Hot Rebel (14 page)

“Is that an ETD?”

She could tell he was testing for explosives residue, but she’d certainly never seen a device so small.
 

He nodded. Then he dropped the items into the duffel pocket and nodded. “It’s clear. Go ahead and open it.”

“That’s amazing. Where’d you get it?”

If that was available on the open market, Ian would have had one. But he didn’t.

Nick grinned. “We’re well funded. And we get to play with prototypes.”

She blinked at him. She still didn’t know who
we
was. She’d thought they were Delta Force, but Nick said they weren’t. Didn’t mean he was telling the truth, but then again, this part about him being here with her and undercover was a bit out of the ordinary. More like the CIA than anything.

But she didn’t think he was that, either.

She slid the key into the lock and turned. The door swung open to reveal a long room with two chairs and a small table. The apartment was a corner unit with a sweeping view of the compound across the street. The windows were wide and tall—and they slid open on tracks, which was perfect for access.

They dropped the gear in the center of the room. Nick went into the adjoining rooms with his bug sweeper.

“We’re clear,” he said when he returned. “And there’s a bed, so at least we have that.”

Victoria pushed her hair over her shoulders. “I hope there are towels, though I’m going to shower regardless.”

“There are.”

She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. There was food and water, and she took a bottle out and twisted off the cap. “I need to call Ian and let him know we’re here.”

Nick’s expression said he wasn’t thrilled about it, but he knew as well as she did that it had to be done. She’d turned her phone off two days ago, and Ian would be pretty pissed if he’d tried to call.
 

“Keep it as short as you can.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, stud.”

She went and fished the phone out of her bag and turned it on, her heart hammering on the off chance that Emily had sent a message. She hadn’t liked leaving the phone off, but it had been months, and she’d reasoned with herself that it was highly unlikely Emily would suddenly get in touch now.

Her phone started beeping with messages once it powered up. She scrolled through them with her heart in her throat, but they were all from Ian.

She dialed and walked over to the window. Ian picked up right away.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Her already frayed temper spiked. “Driving, asshole, what do you think?”

“You dropped off the grid.”

“Nothing unusual about that.” She always went into radio silence on a job, though she usually checked in once a day. She hadn’t done so this time, and he wasn’t happy about it. Or maybe he wasn’t happy for a different reason, such as bin Yusuf was breathing down his neck about being unable to find her.

Though now that they were here in this apartment, it was like turning on a homing beacon for anyone looking. The resigned expression on Nick’s face said he knew it too. He was busy removing guns from his case, stowing them in easy reach. He also set something that looked like a speaker on the table—she knew it was actually a white-noise device—and then turned back to his gear and kept unpacking.

“Well, don’t do it again. Jesus, Victoria, what if the target had changed locations? Or what if I had to get critical information to you?”

“I’ll check in once a day, as always.”

“Every four hours on this one. And keep the phone on. This one could change fast.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine, every four hours. Care to tell me what I’m here for?”

“I’ll transmit the information when it’s time. How’s the pretty new recruit doing?”

Victoria swallowed.
Pretty?
She glanced over at Nick and her belly flipped. Yes, definitely pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. And, whoa, could the man kiss. Parts of her started to tingle. “Fine. Why?”

Ian chuckled. “Don’t get distracted, Victoria.”

“What makes you think I would?”

“You’ve been out here a long time. Gets lonely, doesn’t it? Besides, I saw the way you looked at him.”

She was pretty sure her ears were red. “A girl can look. Doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

“Let’s keep it that way, all right?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but that’s my intention.”

She ended the call and looked up to find Nick watching her. Her mouth grew dry looking at him. Tall, dark, and brooding—just her type, it seemed. She hadn’t known she had a type, but this one was pressing buttons she’d thought so rusty they wouldn’t work.

“A girl can look at what?” he asked, his head tilted to one side as he leaned against the doorframe, oh so casually.

“At you.” No sense lying about it. She’d stammer and turn red and he’d know anyway. “Ian seems to think there’s interest and that maybe I can’t keep my hands to myself.”

One corner of that sensual mouth turned up in a grin. What would it feel like if she let him put that mouth on her skin again? If he slid his tongue around her nipple and pulled it between his lips?

The answering throb in her pussy was not a good sign.

“I’d like to think Ian’s right. And if he is, you just feel free, sweetheart. Anytime you want to put your hands on me, I’m yours.”

Victoria tucked her phone into her pocket. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you aren’t that irresistible. Hot, yes. Tempting, yes. But not irresistible.”

He unsnapped his shoulder holster and shrugged it off. Then he lifted the black T-shirt he was wearing and tugged it over his head with a grin. Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and abs that she could count. He wore a set of dog tags that hung between his nipples, gleaming silver in the light shafting into the room. His body was untouched by a tattoo needle, which was rather unusual for a military guy these days—or at least the ones she’d known—and he had a single scar that ran diagonally from beneath his left pectoral muscle to midway down his side. It wasn’t an ugly scar, but it was noticeable.

Hell, everything about this man was noticeable. Her head started to swim. Her feet stuck to the floor. Nick slid a hand down his chest and flicked open the button of his cammies. Oh dear God…

“Wh…what are you doing?” She managed to force the words from her stiff lips.

“Heading for the shower, sweetheart.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “If you care to join me, you know where it is. I promise I’ll take good care of you. Wash every inch of your beautiful body and then lick it all over while you pant my name and beg me to finish the job.”

Her skin was on fire. Her nipples, traitors that they were, were tightening. She folded her arms over her breasts and fixed him with a glare. “The only thing I plan to beg you to do is hurry up and get out of the damn shower so I can use it.”

He laughed as he turned away. “Your loss.”

She heard the shower turn on a couple of seconds later. She resolutely went over and slid into the chair to wait. For good measure, she sat on her hands and forced herself to think about the mission instead of the man.

*
 
*
 
*

Nick finished his shower and put the cammies back on with a fresh T-shirt. He didn’t usually go on jobs with showers or beds, but when they were there, you had to take advantage of them. He strapped his guns back into place—shoulder, ankle, small of back—and walked out into the hallway. Victoria was at the small stove, doing something with food that was beginning to smell heavenly.

He picked up an orange from the bowl on the counter and started to peel it. “Thought you wanted a shower.”

“My stomach growled.”

“Is there enough there for me?”

She flashed him a look that would flay the hide off a lesser man. “I’m not your maid, Preacher Boy.”

He separated the orange segments and put one in his mouth, savoring the juice sliding over his taste buds. He imagined rubbing a segment around Victoria’s nipple, licking the sweet juice off her body. His cock liked that idea too, throbbing to life in an instant.

“Didn’t we discuss this name business, Vicky?”

“Sorry. I’m not your maid,
dickhead
. That better?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Victoria Royal was one of the crankiest women he’d ever known. Hell, one of the crankiest
people
he’d ever known. And even if she didn’t like him, she did want him. That he was certain of after their little misunderstanding in the car.

“You need to get laid, Vic. Ease up some of that tension you got going.”

“And you know just the guy, right?”

“I
am
the guy.”

She turned, spatula in hand. “Word to the wise, but I’m pretty sure there’s not a woman alive who likes a man telling her he knows what’s best for her.”

He finished the orange and started licking his fingers. Her cheeks colored and she quickly turned back to the pan. For a cranky, prickly woman, she had the most expressive face. And she got embarrassed over the tiniest things. Almost as if she didn’t know how to handle anything sexual.

“All right, I don’t know a damn thing,” he said. “But I think easing some of that tension you got going with a good orgasm or two might help you relax. I’m willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of your health—or you can do it yourself if you prefer.”

She didn’t say anything. Instead, she picked up a plate and slid an enormous omelet onto it. Then she set it on the counter between them. She took two forks from a drawer and handed him one.
 

“Seriously? After I pissed you off?”

“Just take it, for fuck’s sake.”
 

He did, and they dug in at the same time. She blew on the bite on her fork, then popped it in her mouth and chewed. He took a bite after she did, pretty sure now that she’d eaten it she wasn’t trying to poison him for pissing her off.

“It’s good.” He meant it. He didn’t know what she’d added, but it was more than just a cheese omelet.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” She forked another bite. “You press my buttons pretty hard.”

He wanted to say something about pressing the
right
buttons and how good that would feel, but he wisely refrained.
 

“Understandable. This isn’t an easy situation for you. You’re working for us, Black thinks you’re working for him—and there’s a terrorist out there who not only has your sister, but who’s also tried to kill you recently. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“And you wonder if I’m still working for Black and setting you up, right?”

He wasn’t able to hide his surprise. In fact, he nearly choked on the omelet and hot cheese. But he managed to swallow and followed it with a swig of water.

She was looking at him with an arched eyebrow, daring him to deny it.

“Yeah, I wondered that.”

“If I thought Ian could get Emily for me, I’d have told you and your colonel to go fuck yourselves. He’s had two years. It’s your turn.”

“Fair enough.”

They ate in silence until the omelet was gone. She dropped her fork and stretched, her breasts pushing outward as she arched her back. Her skin was creamy and spotted with freckles. He wanted to see more, but he knew she wasn’t going to show him.

“I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m climbing into that bed and sleeping for a couple of hours. Unless you object?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Best to catch up on sleep now since we have no idea how long we’ll be here or when the target will appear.”

“That’s what I thought.”
 

She sashayed away from him, and he turned and peered over his shoulder. She had a nice ass. He loved the way her hair fell to the middle of her back, a thick curtain he’d love to wind his fists into before burying his face in it and dragging her scent into his lungs.

He waited until he heard the shower, and then he went and tried the bathroom door just to make sure she was in there. Locked, of course. He laughed to himself as he pulled his phone from his pocket and powered it up.

He speed-dialed Matt Girard, making sure he could see the bathroom door in case she decided to creep out and listen to his phone call. It was a risk to call the team, but he needed to do so now while he had the chance.

His team leader answered on the first ring. “Brandy, thank God,
mon ami
. Been wondering about you.”

“All’s good for the moment.” He’d already given his team the general address of this place, but now he added a report about their surroundings. He could hear keys tapping and knew that Billy Blake was hard at work doing what he did best.
 

“Kid says it’s the Russian consulate across from you. There’s oil in that part of Qu’rim, and the Russians are big players in the industry there.”

Nick stared out the window. The consulate was surrounded by a tall stone wall with iron caps. There was a set of gardens leading to the house, which was about a hundred yards from the road. Not quite a football field in length. The windows running along the front of the building were tall and evenly spaced. But were they bulletproof?