Forget Me Not (33 page)

Helen looked up from the still figure, dumbstruck.

"Go," Gabe instructed her, pulling the pistol from his waistband. "Run down the beach and get Master Chief. Hurry!"

"But..." She didn't understand what was happening.

"Now! That way!" He propelled her in the direction that Master Chief and Leila had most likely taken, and when he was satisfied that she was safely out of range of the bungalow, he slipped around the nearest corner, calling on his training to keep his panic subdued.

He'd rescued too many hostages to count, but not once had the hostage been a member of his family. He hoped to God Mallory wasn't hurt. He strained his ears for any sounds coming from within the building, but all was quiet.

Drifting in the shadows on the dark side of the building, he longed to take a peek inside. Maybe Mal wasn't even in there. Maybe they were keeping her somewhere else.

But then he heard it, a muffled cry followed by an ugly thump.

Jesus! Shit!
That was Mallory's voice he'd just heard! No doubt she'd been trying to warn him, and her bravery had just been met with a ruthless countermeasure.

Helen would never forgive him if something happened to her daughter. He refused to believe they would kill the kid. It was him they were after. He allowed himself a moment of dread-filled relief. At least he knew for sure he wasn't paranoid.

He crept toward the rear window. The blinds were pulled. He put his eyeball to the screen and caught sight of a figure slumped low in a chair.
Mallory,
he realized with a shudder of rage. She'd been gagged. Her entire body looked limp, telling him she'd slumped into a faint.

Son of a bitch!
He was going to kill the bastard that hurt her. His gaze scanned the room and discerned the outline of a man standing by the door—the one named Manning, who'd come after him that morning with a laser sight. He, too, was dressed like a cop.

The fact that he wasn't pacing made Gabe uneasy. The man was standing perfectly still, listening. Suddenly he cut his gaze to the window, looking directly at him.

Gabe ducked out of sight The single light inside went out, farmer proof that the man inside was an expert. Who but a professional would be sent to take out a SEAL?

Gabe backed up quickly, careful not to make a sound, desperate to get himself out of the open.

The sound of breaking glass encouraged him to run.

Floop!
A bullet hit the sand directly in front of him, fired by a gun with a silencer—a suppressed Heckler and Koch by the sound of it.
Floop!
The man discharged another bullet, this one narrowly missing Gabe's heel.

It was pure luck that the land dipped downward at that point. Gabe dived into the natural trench, maneuvering himself to face the bungalow while pulling the Glock 23 from his shin strap. He peeked between two clumps of sea grass and took aim at the building. His attacker ducked out of sight.

Gabe didn't want his bullet striking Mallory. He refused to consider that she might be dead already.

Were these the same men that had killed Ernest Forrester? The question streaked through his mind, intersecting with thoughts about his current situation.

He needed to think of a plan before his opponent threatened to use Mallory as a shield. God, he should have let Rodriguez tag along. His only hope was for Helen to find Sebastian. He would need the Sandman to take this bastard out without jeopardizing the kid's life.

The temptation was too much.

With her feet buried in the still-warm sand, Leila could see Sebastian in the indigo shadows that followed sunset. He looped under the waves like a porpoise, hair sleeked back, skin glimmering. He'd offered to give her a baby.

A baby! An infant to cradle against her breast and cherish. Their child would have black hair like the two of them, golden brown skin, and dark, liquid eyes. She would be exquisite! Intelligent like the master chief of SEAL Team Twelve. Delicate, like her mother.

Oh, but it wasn't really the baby she was thinking of as Sebastian shot up out of the water, shaking droplets from his hair. Standing in the sea, he looked like a lean Poseidon. He hiked his sagging boxers higher on his hips, and she knew a raw urge to march up to him and tug them off.

Desire pooled in her belly. She wanted to feel him pressed against her. All she had to do was join him in the sea. He'd left the decision up to her. She gnawed on her lower lip, pride battling temptation.

Yes, she wanted it badly enough to sacrifice her dignity. Gathering the material of her dress, she pulled it over her head. Wind caressed her torso and thighs, stirring downy hairs and rousing her to exquisite sensitivity. She abandoned the protection of the dunes and approached the waves.

Sebastian had caught sight of her undressing. He stood just before the breakers as if locked in place, water seething about his thighs as he regarded her approach. The closer she came, the more she could feel the heat of his gaze scorching her. He made her feel so alluring, so wanton.

Self-consciously, she stepped into the surf. The warm water lapped about her ankles, her calves, and higher as she waded toward him.

He held out his arms, and she slipped into them on a sigh of surrender. Their mouths came together in the next instant, hot and wet, merging.

Leila lost her orientation. Behind her closed eyes, the world seemed to spin, the sky and sea commingling in dizzy shades of cobalt, blue, and black. She surrendered herself to the euphoria, the same exhilaration she'd felt in Sebastian's arms three long months ago.

Allah, but the man knew how to kiss!
His tongue devoured her, worshiped her, tasted corners of her mouth she'd never given a thought to before. And all she could do was cling to him and moan, and let him have his way.

It was impossible to overlook the fact that he was as eager for her as she was for him. His hands roamed her freely, heightening her awareness. He spanned her narrow waist; slid one hand up and over her breast, dampening her bra. With his other hand, he cupped her bottom, rocking her against him.

Leila crowded closer to keep from melting into the sea and sand. Without warning, he scooped her into his arms and began to stride toward the dunes. She clung to him, licking the salt off his neck with shameful greed, running her hands over his powerful shoulders, raking her nails lightly over his back. How good it felt to abandon her rigid code of ethics. She should have done so earlier.

He growled deep in his throat. "You make me the happiest man alive," he admitted.

His declaration warmed her, for she sensed the words were true.

He lowered her onto the center of the blanket. There was just enough light left to make out every detail of his silhouette: his sculpted torso; a hawklike face with a mouth curved into a sensual half smile; and eyes gleaming with such desire that her toes curled inward.

Her bra fastened in the front With a sound of approval, he unhooked the clasp with dexterous fingers, peeling back the sodden fabric. She arched unconsciously, craving the heat of his mouth on her. He answered her silent plea with inexorable nips and licks, making her want to sob for mercy.

Then his mouth moved lower. As he hovered over the flat plane of her abdomen, his kisses grew tender, and she wondered with a stab of emotion if he were thinking of the baby he'd promised to give her. For the first time ever, it occurred to her that he would have feelings for his child.

Suddenly their agreement seemed too complex. Sebastian wouldn't just impregnate her and leave it at that. Oh, what had she agreed to? She couldn't...

He was pulling her panties down, inch by inch, causing her thoughts to fly away like dried leaves. His lips followed his fingers. She didn't dare look to see what he was doing or else she'd climax embarrassingly early. It was enough to
feel
him, fingers brushing the inside of her thighs, his tongue leaving damp traces at it roused her to unbearable sensitivity.

The small portion of her brain that was still functioning registered that this seduction was completely irrelevant to their agreement. Babies weren't made with oral sex. But, oh, she couldn't make him stop. Not when the firm tip of his tongue finally slipped into the place where she wanted it most

Allah and all the prophets!
She writhed beneath the tender lashing, fisting the blanket to keep herself from grabbing his hair and locking him there shamelessly. He knew exactly how to please a woman, his timing flawless. She felt a flash of jealousy for all the women who had enjoyed his generous skill. Sebastian was hers alone!

The crazy thought penetrated her brain in the same instant that she climaxed. It caused her orgasm to be intense, both emotionally and physically.
He is mine! All mine! Oh, yes!

She lay in its wake, utterly drained and at the same time terrified. What had she done? Hadn't the experience three months ago taught her anything? Didn't she know how vulnerable her heart was to love? For now she wanted more than just a baby. She wanted Sebastian to love her mindlessly, completely, forever!

One orgasm, and already she was dreaming of a future. Yet Sebastian León was a SEAL, married to his job. Those were his very words, words he'd told her three months ago to explain why he'd never married. She was setting herself up for disaster.

She had to say something. He was shucking his boxer shorts with one hand, holding all his weight on the opposite elbow. If his eyes glowed with desire earlier, they glittered with lust now. With his underwear still on his thighs, he positioned himself over her, probing her entrance with his hot insistence.

"Wait!" she cried, pushing against his shoulder. Yet at the same time, her body betrayed her and she lifted her hips in welcome.

He slid into her tightness with such single-minded intent that she gasped in further protests. It wouldn't be fair of her to call a halt to this now. Besides, he was filling her so completely, it was impossible to ask him to stop. Urgent feelings stormed her senses.

If he only knew how many times she'd lain in bed aching for a repeat of that tempestuous May night!

And then he began to move and the past was gone. There was only the present and the future. The agonizing glory of Sebastian sliding in and out of her; the salty taste of his tongue moving in tandem with his body as he kissed her; the feel of his callused palm against her bare buttocks, lifting her to him. Her thighs straining, another climax lifting her higher and higher.

Why had she resisted him so long? This was the epitome of fulfillment. This was paradise.

But then she remembered. Oh, yes, there was a serpent in paradise.

Just as she was about to explode a second time, a cry penetrated her sensual haze and Sebastian froze. The cry came again, it was a woman yelling,
"Master Chief!"

Sebastian pulled out of Leila so quickly and was scrambling over the sand dunes, tugging his boxer shorts up before Leila had even determined who the woman was calling for. She lay there befuddled, achingly unfulfilled and disoriented, regretting already the bargain she'd struck to make a baby.

I
t took Sebastian a moment to calm Helen down to where her disjointed message made any sense. And then it clicked. Their suspicion that someone might come after Jaguar was being realized. He'd been lured into a net, where Mallory, his stepdaughter, was being used as bait. So, where the hell was Rodriguez, who was supposed to be guarding Gabe's back?

"He told me to come get you," Helen added out of breath. "Hurry!" She tugged at his bare arm, apparently not even realizing that he only wore his boxer shorts. Of course it was nearly pitch-black now that the sun had sunk out of sight.

Sebastian sent a distracted look over his shoulder. He could make out Leila's head and shoulders as she peered over the dunes at them.
Mierda,
he thought. "Just a minute." He sprinted back toward the dunes, not wanting to shout.

"I'll be back, Leila," he said, reaching for her slim shadow. Her skin felt so soft beneath his touch he was consumed with regret. "There's trouble. Don't leave this place, whatever you do. Stay down and out of sight."

"What—"

He cut off her question with a quick kiss. Snatching up his slacks, he hightailed it back to Helen, who was literally pulling her hair out.

"Where are they?" he asked her as he stepped into his pants.

"At the information center. Hurry!" She started running.

"Wait, I'll go alone," he told her. "Stay there in the dunes with Leila. It'll be safer that way."

"I can't!" she cried. "They have my daughter!"

He put a heavy hand on both her shoulders. "I need you to stay here," he said in his best no-nonsense voice. "We can't afford to be distracted."

Even in the dark, he could see her eyes fill with helpless tears. "Go," he said, nudging her toward the dunes. "Stay with Leila until we return for you."

As she trudged reluctantly to higher ground, Sebastian took off at his fastest run. Minutes later, with the silhouette of the bungalow in sight, he gave a low bird whistle, a signal to Gabe that he was present. An answering call came from a swale to his left.

Sebastian dropped to the sand and elbow-crawled through the prickly grasses, taking care to remain behind a barrier at all times. A good pair of night-vision goggles would expose him, otherwise. Inch by inch, he worked his way through the valleys of sand to where Gabe was lying in wait.

"Glad to see you, Sebastian," Gabe whispered, keeping his head low. "There's one man inside and another lying on the front stoop, unconscious."

"Where's Rodriguez?" Sebastian inquired, peeved that a simple order hadn't been followed.

"Not his fault," Jaguar said. "I left him at your place. I had no idea this was a setup."

Thank God he just happened to be here with Leila. "Weapons?" he inquired, making a sign of the cross, as was his habit before engaging the enemy.

"He's got a hushpuppy ... I've got the Glock you gave me.

"Can he see?"

"Roger. I caught a reflection of his NVGs when a plane went by. My daughter's in there," Jaguar added, his whisper sounding strained. "He knocked her out or something."