Phoenix Inheritance (7 page)

“We don't want any trouble here,” Daz said.

“That makes two of us,” she said. “But if that's the case, why did one of your buddies almost pull his gun in the med tent?”

“He's just a little jumpy, with good reason. We haven't slept in over twenty-four hours and being shot at didn't do our moods any good, especially after being caught outside during the quake.”

“You don't seem the jumpy sort of person.”

Daz shrugged. “He's new, I'm not. But if you know I'm armed and think I'm dangerous, why are you staying with me?”

“My dogs liked you. They like someone, I pay attention.”

She sidestepped a mud puddle, almost tripping over one of the tent wires. Thor simply jumped over the obstacle while Loki wandered in, splashing around. Silly dog.

Daz's long strides enabled him to skirt the puddle easily but not Loki's splashes. He barely noticed. Maybe he was too dirty to notice.

“I like dogs too,” he said.

“You're not a cat person?”

“Not even close.”

She led him inside the mess tent. As she expected, it was a madhouse this time of day, with everyone pushing and shoving to get dinner. The crowd was mostly relief workers but there were some locals, who had nowhere else to go for food, mixed in.

Several people called out her name in greeting and a few, like Daz, called her Wonder Woman. The shirts did make her immediately recognizable. Another advantage in a large camp like this. A man asked about the rescued boy. She recognized him as the one who'd risked climbing into the hole to get the boy out before the house collapsed.

“The doctors say he's stable and getting better. They give him an excellent chance for recovery,” she told the rescuer.

At that, a cheer went up. Daz joined in.

“Hey, it was the dogs, not me,” she said when they were finished.

“They're your dogs, aren't they?” Daz said.

The rescuer and others agreed and, this time, they clapped in appreciation. Her face grew red. Loki barked and everyone laughed.

The rescuer called Loki over, offering scraps. Thor and Loki looked at her, asking if they were allowed. As a rule, she didn't want them eating table scraps. But they deserved a treat and she trusted these people. She waved and they were off, to be petted, hugged and otherwise fussed over.

As the crowd went back to eating, she got in line to pick up box lunches and pointed to two water stations in the back.

“There's your fresh water,” she said to Daz.

“Great. Thanks. I'll grab yours too.”

As he headed to the back of the tent, he petted the dogs again, and said a few words to those eating. Renee watched, intrigued. He seemed to genuinely like people and they seemed to instantly warm to him. It seemed others came to her conclusion: he might be a good guy.

All good. Just so long as he hadn't brought trouble with him.

“Where'd you dig up the American soldier?” A British voice whispered in her ear.

“Sailor, he says, not soldier. He arrived at the medical tent with an injured friend.” Renee turned to face Kim, the Red Cross volunteer in charge of the logistics and organization of the relief effort. If you wanted something done in camp, you went to Kim. Lucky for Renee, Kim loved dogs. Thor and Loki returned her affection.

Kim frowned. “No American units are involved in the effort. So how did he get here?”

“The guards let him and his two friends through because one of them was shot. He says they were hiking and ran into some panicky villagers after the quake.”

“You buy it?”

Renee shrugged. “Who knows? That's why I brought him with me, to keep an eye on him. But he's doing his best to avoid trouble.”

Kim nodded while wiping her brow with a bandana. “I'll check with the doctors and get a report.”

“Good. I will say Daz defused the situation pretty well. He said something to the doctors in German that seemed to calm them down.”

“Daz?”

Renee shrugged. “Daz Montoya. That's his name. Or, at least, that's the name he gave me.”

Kim stared at Daz. “Hell, with those shoulders, he could be James Bond and it would fit. Do the others look like him?”

Renee smiled. “Nah, he's the prettiest.”

“I bet he damn well knows it too.” Kim brushed her white-blonde hair out of her face. Kim was young enough to appreciate Daz's looks but old enough to be cynical about them. “Well, so long as he's not dangerous, I admit staring at him is a good distraction after today.”

That sounded like more than Kim's usual exasperation with bureaucracy. “Something else go wrong?”

The relief effort had been plagued by lack of heavy equipment to move away debris—that was why they'd had to pull the kid out with just a rope. Almost as worrying was the ever-dwindling supply of basic medical equipment and medicine. Earthquakes in major cities received worldwide publicity and help. Earthquakes centered on a rural, less accessible area did not.

Kim's job mainly consisted of doing whatever it took to solve those logistical problems. A far harder, and probably less rewarding job, than Renee's own SAR work. When things worked, no one noticed. When they went wrong, it was all Kim's fault.

“It took me an entire day to finish the final heavy lifting of getting those donated supplies sent via plane. First, I had to scramble to find a pilot willing to take a charter on our limited budget. Then I had to deal with customs officials from three countries, local officials, rescue group officials…they all had a different procedure. Sometimes I think there are officials for officials.” Kim sighed. “Then the pilot who agreed to fly the plane backed out for some family emergency. I had to hire someone else at the last minute. Anyway, it's done. Did I hear you say the rescued boy is doing well?”

“Yes. Alive and looking to stay that way.”

“Good. Any word on his family?”

Renee closed her eyes, wishing she didn't remember that part. “We pulled two adult victims from the rubble near him, probably his family, from the photos in their wallets.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I guess the only good part is the boy doesn't know yet. They're waiting until he's stronger to tell him.” She sighed. “Or maybe that's not good at all.”

“The worst part of this work is that you can't save everyone.” Kim glanced around the tent. “We do what we can. You have to focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Look at the people we're feeding right now. And the boy would be dead if we weren't here.”

“Yeah.”

Daz strode back over to them and handed Renee her canteen, now full.

“Thanks.” She introduced Daz and Kim. He smiled the same easy smile he'd used on her, which made Renee wonder if he charmed women out of habit. No, wait, he'd smiled and joked with the others too.

Someone tapped Kim on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Crap,” Kim said in response. “Sorry, Renee, gotta go. More logistics.”

She was talking intently to the man who'd interrupted her as they left the tent.

“Something wrong with the rescue effort?” Daz asked.

“No more than the usual lack of trust between various officials and the trauma of everyone who lived through this. This time it's complicated by having victims spread across three countries. Being near the border has its own problems.”

They reached the front of the line, took their box lunches, washed their hands in the nearby jury-rigged sink—a hose and a bucket—and those eating made a spot for them at the edge of the benches, almost up against the tent wall.

Thor and Loki padded over to sit at her feet. She brushed dirt and grass off their vests that identified them as SAR dogs. “C'mere, babes. Time to eat something nutritious.”

She slid her pack off her shoulder, pulled out the sealed plastic container with the dog food and set it at her feet.

“The dogs will share?” Daz asked.

“They will.”

Thor and Loki devoured the food while she poured out water for them in an empty plastic bowl from her pack. Yes, that was enough, and she still had some leftover for morning.

“You're feeding them first?” Daz asked.

“Always.”

“Taking care of the men under your command first is good practice,” he said.

“Is that why you're not eating anything but the granola bar from the box?”

“You caught me. The rest is for my guys. I didn't figure they'd give me extra for them.”

She bit into some sort of fruit paste. Awful but it would provide the nutrition she needed. “Your guys, you said. So are you going to tell me what your rank is?”

“How about you give me your cell number and I'll give you my rank
and
my serial number?”

“You want
my
number?” She sipped her stew. “We're in the middle of all this and you're hitting on me. You've got to be kidding.”

“It's because we're in the middle of all this that I'm hitting on you. I figure with things so chaotic, I won't get another chance.” He leaned down and petted Thor. “And you're kinda impressive, Renee Black, Wonder Woman.”

“Yeah, grimy, exhausted and irritable. I draw men like flies.”

“I was more thinking of the really cute curly hair and the way your eyebrows rise up whenever you're being skeptical,” he said. “The sharp mouth is a bonus.”

She laughed. Oh, he was easy to like. And if she took his number, maybe she could have somebody look it up and find out if he was who he said he was.

“I'll give you my number if you give me yours.”

“Absolutely.”

He pulled out his phone and they exchanged contact information.

“I doubt I'll have any free time while I'm here,” she said.

“I'll keep the number and find you. We'll be out of here, I suspect, as soon as my friend is ready to travel. We don't want to be a burden on the camp.”

“You'll
find
me?”

“You make it sound so ominous. I'll call you. Or maybe you'll want to call me.” He stood, putting the mostly uneaten box lunch under his arm.

“We could use you and your uninjured man in the relief effort if you want to stick around.”

He frowned. “I'll ask but we're on leave. And we're already late in reporting back.” He stood and gave her a very real salute, the box lunch tucked under his arm. “Good luck finding more people alive.”

“Thanks.”

She still wasn't sure she believed his hiking story. But she felt better about him and his men being in camp.

Chapter Four

Daz and Renee found Charlie in his bedroom, sound asleep on his stomach, stretched out in the middle of the floor.

“Well, that explains the quiet,” Renee said.

“Sure does.”

A Batman quilt was spread out under Charlie. His arm was curled around a purring, sleepy-eyed cat. Charlie's wet clothes lay on the floor next to him, save for the underwear, which he'd kept on.

“I suppose I can forgive him for not putting the clothes in the hamper after today.” Renee sounded amused.

“I've got it.” Daz scooped up the discarded clothes while Renee took a corner of the quilt and fully covered their son. Odin opened his eyes but otherwise didn't react. Uncanny, how calm that cat was.

“Should I move Charlie to the bed?” Daz asked.

“No.”

The emphatic answer surprised him. “Why not?”

“Because getting that kid to sleep is the bane of my existence. I'm not chancing waking him up now.”

“Even with the cat around?”

“For all I know, the cat may be the reason he went to sleep without complaint.”

“Okay, got it,” he said.

She knelt and kissed Charlie's head.

Daz took a long look around his son's bedroom. Besides the Batman quilt, Charlie had a couple of Batman posters plus a blown-up photo of him with Thor and Loki on the back of his door. Books were neatly stacked in a white bookcase. He recognized all the
Magic Tree House
books he'd bought for Charlie one day at the bookstore and the big hardcover of
The Way Things Work
.

Various sneakers and shoes dotted the bottom of his open closet, including soccer cleats from the summer. A lacrosse stick leaned against the corner. Daz had only made it to two-thirds of Charlie's games last summer because of the damned trip to Europe that had resulted in his latest scar.

On the bureau, Daz recognized the mug he'd bought for Charlie from the West Orange Zoo and the picture of the two of them riding the carousel at Six Flags. Yeah, he was good at big days or indulging Charlie.

But Renee was here every day. That was clear by how the photo from Six Flags was overwhelmed by a big corkboard behind the bureau. Pinned to the board were badges from comic conventions all over the United States, including New York Comic Con, MegaCon in Orlando, and WonderCon in California. But, oddly, the newest badge was two years old.

“You get tired of cons?” he asked Renee.

She shook her head. “No, we loved going. But Charlie's gotten very sensitive to the noise and crowds, so we haven't gone in a while.”

“Oh. Is that why you stopped traveling? I noticed you haven't gone anywhere in the past year.”

She shrugged. “He'll get calmer and we'll go traveling again.”

It was clear that she'd basically put on hold things over the last year or two because of Charlie. He'd no idea that Charlie's issues were that serious. Renee had been after him to meet with Charlie's psychiatrist about the autism diagnosis but, well, he'd been putting it off. Sure, Charlie wasn't perfect, but what kid was?

But this lack of travel spoke louder than any words could have. Charlie must really be having a rough time. He should have listened more carefully about what Renee was trying to tell him about their son. He figured she had everything under control, as she always did.

They backed out of the bedroom into the hallway.

“That cat better not use my sheets as a bathroom,” she said.

“You have something against cats?”

“Only that they're sneaky, never listen, and get into everything. There's a reason I have dogs. And this one was the source of all the trouble today.”

“Looks like you're stuck with him now.”

“Don't remind me.” She sighed. “But, hey, if he helps Charlie sleep, he's welcome. I'm for a shower before the power goes out.”

“You're going to have trouble getting your shirt off with that hurt shoulder. Let me help.”

“Careful. I might conclude you're trying to get me into bed.”

“That's exactly where I want you, Renee.” Once again he pulled her close.

She closed her eyes, as if she couldn't look at him. “That is such a bad idea.”

He bent his head and kissed her just below her mouth. “It's long overdue,” he whispered.

She trembled. He scooped her up. She opened her eyes and stared at him. Time seemed to stop as he tried to find the right thing to say and then wondered if there was
any
right thing to say. Too much history between them for words. Only actions mattered now.

She slid her arms around his neck. She
wanted
him. After all these years, she could still want him. He had a chance. He wouldn't waste this one.

He nuzzled her neck.

“I'm going to regret this,” she said.

“You won't.” What she said didn't matter. She was in his arms.

“You're very optimistic.”

He kissed her. It was soft, careful, but then she opened her mouth to him and tightened her grip around his neck. Yes, this. Now that he had her again, he was never going to let her go.

“Oh, hell,” she whispered. “Take me to bed, Daz.”

Renee tried not to think, a wonderfully easy task with Daz's arms around her, and his lips against her and…

“How about in front of the fireplace?” he breathed.

“No.”

He kissed her again, cutting off any chance for her to tell him they shouldn't do this. Of course, she could've stopped kissing him back. There was that.

“What's wrong with the fireplace? You have something against romance?”

She blinked, trying to process the question. She didn't want to consider reality. But reality wouldn't go away.

“My bedroom has a door that can be locked.”

“In case Charlie wakes up. Gotcha.”

Reality. Right. In the form of the son they'd made together. Basically, the reason they'd broken up.

“You're damned beautiful, Renee,” Daz said.

She wasn't. But that sounded really good. She kissed him again.

Daz carried her inside her bedroom. She slid her hand under his T-shirt. He felt the same as before, all rock-hard muscle until…her fingers touched the rough edges of something that must be a scar.

“Are you okay?”

“It's nothing. Doesn't even hurt anymore.”

He kissed her once more, banishing those nagging doubts, the ones that told her this craziness was only from adrenaline. She could have died today. No, she would have died today but Daz had appeared out of nowhere, right when she needed him, as she'd always hoped he would, and now he was here, and she remembered exactly why she'd fallen in love with him. Because he not only seemed like a hero, he thought she was a hero too.

It was as if they'd never broken up.

They had, of course, but regrets would have to wait for tomorrow. Maybe they'd make love forever and never have to talk, never have to deal with the past. Maybe they'd be snowed in forever and never have to leave the house.

Daz laid her on the bed, locked the door and pulled off his shirt.

Still as in-shape as ever but…

“Daz, that scar looks rough. Are you sure it doesn't hurt?” She blinked to make sure she hadn't imagined it. Was the gnarled, reddish area in the shape of a hand? Yes, it was. What the hell kind of maniac would do this to another person?

She sat up, intending to go to him, but he crossed to the bed and sat down next to her.

“No worries. I told you, I'm fine. It's healing. I'm more worried about
your
shoulder,” he said.

“My shoulder will be fine.” She resisted the urge to trace his scar with her finger. He was likely sensitive about it. He'd view it as a sign of weakness that he'd let someone hurt him like that.

Oh, Daz.

“What happened?” she asked.

He picked up her hand and kissed it. It was a small, even offhand gesture, but it made her toes curl.

“It's okay, I'm okay. This is just from the perils of playing bodyguard. It's healing fine. Another month or so and even the gnarled stuff will fade to pink.”

He was shrugging it off but the pain of the initial injury must have been excruciating. She wanted him, oh yes, but she wanted to make sure he was okay too. “Did this happen when you went to Europe earlier this year?”

“Renee, scars are an occupational hazard.”

“But…what you must have gone through…can I help?” And now she wondered if this had anything to do with his new attitude toward her the last few months. He'd been friendlier and more easygoing. Not that he had shirked his obligation to Charlie before, but he'd definitely been more focused.

“Yes, you can. By focusing on the rest of me.”

“That's definitely easy.” She draped kisses on his arm, from his elbow to those broad shoulders. He smelled so good, he felt so warm and she could cheerfully eat him up like he was a bowl of ice cream.

With his fingertips, he traced her arm up to where the shoulder ached, the sensation equal parts pleasure and then pain as he came closer to the bruised area. She blinked, jolted back to reality. “Your turn, Wonder Woman. Let me take a look at this.”

Wonder Woman. His original nickname for her, because she'd been wearing a Wonder Woman T-shirt when they first met. It still gave her a thrill to hear him say it. God, she still had it bad for him. Dammit. Because tomorrow or the next day, real life was going to come crashing in.

All the more reason to focus on now.

He helped her take off her T-shirt, good arm first, head and then down the bad arm. They both winced when they got a good look at the bruise on her shoulder.

“It only hurts when I do this.” She tried to lift her arm, got a spasm of pain and stopped. Dammit, this was no way to start lovemaking.

“Well, we'll make sure you don't do that. I'll get some ace bandages.”

She put her hand on his bare chest. “Oh, no, you're not getting off that easy now that we're practically naked.” Being taken care of was the last thing on her mind. Tonight. Now. Yes.

“You sure you don't want any, um, getting off?” He grinned.

They were in sync, for the first time in ages. “Exactly. Sex now, worries later. Just be careful not to jostle the shoulder.”

He slipped a hand around her back and unhooked her bra. “As careful as if you were a bomb that might go off if I touch the wrong spot.”

“That's a helluva analogy, Daz.”

“That's what you get for being involved with a SEAL.”

Yes, along with months-long disappearances and broken promises…

No, not tonight. He'd saved her life today. He was here tonight. Only this moment in time existed, only the two of them, on the bed, making love.

He kissed her again, and she was lost in how good it felt to have him touch and want her again, to have him here in her home, in her bed, like she sometimes dreamed when she took out the crushed origami bear.

Her hand roamed over his chest, as solid and strong as ever, and down to his waist, where she felt his erection pushing against his jeans. She unbuttoned and unzipped them, releasing his fully erect penis. Oh, God, this was really happening, like in one of her dreams.

“You're talented with one hand,” he said.

“I bet you're pretty good with this one.”

Her fingers closed around his shaft, still hidden from sight by the boxers. So hard, so warm. He moaned, a guttural sound from deep within. “So good,” he murmured into her ear. “I missed you so much, Renee.”

Not that I could tell…until today.
Then she banished the thought. Tomorrow. She'd think about this tomorrow.

His lips worked their way from her ear to her neck and her skin tingled, hot, inducing a craving for more. He had to touch her
more
. When his hand cupped her breast, she wanted to cheer. Instead, she arched her back and closed her eyes, and stroked his erection. Yes, this had always been the perfect part. Memories of them together came flooding back. That hotel in Greece, where they'd made love with the balcony doors open and the breeze flowing in…curled up together in small hotel in London while a storm raged outside…

And he'd never cared she wasn't supermodel beautiful. He'd always wanted to touch her. To him, she really was Wonder Woman.

He pushed her hand away from his penis. “Not yet. And we've got too many clothes here still.”

She blinked, here and now banishing memories of the past. Now, tonight. They'd have at least one more perfect night. He peeled off his jeans, boxers and socks, and she took a moment to just appreciate how utterly breathtaking he looked, like a hero out of a Hollywood movie. Eat your heart out, Pepper Potts.

He'd hardly changed since they first met. Sure, he was older, more marked by scars, with a weathered line or two surrounding his eyes.

The wear and tear only made him look more like a man.

“You're perfect.” The words just slipped out.

Daz grinned. He'd never been modest. Of course, he had no reason to be. If only he were perfect out of bed.

“Your turn to get naked,” he said.

But I'm not perfect
. Still, clothes would be in the way and she craved for Daz to touch the parts of her already throbbing for him. She moved to tug off her jeans but he grabbed her hand.

“You're moving that shoulder as little as possible. I'll do it.”

“Okay.” What if
she
looked different naked than he remembered? What if he remembered her skinnier before Charlie and was turned off? Oh, crap, and she was wearing stupid plain white underwear, the unsexiest thing ever. Daz was perfect. She was less so. She'd always known that. The Navy SEAL and the geek who cared about dogs more than people.

Mismatch.

He stretched out on the bed beside her and cupped his hand over her nipple, teasing with featherlight touches. He was toying with her. She wanted that so much. Her body arched, her hips thrusting, and if she could have curled into him, she would have. Already, she was wet and more than ready for him.