Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) (10 page)

It had to be hard trying to get your life back after fucking it up so spectacularly.

You working?

Yes,
he texted back.
On a job. How are you?

Good. Class is going well. Got an A on the last test.

Excellent. You’ll be a psychologist before you know it.

Ha, hardly. But it’s challenging and I like it.

He stared at the screen. There was so much he always wanted to say to her, but it wasn’t possible really. What did you say to a girl who’d had to kill her husband in order to escape with her life? Emily Royal was one of the saddest people he’d ever known—and there was nothing he could do to fix her.

You still there, Ryan?

Yeah, I’m here.

A guy from class asked me out. I don’t know what to do.

He ignored the kick in his gut. That’s what she needed, really. A nice, normal man to go out with. It’d been months since she’d returned from Qu’rim, and her life was finally settling into something approximating normal. She’d been married to a terrorist, and she’d lived in the camps in Qu’rim—but she didn’t talk about it, and he didn’t know what her life there had been like. All she would say was that Zaran bin Yusuf had been a good man once.

Do you want to go?

His screen stayed blank for a long while. And then her answer came.

I don’t know. Do you think I should?

Did he think she should? It wasn’t his call.
 

I think you should do whatever makes you happy, Emily.
 

I don’t know what that is.

You’ll figure it out. Takes time.

I guess so. Gotta go. Good night.

Night.

Ryan sat and stared at his phone for a long while after it went silent. He’d been the one to take Emily to safety when they’d escaped the Freedom Force’s compound the night Brandy and Victoria were rescued. He’d tended her on the plane, and he’d gone to visit her in the hospital and then later when she’d moved to the Visiting Officer’s Quarters.

There was something unbearably sweet about Emily. Something tough, too, though he didn’t think many people understood that. She was remarkable in many ways.

And she was better off going to school, dating college boys, and rebuilding her life. She’d had enough violence and uncertainty to last a lifetime.
 

Ryan dropped his phone on the couch and picked up the remote. He suddenly felt like getting drunk, but that wasn’t happening when Ice might need him. Instead, he found a movie filled with explosions and car chases, and settled in to watch.

* * *

Grace felt like an idiot. He had a girlfriend.
 

Of course he did.
 

A man who looked like Garrett Spencer was not a man who went through life alone. It made her stomach burn—and it made her angry.

Why on earth would he think it was okay to kiss her when he had a girlfriend? She knew he’d only been chasing Jeffrey away for her, like she asked, but surely he could have thought of another way to do it. He didn’t have to kiss her with such heat and fire that she’d been willing to incinerate herself in his arms with no more provocation than a single kiss.

Grace slammed around her bathroom, getting dressed for the day, and feeling angrier and angrier as she did so. What a fool she’d been, sitting there during that movie, feeling the burn of attraction deep in her belly, her core, and then when he’d told her there was a line he couldn’t cross, she’d actually
thought
he meant he was attracted to her as well.

That he’d wanted her but that he’d left the room because he shouldn’t do anything about it. She’d thought he was being honorable, when in fact he had a girlfriend named Cammie who was his favorite girl in the whole world.

Grace brushed her hair ruthlessly, then twisted it on her head and pinned it in a bun. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a white blouse, and she put on a pair of tall boots since it was cooler out today than it had been.

Today she was going to the lab. No ifs, ands, or buts. She was going to work, and she was going to forget the world for a while. Once she had her slides and her research, she could lose herself for hours.

And that was just what she needed.

She took her Burberry trench from the closet and marched down the stairs, ready to grab an english muffin and a cup of coffee before informing her bodyguard that she was going to work.

But when she got downstairs, he was there, sitting at the kitchen island and glancing over the newspaper. He lifted his gaze to hers, and her heart skipped several beats.

Oh, for the love of God. She’d only met this man yesterday—and he’d promptly pissed her off, so why only twenty-four hours later was she suddenly offended that he had a girlfriend?

She stopped and lifted her chin. “I’m going to work today. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“All right.”

Grace blinked. That was it?
 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Not the answer you expected?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “It’s not my favorite option, but you have a job to do—and so do I. If the intent was to shut you away, that could be accomplished without me.”

She went over and grabbed a mug from the cabinet. Then she got out a fresh coffee pod and put the mug under the coffeemaker.

“No one is shutting me away.”

“I can see that.”

She got an english muffin out and put it in the toaster. The tips of her ears were hot as she moved around the kitchen. She didn’t quite know what to say, but she was just angry enough to want to say something.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

That was one of Brooke’s favorite phrases, and really, Garrett Spencer was not her problem. She’d gotten a little too wound up over that kiss—no doubt her reaction hadn’t been helped by Brooke and all that silly bodyguard movie talk yesterday—but today was a different day.

She had a life to lead, and he was only here to make sure the man who’d tried to attack her the other night did not do so again. Once that man was found, Garrett Spencer would go back to wherever he had come from.

“Something bothering you, Grace?”

She whirled around and glared at him. “Of course not. What makes you think so?”

“You’ve been slamming cabinets and slamming dishes down on the counter. I thought you might be pissed. It’s a reasonable conclusion to make when a woman slams things.”

“I’m fine.”

Oh, what a lie.

He got up from the stool and walked toward her. He moved with the grace and stealth of a cat, and she found herself wanting to back away.

But there was nowhere to go. The counter pressed into her butt.

“Is this about last night?” he asked when he was right in front of her.

Crowding her.

“You said it was nothing. It
was
nothing.” She hoped she sounded as nonchalant as she was trying to be, but she wasn’t sure she’d pulled it off.
 

“That’s right.” His eyes searched hers.
 

She turned and reached for her coffee, purposely ignoring him. But his proximity made her skin tingle.
 

“Do you ever wear your hair down?”

She spun, barely keeping the coffee from sloshing over the side and burning her hand as she did so. “I… yes, I do.” Her heart skittered—and her gut tightened with fresh anger. “But you shouldn’t ask me such things. What would Cammie say if she knew you were flirting with another woman?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes darkening. And then he turned away and put distance between them as he went and picked up his own cup. “Cammie is my daughter,” he said over his shoulder. “She’s nine.”

Grace’s heart throbbed. “Oh.”

He turned back to her, his eyes flashing. “Yes,
oh
. You thought I kissed you last night when I had a girlfriend at home, didn’t you?”

She nodded, heat blooming over her chest, up her neck.

“I have more integrity than that.”

The coffee cup felt suddenly heavy and she tightened her grip. She’d let her fingers go lax as she stared at him. He had a nine-year-old daughter. That raised all sorts of new questions in her mind.
 

“Not all men do.”
 

His expression softened. “Jeffrey?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know for certain, but yes, I think he was seeing someone else at the end.”

“He’s not a bright man, Grace. You need to get over him.”

“I am over him.” And she was, but it was still humiliating. In all the months since he’d broken up with her, she’d had no dates. No man had asked her out… until the night her father announced his candidacy and Tim Fitzgerald was suddenly interested in drinks.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I crossed a line when I did that, and it can’t happen again.”

Her stomach fell just a little bit. She’d known he wasn’t attracted to her, not really. But it had been kind of nice to imagine he was.

“That’s good,” she said with her mother’s cool voice. “Because I was going to tell you not to do that again. It was… kind of you to make Jeffrey think we were romantic. But it’s not necessary. I’m quite capable of fighting my own battles. I panicked last night when I asked you to keep him away. It won’t happen again.”

He looked at her evenly, not saying anything for a long moment. “I’m glad we understand each other. Are you ready to go?”

She picked up her muffin and her coffee. “Yes, thank you. I am.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

FLASH WAS WAITING OUT FRONT with the Escalade. Garrett had decided it was a good idea for his teammate to drive them, just in case the protestors at the lab became an issue. He handed Grace into the SUV and then went around and got in beside her. Flash met his gaze in the rearview as he pulled away from the curb.

“Where does your daughter live?” Grace asked after they’d merged onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

Flash’s brows lifted. Jesus, by the time this mission was over, the guys would know every fucking thing about his life. Nothing he could do about it now. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, but he’d just never talked about it before. He’d only been with HOT for a year—and he wasn’t the kind of guy who opened up about his personal life, especially when it was so damned painful.

“She lives in Georgia with her mother.”

“You must miss her.”

“I do.” He pulled in a breath and focused on the traffic in front of them. “But I see her as often as I can. And we talk every day when… uh, when I’m not out of the country.”

“I’m sorry I thought…” She shook her head. “Well, anyway, please accept my apology.”

She sounded so formal and starchy—and he didn’t like it. She was cool and distant, wearing the armor of her upbringing, and it bugged him.
 

But it shouldn’t, goddammit, because he needed her to keep her distance. He didn’t need to feel sympathy for her, and he didn’t need to want to kiss her again just to see if he’d imagined all that fire or if it was as real as it had seemed last night in the hotel.

“Accepted.”
 

He sounded gruff, but he couldn’t help it. She took her phone from her purse and began fiddling with it.
 

It took almost an hour in traffic to reach Magnolia Laboratories. It was a white building, set off the road and ringed by a huge security fence. Protestors lined the fence on both sides of the gate, holding signs about animal testing and Dr. Frankenstein, among others.

“Oh dear,” Grace said, her eyes wide as they approached.
 

One sign stood out among the rest. It had a picture of a plane dumping bombs.

Stop Biological Weapons - Arrest Dr. Grace Campbell!

The words were written in blood-red paint, and the man holding the sign screamed obscenities as they approached. Garrett automatically reached for Grace and pulled her head down into his lap. She tried to push away, but he held her tightly as the car stopped at the gate and the protestors tried to swarm them. Security did their best, but a few people escaped and pounded their fists on the Escalade.

The gate went up, and Flash hit the gas. Grace had grown still, her head lying in his lap, her face turned away from him. When the gate went down behind them, he let her go and helped her back up.

Her bun was askew, and her glasses had fallen down her nose. She pushed the glasses up and straightened her shirt. That prim white shirt that hugged her breasts and made her look like a frigging librarian who was only a couple of buttons away from loosening up and having a good time.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “but it was necessary to hide your face.”

She blinked at him, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. His groin tightened.

“I understand.” She smoothed her hair with trembling fingers.