Hot Shot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#5) (9 page)

Anger flared inside her. And hurt. “You really are a bastard sometimes, you know that?”

He shrugged. “It’s a legitimate question, Gina. You’re a superstar. You can’t take a shower without a news bulletin, so I don’t know how you managed to be pregnant and no one found out. You didn’t disappear off the face of the planet, after all.”

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her knees. If he were anyone else, she’d tell him it was none of his business. But of course it was his business. “I never intended to lie about it, but when I found out I was pregnant, I knew I couldn’t face the media firestorm that would follow. I also didn’t think it was a good idea based on my last public
romance
and what happened to him. Everyone would assume Athenasios was the father. I didn’t want to deal with the Metaxas family—worse, would you have wanted me to have a public DNA test that proved Eli wasn’t Athenasios’s?”

“You didn’t know that at the time.”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. But I didn’t want anything to do with the Metaxases. Athenasios didn’t run his business alone. His brother Stavros took over the shipping company. For all I know, he also dealt in the same side business.”

“So you disappeared.”

“I spent time in Italy. Well, an island off the coast of Italy. And I was never big. At nine months, I didn’t have a large belly. It was noticeable, of course. But not huge. So I wore a lot of big clothes and I stayed away from people, other than the few I trusted. The doctor was paid well not to leak the news. I ‘adopted’ Eli later so there would never be any question of who his father was.”

“What’s on the birth certificate?”

He sounded angry. She didn’t blame him, but how could she possibly tell him everything she’d been going through then? She’d been scared and alone and confused. And she’d done what she thought was best for Eli’s safety.
 

She bowed her head and swallowed. Her throat hurt after an evening of singing. “Unknown.”

She could see him clench his fist in her peripheral vision. “You had a fifty-fifty chance of guessing the right man.”

“It was easier that way.”

“When we get him back, you’re going to correct that.”

His tone said he’d accept no other alternative, and yet she bristled at being told what to do. But didn’t he have that right? She’d revealed the truth to him, asked him for his help, so how could she possibly deny him the right to call Eli his? And yet it terrified her, too.

“All right,” she said softly.

“I don’t even know what he looks like.”

Tears blurred her vision. “Can I have my phone?” He’d been holding it for her in case there was a call during the concert.

He handed it over wordlessly. She put in her passcode and called up her photos. She found the most recent one of Eli, taken just this morning before she’d flown to DC. He’d been laughing and playing with his toy train. She’d snapped him when he’d looked up at her, his little blue eyes shining, his blond hair a mop of curls. His cheeks were rosy and fat. Her heart squeezed with all the love she felt for him.

She passed the phone wordlessly to Jack. He took it and sat there staring for the longest time. She managed to force herself to look at him. His profile made her heart skip. He was chiseled and handsome, and she felt again all the chaotic emotions she’d experienced back in that cave three years ago. Such hot, intense attraction. Safety. Belonging.

But of course she’d been wrong about the belonging. As usual.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “He looks a little like me.”

“A lot like you,” she said past the knot in her throat.
 

“Yeah.” He punched the button to make the picture go away and handed the phone back to her. “Goddammit, Gina,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

She dropped her gaze to her lap. She knew what the answer should be. But she couldn’t say it. She could only tell the truth. “I don’t know.”
 

She leaned her head back on the seat and let a tear escape. Her makeup would run and she’d look like a raccoon, but she no longer cared about her image.

“I should have told you. I know I should have. But I was scared. You were so angry and heartbroken three years ago. You told me what we’d done didn’t mean anything. I understood that. And I didn’t need anything from you. I didn’t want you to think I expected anything.”

“I wasn’t in a good place then. But that still didn’t give you the right to keep him from me.”

“No, I know.” She spread her hands. “I can’t say anything other than I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. All I want is to get Eli back again. After that, we’ll work it out. I want him to know you, if that’s what you want too.”

It terrified her to think of making Jack a part of their lives, but what choice did she have? Without him, there would be no Eli. Without him, she might never see Eli again.
 

Oh God, she couldn’t think such a thing. She just couldn’t. It would kill her if he didn’t come back safely.

The dam inside her broke then and she folded over onto herself, crying because she was emotionally wrung out from the concert, from Jack’s presence in her life, and from her baby being gone.

For the second time today, Jack pulled her into the hard warmth of his body and let her cry. She huddled into his side, her body shaking with fear and adrenaline and sorrow. Jack ran a hand up and down her bare arm. Sparks shot through her body, warming her. She wanted to lean into him for the whole night, lie against him and let him take on the world for her. What would it feel like to belong to someone strong, someone who could take control and make the world go away for a while?

It was always her against everyone else. She was used to it, and yet she still wished for someone to take care of her every once in a while. She’d never been taken care of. From an early age, she’d been alone while her mother went out to bars and clubs. And then she’d been alone when her mother brought men home and spent time with them instead of her child.

Only once could she recall being the center of her mother’s attention. She’d been staying at a friend’s house for days because her mother was partying and working, but she’d gotten sick at school and the nurse called her mother. Mom had come for her. She’d taken Gina home, tucked her up in bed, and spent two whole days feeding her soup, taking her temperature, and fussing the way a mother should.
 

It hadn’t lasted. But Gina remembered that time so vividly. She’d been cared for and loved, and the memory of it had kept her warm inside when she felt down. When she’d started to make money, she’d asked Mom to come live with her. But her mother hadn’t wanted to leave Bill or Bob or Dan—or whoever it had been then. That winter, she’d slipped on a patch of ice, hit her head on the pavement, and died when the bleeding on her brain hadn’t stopped.

Gina felt Jack lean forward and then a box of Kleenex appeared in front of her nose. She took several. “Thanks.”

She dabbed at her eyes, the tissues coming away black, and then she dabbed her nose with fresh ones. She turned to Jack. “Can you fix this mess? In case there are reporters still at the hotel.”

He grabbed some tissues and held her chin firmly while he tenderly wiped away the makeup beneath her eyes. She didn’t want to look at him, but there was nowhere else to look while he tended to her.
 

He had a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw. His blue eyes were hot and piercing as he stared at her. Her heart bumped up as her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had beautiful lips, firm, and as she knew from experience, oh so kissable. He’d performed magic with that mouth. She’d worshipped that mouth.
 

In a fricking cave on an island. It was like a myth that had happened to someone else instead of her.

Except she had Eli, and now Jack was here, dabbing away makeup and holding her chin with his fingers.

“Best I can do,” he growled, leaning back away from her.

“Thanks.”

“What the hell is that dress made out of anyway? Rubber?”

Gina blinked. What? “It’s polyester and spandex. It looks like leather, but breathable.”

“Looks like rubber to me. And not much of it.”

She glanced down at the dress. She was so accustomed to thinking of her costumes as just that, costumes, that she hadn’t paid much attention to this one once she’d left the stage. Gina Domenico was a sexual bombshell who projected sensuality and utter confidence in herself. This outfit was designed with that in mind. Her breasts mounded high and threatened to spill over while the hem had ridden up to nearly crotch level. It explained a lot when she thought back to Pete Gibson’s blushes. And maybe it explained a lot now. Her gaze dropped to Jack’s groin.

And he was hard, the long, thick outline of his cock lying against his thigh. It made her stomach clench and her pussy throb with answering heat.
 

She shook herself mentally. Just because he got hard over a pair of boobs in his face didn’t mean anything. He’d told her nothing was happening between them ever again—and she’d told him he was an arrogant prick for thinking she cared if it did.

“And here I didn’t think you were interested,” she purred, deciding to jab him while he was down.
 

“I’m not. But I noticed. Hell, every man who likes tits and ass noticed.”

Her temper burned. He would never know how much thought and planning went into every little thing she did. And she didn’t give a fuck what he thought about it. “Sex sells, baby. Or haven’t you heard?”

“Then you’re doing a fine job of selling it.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that? You don’t get to judge me or make assumptions about my business just because I’m wearing a dress that makes you hard. Jerk off tonight if you must, but blame yourself, not me.”

He raked a hand through his hair and swore. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right that I know nothing about your business. I’m just fucking pissed off and not handling it very well. It’s going to take time.”

The limo came to a stop and she looked out the window to see they’d arrived back at the hotel. The chauffeur got out of the car and came around to get her door. When it opened, she took his hand and let him help her out. There were no photographers, and for that she was grateful. She meant to walk away, but instead she turned and leaned down to fix Jack with a look.

Because she was still angry, in spite of his apology. She’d believed in him on the island, trusted him, and thought he’d seen the real her beneath the polish and glitz. But he seemed to believe the image now, and that hurt.

“Be sure to stroke it extra hard, you hear? And think of these while you do it, sugar.” She rounded her hands over the sides of her breasts. And then she straightened and hurried into the lobby where Sam McKnight waited with Georgie, Olivia, and Evie.

“Where’s Hawk?” Sam asked.

“Coming,” she replied without a trace of irony.

CHAPTER NINE

IT TOOK JACK A couple of minutes to follow Gina. He had to wait for his hard-on to subside because, yeah, she’d made him hot. He’d been wiping the streaky makeup from beneath her eyes and trying like hell not to look at the way her breasts filled out the deep vee of her dress, but it was impossible not to. He’d never seen such perfect breasts as those creamy swells, and he’d seen plenty. He’d been remembering the way they’d felt in his hands and trying to regulate his response.

It hadn’t worked, and that had made him angry. So of course he’d been a dick to her.
Asshole.

He didn’t blame her for that last burst of spite. He’d deserved her anger over what he’d said. His mother had raised him better than to talk to a woman that way, but he hadn’t been able to stop once the words started.

He reached her room. Ryan Gordon stood outside the door.
 

“Hey,” Flash said as Jack walked up. “Go on in. They’re waiting.”

Jack stepped inside the suite and closed the door behind him. Georgie, Olivia, and Evie were talking and laughing. Sam and Matt looked up when Jack entered. Gina wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Got anything?” Jack asked, though he knew if they had someone would have called him immediately.

“No,” Matt said. “Billy’s got everything set up next door. We’re just waiting now. If they call, we’ll find them.”

“Nothing to do but wait then,” Jack said, shoving his hands in his pockets and standing there feeling a little bit lost and a whole lot irritated—with Gina, with himself, with everything.

“You all right, Hawk?”

“It’s a lot to take in at once, but yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Matt came over and clasped his shoulder. “We’ll find these bastards and get Eli back.”

“I know.” And the fact his team would do this for him when they were between missions and could use the time to relax filled him with uncharacteristic emotion. He wasn’t very talkative at the best of times, but he wanted them to know how grateful he was.

He just didn’t know how to say it. Matt squeezed his shoulder as if he knew and then turned away.

The door to Gina’s bedroom opened and she came out. She didn’t look anything like the Gina who’d looked at him with such contempt a few minutes ago. This Gina was scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair was wet. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and her feet were bare. It took him back to the island and the way she’d looked there with her face fresh and her long hair hanging in wet ropes down her back. She’d been purely, simply beautiful, and he’d been enthralled even though he hadn’t wanted to be.