Free Fall (12 page)

And as she was fast learning, this was a two-way street, with her touching him and finding that every stroke brought her as much pleasure as she gave. Her fingers played over the flex of muscles along his chest. She scored her nails lower, his washboard abs twitching into deeper refinement. His skin was like warm butterscotch, tempting her to…

She flicked her tongue along his collarbone, salty sweet and all hers. He ducked to capture her mouth and the minty taste of tea remained. Was everything about him perfect? Even the way he’d handled adversity with a humble strength. God, he was making her fall deeper in love with him by the day. By the hour.

And right now, by the caress.

Backing toward the bed, her legs tangled with his until the mattress met her calves and he lowered her onto the coarse tapestry spread, her feet still hanging off the bed. Before she could think, he knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed and leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to her stomach. His intent became abundantly clear as he hooked her legs over his shoulders and nuzzled the inside of her thigh.

Being so open and vulnerable to him could have been awkward, but everything with Jose just felt natural. Right. And utterly blissful. Pleasure rippled through her with each intuitive stroke of his tongue, every caress of his talented fingers. She ached to be closer to him, to feel him on top of her, inside her, and just the thought of that alone sent her the rest of the way over the edge. Her back arched into the release, again and again, her restless hands grasping at his head, his shoulders, urging him upward.

Somewhere in a distant functioning part of her brain she noticed how he sheathed himself before sliding upward, kneeling over her, moving with her up the bed. Every rasp against her super-sensitized skin made her shiver with aftershocks as she inched toward the piled pillows.

Her head sunk back into the downy softness as she clasped at Jose’s shoulders, unrecognizable murmurs rolling from her as she urged him closer. Yet, he still held back, driving her crazy with his mouth along her breasts up to her neck, until finally, thank God, finally he kissed her with an incredible mixture of passion and tenderness. Then thrust inside her, stretched her, filled her, and she knew…

Their date, being together was absolutely perfect. So much so it scared her to think of losing him.

Jose sensed the change in Stella when she woke, the way her breathing shifted in their small military quarters. He’d been with her so often, he knew the feel of her body asleep—and awake. She’d woken at least twenty minutes ago, but for whatever reason, she chose to keep her eyes closed while she rested her head on his shoulder.

At least she’d rested for more than six hours since the questioning in the hangar. He sure as hell wasn’t going to argue about holding her. He just stroked his hand along her shoulder, the memory of that night in Egypt so damn real in his head right now, he went hard at the images swimming in his mind. He’d known he loved her but suspected if he said it right after sex, she would have thought he was talking with his dick rather than his heart. So he’d waited for the right moment to tell her.

Not that it all mattered in the end. He should have been smarter, should have seen the train wreck before they both crashed full-on into a massive heartache that was still kicking his ass.

Before he could stop himself—and hell, he didn’t even want to stop—he kissed the top of her head. And how sappy was that? He was all choked up over nuzzling her hair. Her hair, for God’s sake. He’d been with this woman dozens of times, tasted every freckle on her body. He squeezed his eyes closed, resting his forehead on her and just breathing in the unique scent of her that overrode any shampoo.

Her hand fell to rest on his shoulder, signaling she was finally ready to admit to being awake.

He eased back to look in her eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Better, rested. Thank you.” Her fingers trailed down to his chest and his body twitched in reaction. “Jose, it would be horribly cliché of us to kiss right now… or more.”

His body went even harder against his fly in reaction to her words. “Clichés aren’t always bad.”

She closed her eyes tightly, resting her head against his shoulder. “Can we just talk? Just see if we can hang out here together? I don’t want to say good-bye yet, but honest to God, Jose, I can’t go back.”

Did she realize how her nipples beaded against the robe, making him ache to sweep open the neck and take each peak in his mouth?

He decided to take hope from the fact that she wasn’t running out the door. He hugged an arm around her shoulder. “Stay put. The less you move the better it is for both of us.”

She looked up quickly.

He just winked.

Stella relaxed against his side. “I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. This would be much easier if you could be a jackass.”

“There are a lot of things that could make this simpler, but life isn’t going to pave the way for us. So for now, let me just be glad you’re alive and we’ll just ignore the rest.” Like his raging erection. “Anything I can get for you? Food? Something to drink?”

“I’m good now. You were right. I was running on fumes before. I needed to recharge.” Rolling to her back, she pushed a hank of hair off her forehead. “Have you heard anything about the teenager? Or the other hostages?”

Even as they settled into a no-sex agreement, God, how easy it was to lay in a bed together and talk with the familiarity of lovers. How easy it would be to tug the tie on her robe and make them both forget the hellish past four weeks apart.

His hands clenched. “No earth-shattering news. Just a text from Bubbles a couple of hours ago.” He scooped his cell phone off the bedside table and double-checked. No new messages. He tossed it on the bed between them where it bounced once before settling. “The other hostages have been medically evaluated. Everyone was processed separately, so they think you’re simply in another room. Sutton and the others should be flying out and heading home within a few hours.”

“Which technically, I am.” She pushed against the mattress, sitting up.

And driving him crazy with the way her knee peeked between the part in her robe.

She hugged her knees. “And the boy? The code?”

“I’m sure Mr. Smith will contact you once he has something.”

“Waiting is tough.”

He knew that was an understatement for her. He’d seen just how hard it had been for her to walk away from decoding whatever message lurked in that cloth. Stella might not be the most overt with her emotions, but she took her job seriously and her methodical mind had an almost obsessive need to untangle puzzles. He had the feeling she’d probably been trying to break the code from memory even while she’d slept.

“Most high-risk jobs are ninety-nine percent waiting and one percent high-octane insanity.” He should roll out of bed, get dressed, and get the hell out of here. He should. But he stayed right where he was because being tempted with her was less painful than being without her. “You said you came here searching for answers about your mother, that you had unanswered questions about how she died. What do you think happened?”

He genuinely wanted to know, and the conversation seemed to be a safe passion douser. Besides, he understood that she needed a distraction before the mystery code drove her crazy. Knowing she hadn’t told him her suspicions about her mother’s death before now also made him question how close they’d really been before.

“I’m not sure exactly. I was fifteen when she died. The casket was closed.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, the only sign of emotion as she recited the facts coolly. “They said she sustained head injuries. Supposedly, she was alone driving in the rain and that she spun out into a tree. A branch… killed her.”

He didn’t care how calm her voice sounded. No one could be unaffected by that. He took her hand in his, linking fingers. “Not seeing her body had to have made things more difficult.”

“I only said the casket was closed. The funeral director still let us see her after he’d made her more… presentable. Her face was so puffy and distorted…” She swallowed hard. “They had to put a wig on her.”

“Perhaps seeing her wasn’t the best idea for a teenager after all.” He stroked his thumb back and forth along the speeding pulse in her wrist.

“I had nightmares for a long time.” She cut her eyes toward him. “I still do on occasion. Ones where that puffy face with a wig morphs back into the face I remember. She whispers to me to help her…”

“God, Stella…” To hell with distance. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hauled her against his chest.

“Here’s the thing.” She gripped his T-shirt and he knew she held onto her self-control even tighter. “We were also given photos of the accident site and the crumpled vehicle being towed away.”

“Something’s bothering you.” He loved her analytical mind as much as he loved the rest of her. And obviously things hadn’t added up for her regarding how her mom had died.

“I could see the tire tracks leading up to the tree, right to the long, broken off branch. Except no matter how many times I looked at it, I came to the same conclusion.” A shuddering breath shook her shoulders. “The limb had to have gone through the
passenger
side. My mother wasn’t alone in that car and she wasn’t driving. Why did they lie? Who hurt her? Was that car accident even the cause of her death?”

She’d been solving mysteries even as a teenager. “What did your father have to say?”

“He insisted I was in denial from grief. He offered to get me everything from a new puppy to therapy. I just wanted my mom.” She touched his jaw. “But I guess you understand that. You know you tugged my heart that day monkey watching at the National Park. All those images of you as a kid hanging out at the zoo studying families… You still tug on my emotions, Jose.”

The talk of families rather than just mothers steered toward dangerous territory for them. “Stella…”

Sitting up, she put her fingers over his mouth. “I know. It’s not wise for us to discuss this, especially in a bed, but nothing about us has been smart or planned. I certainly didn’t bargain on finding someone like you when I came to Africa. I’d expected to find my Mr. Right once I put the past to rest.”

“Sorry to wreck your plans.” He kissed her fingers. “I mean that. But I am who I am.”

Damn it, if he could figure out a way around their different views for the future, he would. But they’d talked and talked this to death with no progress.

“For a man who’s so confident in the work world, I just don’t understand how you can’t see your strengths in your personal realm. I believe in you.”

Anger nipped at the edges of his already dissolving resolve. “Dumping me was a funny way of showing your faith in me.”

“I have so much faith in you I refuse to settle for anything but your one hundred percent.” She swung her legs off the edge of the bed. “I need to get dressed and go.”

And here they were again, at a fucking impasse. He reined in his anger with a gritty control that had carried him through marathons and missions. “Then I guess that’s my cue to get to work.”

He rolled to his feet and snagged his uniform jacket off the back of a chair.

“I’m sorry to have kept you from your team. You must have a lot to prep for the vice president’s wife’s visit.”

He buttoned up his uniform. “Actually, I’m not on call for that until tomorrow. So for now, you have a bodyguard.”

The best thing for both of them right now? To lose themselves in work. Completely.

That didn’t mean for a second that he was backing off. For whatever reason, she’d landed in his life again and every second with her only reinforced one glaring fact.

Walking away wasn’t an option anymore.

***

Ajaya shuffle-walked beside his two “guards” and tried like hell not to wet himself. He wanted to run away into the dark night and just disappear, except there was no place to hide even if he could get past the fences and captors.

He could only stick by the two agents leading him to his quarters—if that was really where they were taking him. He understood too well about prison cells and torture chambers.

He was so damn scared and tired. It had been a dangerous move climbing onto that helicopter. But at that moment he had been more afraid of the people chasing him than the aircraft he had run toward. All he had been able to think about was leaving, flying as far away as possible. He’d been terrified one of the hostages would recognize him and accuse him of horrible things. God, how he envied them being able to leave. Even now, he could see some of the hostages in the distance loading up on a plane to go.

He prayed the interrogators believed him when he said he wanted to get away. That much was true. He had even offered up the information about the pattern in the cloth to make them trust he told the truth.

But it was so scary figuring out how much to say without getting himself in trouble if the others took him back.

Keeping pace with his silent guards into the dimly lit night, he resisted the urge to ask them where they were going. To beg them to help him escape to… Where? He had nowhere to go. He just wanted to be alone and safe for one night. Just one night to sleep with a full stomach and no fears.

“Sir, where are you taking me?” he asked the one who had been called Mr. Smith. The fact that he had not been passed over to people in uniform frightened him. He should not warrant this level of attention.

“As I told you earlier, we are escorting you to a room.” Mr. Smith walked soundlessly. The guy was downright creepy with his dark suit and black hole eyes that didn’t have any emotion. “There will be a guard outside your door—for your protection too—until we check out your story.”

“Why would I lie?” He sounded desperate, he knew, but maybe that was good.

“Because you have been identified as one of the kidnappers.”

“I am just a kid.” A kid who felt a million years old.

“All the more reason for us to look out for your safety as well.” Mr. Smith’s jacket parted to reveal a gun.

The other man, Mr. Brown, stopped outside a concrete block building. “Let’s get the kid a Happy Meal and tuck him into his race car bed. I’m beat.”

Beat?
Ajaya flinched back, pressing his spine against the warm wall.

That word must mean something different than he thought. Because beating… He swallowed down vomit.

If he could just go back in time. Back to the school where he’d been sent after his family died. He’d been so intent on revenge he had been willing to sign on, thinking he would be a warrior.

Instead, they’d turned him into a murderer.

If these men beside him learned the things he had done, they wouldn’t be offering him Happy Meals or anything else. He wasn’t innocent anymore. He couldn’t go back to the school, and he certainly did not want to go back to the people who’d taken him.

But he could not stay here much longer. They would lock him up for life once they learned everything about his past.

He scraped his fingers along the rough exterior, wishing he could anchor himself to the spot. Mr. Smith unlocked the door and swung it wide. Two uniformed guards with machine guns slung over their shoulders stepped out and flanked either side of the door.

Mr. Smith swept a hand toward the open door. “Here we are. Your room.”

Ajaya peeled himself off the wall and inched inside. Warily.

He looked from side to side at the clean cool space with a big bed on one side. He found his boxed “happy meal” on a small table. They were obviously trying to lull him. To win him over. It was going to take more than food and a bed. The others had tried that and he wouldn’t be cheaply bought again.

Still, he smiled his thanks and prayed they would leave faster. He just wanted to be alone to eat and shower.

And plan.

He hadn’t decided how to get out of here yet, but if he bided his time long enough he would come up with a plan. He still had more information to share, later, if he needed it. For now they would be busy figuring out the secrets encrypted into the pattern on the cloth. Although once they translated the writing, he suspected they would never unravel the code. That was probably the only thing keeping him alive.

Because even though he’d needed to hide here from dozens of monsters out to get him, there were monsters here too.

***

Stella jogged down the outdoor steps—über careful not to brush against Jose—as they made their way through the base, back to the command center in the hangar.