?”

Nate’s words sliced through her. All the guilt she’d been harboring about lying to her grandma came to the fore.
 

“Fuck you, Nate!” Sylvie jumped to her feet, her soda sloshing against her, but she didn’t give a crap.

“Sit your ass down,” Nate snapped.

She ignored him and stomped to the kitchen. She dumped her soda into the sink and threw the can in the recycling bin. She was fuming, but she didn’t know whether it was at Nate or at herself. When she turned, she slammed into a brick wall of muscle. Nate’s hands circled her wrists, but she yanked them away and grabbed her phone from her purse.

“What are you doing?” His tone was low and menacing enough to make her pause.

“Calling a cab,” she groused, not looking at him. “I don’t need this crap from you. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t have a frigging clue—umph!”

Sylvie found herself upside down, looking at a very nice masculine butt.
 

Nate just tossed her over his shoulder!
 

How dare he?

“Nate, you freaking Neanderthal. Put me down!”

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You were out of line!” Her voice jarred as he carried her up the stairs. She didn’t dare wiggle; she’d rather not be dropped on her head. Her heart slammed in her chest when Nate turned into the first room—his bedroom. “I’m not sleeping with you!”

“Fucking you is the last thing on my mind right now.” He walked straight into his closet and pulled out a shirt. “Spanking your ass is more like what I’m feeling.”

“Put me down.”

“I’m kinda enjoying this moment.”

Sylvie huffed in irritation. “Well, it’s getting uncomfortable.”

“You’ll live.”

Argghhhh!

Finally she was lowered to her feet. She barely had a chance to look around the room in which he’d installed her when a shirt was shoved at her. “Strip.”

“What? No!”

“Sylvie, take off your clothes so I can throw them in the wash. You splashed soda all over your front. Besides, I’m not letting you out of my house until I figure out how to handle this mess you’ve created.”

“I told you—”

“I know. And I’m sorry if my words hurt you, but you know I speak the truth, Sylvs.” Nate’s eyes were tender and remorseful at the same time. “Nana will not be happy with this shit you got yourself into.”

“I just—” She couldn’t say it.
I just can’t let Nana die.

Strong arms drew her into a comforting hug. Nate’s warm breath fanned her cheek as he said quietly, “I’m here, Sylvs. You’re not going to face this alone, okay?”

His words washed over her and eased the anxiety holding her bones and muscles rigid. Relaxing into him, she surrendered all her troubles and problems to him if only for tonight.

*****

Nate couldn’t sleep. He had a fucking hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
 

He hadn’t jacked off in years. He had no shortage of women, and despite the image he projected as a manwhore, he had the training to rein in his libido. Hell, he’d gone undercover for months in scenarios where you couldn’t even trust the woman you fucked. What his handler advised him was:
Never lose your head over a woman or you’ll really lose your head
.

What he had forgotten was the effect of seeing Sylvie in one of his shirts. The last time was when they’d been
together
nine years ago. Though most of his assignments were with the CIA when he was with the Army Special Forces, Nate had just officially transitioned to the Agency during that time. He was splitting his time between Langley and The Farm—the CIA training facility. Sylvie had moved to DC to work as a temporary sous chef for a famous Japanese restaurant. He’d known better than to start a relationship, and he made it clear to Sylvie he wasn’t sticking around. She was of the same mind since she was waiting for her apprenticeship assignments in Japan to come through. Nate clearly didn’t play by his own rules, and his feelings were more involved than he anticipated. So much so when his CIA handler had noticed Nate’s preoccupation with spending time with Sylvie, he had a serious chat with him. He warned Nate not to form attachments because his first mission was in the works, and he would be gone for a while. The call came three months into his affair with her. They never moved in together, so no one had to move out, but it almost killed Nate to let her go. He couldn’t just end it and walk away, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave her hanging, not knowing when he was going to see her again. Desperate to have her in his life in any way, he pushed for friendship and buried his feelings for her fucking deep inside him the way he’d been taught at The Farm.

And it worked for years. A dissonance in his emotions would ripple every now and then, but he’d manage to keep what he felt for her on lockdown. Maybe that was why his girlfriends complained that he was emotionally unavailable because he’d saved that part of himself for Sylvie. Now he’d set it free. It was consuming him, burning through him so brightly, he was afraid he’d simply pounce on her and take her.

Tonight was torture. She had taken a shower and shuffled to the living room where he was watching TV. His shirt hung loosely on her petite form, hitting her mid-thigh. Nate noticed her heightened color and assumed it was the effect of the hot shower, but her body language indicated something else. Sexual tension. She had her soiled clothes bunched up in front of her.

“Can I use your”—Sylvie cleared her throat—“washing machine?”

Nate reached for her clothes. “I’ll do it.” The back of his hand definitely brushed a taut nipple.
 

Fuck. No bra.
 

His eyes zeroed in on the bundle in her arms that he was in the process of taking from her.

“No!” she squeaked, pulling back. “I know where the utility room is. I just thought I’d ask.”

A wicked thought spurred him to find out more. “Sylvie . . .”

He tugged, the bundle unraveled and a tiny scrap of clothing fell to the floor.

Fuck. She’s totally naked under the shirt.

Sylvie, blushing furiously, yanked her clothes free of Nate and crouched on the floor to pick up her panties.

“Uh . . .” Nate stepped back and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“You did that on purpose.” Emerald eyes flashed at him accusingly.