Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8) (13 page)

“Could it be a wife? What about Al Ahmad’s wife?”

“Fatima al-Faizan? I doubt it. She was decorative, not a part of the organization at all. She seemed stunned when the truth came out.”

Phoenix sighed. “Maybe a woman who joined the cause and worked her way up through the ranks quite suddenly. There was a power vacuum when Zaran bin Yusuf was killed that might have enabled someone to take advantage.”

“Maybe.”

“Does Emily have any ideas? She was a part of the organization for three years.”

“I haven’t asked her yet. There was a HOT operator in the room at the time.”

“I see. I suppose Mendez is hearing the same news right about now.”

“Yes, I imagine he is.” And wondering the same things about who Raja might be.

“This is tricky, Odysseus. I didn’t want HOT there, but I was overruled. Cooperating with them is dangerous to our overall mission, like talking to me is dangerous for you, so the faster we get those hostages free, the sooner you can go back to business as usual.”

He knew Phoenix was right. Sometimes he hated business as usual. But smoking out traitors in the belly of your own government was a worthy cause—and one that could get him killed if he didn’t tread carefully. He’d alienated himself from the good guys and made himself into one of the bad guys—or at least one of the guys who didn’t care where his money came from so long as it kept on coming. It had taken years and a lot of sacrifice—and he couldn’t go back now.

Officially, he was disavowed. Unofficially, he was deep black. Ironic, considering his name. Sometimes he missed Langley. Sometimes he missed
normal
.

“There’s something else,” Ian said, knowing Phoenix wasn’t going to be pleased about the money. He kept a million in cash for bribes, equipment, etc. Losing half of that in a chunk was going to hurt. “We may know where the hostages are in two days’ time… but it comes with a price.”

“How much of a price?”

“Half a million.”

Phoenix swore. “Do you trust the asset to deliver?”

Ian fixed his gaze on the stone wall outside the Faraday cage. “Not particularly, no.”

“Then I assume you have a backup plan?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Phoenix didn’t ask what the plan was, and Ian didn’t say. He knew his handler didn’t want the details. Phoenix wanted results.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

PREGNANT.

Emily clutched the piece of paper in her hand that reported her HCG levels were consistent with pregnancy. Jared couldn’t date the pregnancy, but Emily knew. There was only one possibility.

One illicit night with Ryan two months ago and she was pregnant. Her eyes filled with tears as fury rolled in her belly.

Not fury that she was pregnant, but fury at Zaran, at the doctor who’d told her she would never have children. She’d believed she was damaged, incapable. Not complete, even though she knew the ability to have children didn’t define her as a woman.
 

“You’ll need to get checked. An ultrasound, prenatal appointments. I’ll give you something to help the nausea, but you’ll have to be careful in this heat. Stay indoors during midday, hydrate, get plenty of rest.”

She looked up at Jared through blurry eyes. She’d followed him from Ian’s office until they’d found a private corner to speak in. The news he’d given her had stolen her breath. And her voice, it seemed.

All she could do was nod.

Jared put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “It’ll be all right, Em. You’ll figure it out.”

Would she? They both knew this would be the end of her work here. She nodded again. Jared dropped his hand back to his side.

“I can arrange a visit to a women’s clinic. There are a few good ones here in Al-Izir. You can at least get started while you figure out what to do next.”

Somehow, she found her voice. “Next week.”

“Sure.”

Because she needed to meet with Mustafa in two days, and she needed to take half a million dollars with her. Part of her wanted to fold up shop and get on the next plane home, but she couldn’t do it. Now, more than ever, she had to do this job and clear her name. She had to do it for her baby, or the poor thing would
never
have a normal life.

Neither would she. And neither would her baby’s father.

A chill slid through her. Ryan. Oh God, how could she tell him? What would he say? She knew, without a doubt, that he’d redouble his insistence that she leave Acamar. She clenched the paper in her hand and gritted her teeth.

That was
not
happening. Not yet. She had to help find those hostages, and she had to hope that was enough for Ian to live up to his promise.

Jared handed her a bottle of nausea medication from his kit and explained how to take it. Then he left her there to gather her wits. Emily sucked in a breath before swiping at her eyes and sniffling. She took the stairs up to her room.

But when she opened the door, the room was occupied. Ryan stood at the window, looking somehow bigger and more imposing than he’d been earlier. He turned as she entered. Fury churned inside her belly, but there was also a healthy dose of fear this time.

“So now you trespass whenever you please? Nice.”

She closed the door behind her and shoved the paper and bottle Jared had given her into her pants pocket. Not that they were hidden considering the bulge or the fact Ryan had seen her put them there. Her heart beat harder.

“Figured this was the one place you couldn’t avoid me.”

“What do you want?”

He nodded at the bulge on her hip. “What did Jared say?”

Oh fucking hell. Her heart skipped a beat and sweat broke out on her torso. She had to tell him. But how could she tell him right now, right here?

Ryan, you’re going to be a father.

The thought made her stomach lurch.

“Rest, hydrate, stay inside midday. I’ll be fine.”

Ryan didn’t look convinced. “That’s it? After the fainting and throwing up? After all I’ve seen you eat is bread, and not a lot of it?”

Heat marched across her skin. “You’ve been here barely twenty-four hours, and my stomach was upset. I expect I’ll eat more today.”

And she would once she got the antinausea meds into her system.

“What aren’t you telling me, Emily?”

She reached around to twist her ponytail into a bun, securing it with a couple of pins sitting on her bedside table. Then she put her hands on her hips and stared at him. “I’m telling you what you need to know. There’s nothing more.”

Liar.

He stalked toward her, his big form imposing on her space. When he stopped in front of her, she was afraid to take a step back. Afraid that doing so would reveal too much. He loomed over her, his blue eyes searching hers.

And then he reached out with one hand and skimmed his fingers beneath her jaw, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet his gaze evenly when she’d dropped her lashes over her eyes.

“You forget that I know you, Emily.” His voice was soft, gravelly, and she wanted to sink into it. Into him.

Her heart thudded and her skin burned—and she was positive he could see her pulse throbbing in her throat. Giving herself away.

“You don’t know me that well,” she croaked.

His mouth twisted ironically. “No, you’re right about that. Had no idea you’d come to me that night to give me a good-bye fuck. Couldn’t have predicted that one.” He leaned toward her, his eyes searching, always searching. “But I’ve learned to tell when you’re hiding something, thanks to that night. And you definitely are.”

He took another step closer until he was fully in her space. She felt as if she were paralyzed. She couldn’t move a muscle. And then his hand was on her hip, his fingers sliding downward—

Into her pocket.

“No,” she cried as he pulled the bottle and paper free. She snatched at it, but he held it up high, out of her reach. “You have no right!”

“I have no right? I spent months listening to you whenever you needed an ear, talking to you when you wanted to talk, being your friend. I did that at a cost to myself, Emily. I hid it from everyone, from my superiors, from your sister. I did it because you needed someone. I was there for you when you said you were afraid, and I was there for you when you wanted to perform a fucking experiment with my body. You wanted it even though I told you that was the one line I couldn’t cross. The one thing I wasn’t supposed to do. So what did I do when you insisted? I fucking gave in, because you asked it. Because you said you needed me. And what did you do? You left. You disappeared without any explanation, back into a life that you knew none of us would approve of. You took advantage of me, of the team, of your sister. And now you say I don’t have a right to know what’s wrong with you?”

Emily trembled from head to toe. She’d screwed this up so badly. Screwed up everything. She’d been trying to do the right thing, to fix her life, but she’d ended up hurting the people she loved the most instead. And she hated feeling guilty about that, especially when she
knew
she was doing good work. That her meetings with Mustafa were making a difference.

“Ryan,” she choked out.

His expression was granite. “Tell me what’s on this paper, Emily.” He held it without opening it. Held the bottle without reading it. His eyes bored into hers. “If you ever cared about me, if anything you ever said was real, then tell me what’s on this paper.”

“If I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll walk out of here and never ask you another thing. We’ll be finished for good.”

Emily swallowed. “I thought we were finished already. I thought you hated me for leaving.”

“I don’t hate you. I’m pissed, but I don’t hate you. Lie to me about this, and that just might change.”

She put her hands over her face and took deep breaths. My God, she’d barely processed this news at all, and now he was demanding to know what was wrong. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Being pregnant with the child of the man you loved was supposed to be joyous.
 

Yet there was no joy here. And there would be none when she told him. He wasn’t going to be happy about it. He wasn’t going to ask her to marry him.
 

She didn’t expect to feel his arms around her suddenly, but that’s what happened. Didn’t expect to be dragged against his big body and held close. She couldn’t help but clutch her hands into his shirt and press her face to his chest. He smelled good. Like sun and sand and Ryan.
 

She dragged in a breath that came out as a sob even though she tried to stop it.

He squeezed her tight. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll help you through it. We’ll get you to a doctor, get you taken care of. You don’t have to suffer.”

Emily couldn’t help but laugh, though it was a broken sound that was as much sob as humor. “Oh, Ryan, it’s nothing like that. I’m not dying.”

She sniffed and pushed back until she could look him in the eye. His brows were drawn low as he studied her. Her heart hammered and she felt light-headed again.

She dropped her gaze to her fists clutching his shirt. “I’m not dying,” she repeated.
 

“Then what?”

She didn’t want to say it. But she had to. “That doctor was wrong. The one in Qu’rim. He said I… I couldn’t g-get p-pregnant.”

Ryan’s body tightened like a steel coil. He pushed her back a step, his hands on her shoulders, the bottle and paper falling forgotten to the floor. There was confusion in that gaze. And pain.

“Are you telling me you’re pregnant? Right now?”

She nodded.

“Jesus.” He stepped back and raked a hand through his hair. It was longer than military regs allowed, but in HOT the regs didn’t apply when the object was to blend into their surroundings. “You’re pregnant… I didn’t think…” His nostrils flared. “Whose is it?”

Emily went still. Had he really just asked…? Heat and ice flashed over her skin in rapid succession. And then the anger began to build. The injustice of it. And, worse, the suspicion that if he could think she’d been with someone else since their night together, he most certainly had.

She whirled, clenching her hands at her sides before she launched herself at him and wrapped them around his throat. Closed her eyes and sucked in breath after breath to keep from imploding right here and now.

“You can ask me that?” she grated. “After that night? When you know why I came to you? Why it had to be you?”

Silence…

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me…?”

She whirled around again, pretty sure she wouldn’t wrap her hands around his neck now. “Yes,” she yelled. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you, you prick! This baby is
yours!
”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“DUDE, YOU OKAY?”

Ryan looked up from where he’d been leaning back in his chair, two of its legs off the floor, listening to his guys talk about the mission. Fiddler was looking at him strangely. No, fuck, they all were.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”