Relentless (11 page)

“Very glad,” he said, “but I hate that I just dredged up those memories again.”

“Don't be silly, I can handle it.” She took a fortifying sip of wine. It wasn't his fault. Everything seemed to make her think of Afghanistan. “What else should we talk about?” There were a million things she wanted to know about him and his job, but she'd already made him uncomfortable enough. “Ben and Sam are always an interesting topic.”

His deep chuckle hit her square in the chest. “That they are.”

Over their meal they shared stories about their respective siblings. Sam might not be her sister biologically, but she was in every way that mattered.

In the middle of one story about Sam and her OCD tendencies, Nev even managed to get a laugh out of Rhys. Not a snicker or a chuckle, but an honest-to-God laugh that rolled up from deep in his belly. The sound filled her with warmth, and she wondered how anyone could accuse him of being remote and cold. He was incredibly caring and funny when he let himself be. She felt fortunate he was comfortable enough with her to let his guard down. Sam had told her he didn't warm up to people easily.

Fascinated, she covertly studied him as he ate his pasta, impressed by everything about him. She loved how much he seemed to savor each bite. Few people took the time to enjoy the flavors of what they ate. “Bet it's good to be able to taste your food again, huh?” From her secret daily updates, she knew he'd only regained that precious sense a few weeks back.

“You have no idea,” he said, laying his fork down. Then he frowned. “How'd you know about that?”

“Oh, it's typical for someone who's suffered a head injury.”
Jeez, Nev. When are you going to learn to filter things before you say them?

His manners were impeccable, reminding her again how wrong she'd been to dismiss him as rough and uncouth the first time she'd met him. The reality of him was just... incredible. “I bet you did really well in school, didn't you?”

“Pretty well. Why?”

She cocked her head. “Because you're extremely intellectual in your own quiet way. Did you go to college?”

“I earned a Bachelor of Science through the Army.” He shrugged. “Never went any further than that.”

She set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her linked hands. “What was your major?”

The flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Quantum theory physics.”

“See? That totally suits you.” How freaking hot was that?

With that thought came a flicker of dread. How was she ever going to get over the idea of being with him? Fantasizing about him up ‘til now was unhealthy enough, but after tonight her subconscious was going to take that to a whole new level of wrong.

He caught her staring while he twirled more pasta around his fork and smiled. “Want some?” Lifting a mouthful, he offered it to her across the table.

Maybe he didn't intend for it to be a sensual gesture, but it was. Spellbound by the magnetic pull of his dark blue eyes, she leaned forward and grasped his wrist as he brought the food to her lips. She opened and he eased the forkful inside her mouth. Sliding the pasta off with her lips, she sat back again. The delicious flavors of roasted tomatoes and peppers burst in her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste, very aware of the way he watched her. Somehow she managed to swallow the bite.

“Good?”

Damn, was it her, or was it suddenly hot as hell in here? “Delicious. Thanks.”

“Want more?”

Boy, did she. But what she was hungry for unfortunately wasn't on the menu. Or was it? Watching him closely, she tried to figure him out, but decided he was much too polite to proposition her over dinner. What a shame. “One more.” Where the hell that seductive tone had come from, she couldn't say, but possibly her three glasses of wine were to blame. Still, she eagerly awaited the next bite he held out for her and even held his gaze as she took it.

Might have been her imagination, but she thought his eyes had a hungry gleam to them. And right then, she glimpsed the predator concealed beneath the carefully controlled exterior. A thrill shot down her spine, part excitement, part unease.

The waiter broke the spell when he came back and refilled her glass. She should be glad about that, she told herself, licking her lips to clean off the last trace of delicious sauce. At least he'd interrupted before she'd blurted out something stupid in her usual blunt way.

That hungry glint in Rhys's eyes was an important reminder that he was more than he seemed. Not that she was afraid of him. She knew with complete certainty he'd never hurt her. No, it was because he'd spent most of his adult life doing things she couldn't even think about. Things she couldn't imagine him doing. She'd had a firsthand glimpse of the violence he lived with on a daily basis when he was working, and the memories still had the power to paralyze her.

Throughout the rest of the meal, she kept asking herself the same question. How could she want Rhys when he was capable of such violence?

By the time they got to her hotel, nerves squirmed in her belly. Rhys had been quiet on the trip back, but her mind was in turmoil. Her chest was heavy with all the things she wanted to say and didn't dare. Her body was dying for his touch. Regardless of the inner conflict she battled, those things hadn't changed. If anything, her attraction to him had amplified as the night progressed.

He walked her up to her room, and she was still deciding whether or not to invite him in when they reached her door. If she asked and he said no, it would make any further association with him awkward. If he took her up on her offer, things would never be the same between them.

But when she went to put the key card in the lock mechanism, Rhys stopped her by closing his hand over hers. She glanced over her shoulder at him, his touch and nearness stealing the air from her lungs.

“I'll do it,” he said, taking it from her.

Do what? Oh, her door. Right. Biting back a retort about not needing him to take care of her, Nev stepped back and allowed him past her. Not that she had much choice. The set expression on his face convinced her any resistance would be an exercise in futility.

He slid the card into the slot and unlocked the door. “Stay here.”

His high-handed attitude got her hackles up. She would've argued, but he was already through the door, so she folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to come back, which he did in a few seconds.

“Coast is clear.”

She raised her brows. “Really?” What had he expected to find in her room? Assassins hiding behind the curtains? She strode in and shut the door, finding him studying the paperback about Delta Force she'd laid on the night table.

He met her gaze, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Doing some research?”

She flushed guiltily. No way for her to deny it now. “I was interested in what you did, and thought it might help me get to know you better.”

In the ensuing silence, his steady gaze made her want to squirm. Finally, he spoke. “If there's something you want to know, why don't you just ask me?”

She put her hands on her hips. “You'd tell me?”

“If I can.”

His answer startled her. “So anything I want to know, I can just ask you and you'll tell me.” If he could. Barring the interest of national security and all that.

“Yes.”

Okay, then. She cocked her head, considering him. “Why did you join up?”

“The Army?”

She nodded.

His shrug was almost negligent. “Ben and I had it tough as kids. When we graduated from high school, neither of us had a clue what we wanted to do.” He ran his gaze around the room rather than look at her. “The Army seemed like a good place to keep us in line and it was a way to get an education paid for.”

“So you served out your time there and then went into the Ranger Corps?”

“We both served with the Rangers. I left when I was twenty-five to try for Delta.”

She couldn't understand his decision. Did he like killing so much? “Why stay in when you had a Bachelor's degree under your belt?”

He lifted his wide shoulders. “I was good at it. Delta was the next tier to reach after the Rangers. I fit in well there.”

He was
good
at it? A lead ball settled in her stomach. Her brain refused to compute what he was telling her. Having read about the grueling selection process and the kinds of operations he would have performed, she couldn't reconcile those things with the man she saw in front of her.

For God's sake, he'd held her hand to comfort her after he'd pulled her out of her prison.

She struggled to put her feelings into words. “I guess I just have trouble believing you could live that way.” And do those awful things when he had to.

She didn't think for a moment he would use lethal force unless it was absolutely necessary. No way would he relax his discipline, not even under extreme stress in the field. She would bet her life on that. Still, knowing he had killed and was good at it unnerved her.

He faced her. “Why's that?”

She wasn't the type to mince words. Her tendency for bluntness surprised people, but it was who she was. So she simply said what was on her mind. “You don't seem like a killer.”

A hard smile touched his lips. “I am when I need to be.”

A cold shiver passed through her. Human life was the most precious commodity on earth. How could he take lives in the name of duty when she knew the other side of him, the kind, gentle protector? The disparity between the two halves of him baffled her, but his remorseless admission to having killed people frightened her.

With the two of them alone in the closed room, she became aware again of how big he was. Rhys was strong enough to overpower her with little or no effort, and he had the ability to kill her with his bare hands. She eyed them, tucked beneath the corded forearms folded across his muscular chest. They were big, the fingers long and the palms broad. He could hurt her so easily... and yet she knew in her gut he would never harm her.

Worse, his strength and total command of himself made her go all soft and shivery inside. He would be completely dominant in bed. The kind of dominant that left no room for awkwardness or embarrassment, but would simply burn past everything else and leave her limp with pleasure.

The wicked thought sent a ripple of need through her. Nev had a sudden image of her pinned beneath him on the hotel bed, those powerful hands in her hair and his big, naked body poised over hers. A rush of heat pooled between her thighs.

“Having second thoughts about closing that door behind you?”

She met his eyes. He watched her carefully. “No. I'm not afraid of you.”

“But you are afraid of what I'm capable of.”

She swallowed, but didn't look away. His honesty deserved the same courtesy. “Yes.” Mostly because he held the power to make her lose herself. “I'm not sure you'll understand, but after what happened to me, any kind of violence makes me panic.”

He nodded. “That's understandable.”

How could she feel so strongly toward him? They were complete opposites. She was trained to save lives; he was trained to take them.

Efficiently. Violently.

Rhys tucked his hands under his armpits, the move emphasizing the muscles beneath the sleeves of his dress shirt. “If you want to talk about this some more, can we sit down? I feel like I'm being interrogated.”

“Sure.” A flush spread over her face and neck. She gestured to the leather couch set against the far wall. Going over to it, she sat on one end and he sank onto the other. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He lounged back and rested one arm along the back of the couch, his biceps and triceps flexing noticeably beneath the fabric of his sleeve. “You didn't.” He considered her for a moment. “I know the general public has this image of special ops soldiers being Rambos who shoot anyone who crosses their path on a mission, but it's not like that. You don't make it into the unit unless you're highly disciplined. Out there our teammates and mission are the priorities. We do what we need to protect ourselves and complete the mission.”

“Except when you do assassinations.”

He went so still that she was suddenly afraid she'd overstepped her bounds. Too late to take it back now. Holding her breath, she stared at him, not daring to move a muscle. His hand on the backrest of the sofa was squeezed into a tight fist. Kind of like her stomach. Oh God, why had she said that? It wasn't any of her business—

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Except then.”

So he'd done that too. Swallowing hard, she wasn't quite sure where to look anymore. She didn't want to believe he could actually do something so cold-blooded.

“Look at me.”

Startled, Nev swung her gaze up to his. She couldn't tell by his calm expression, but the bunched muscles in his arms and shoulders told her he was far from relaxed after her thoughtless comment. How mad was he?

“Sorry,” she finally blurted. “I shouldn't have— ”

“It's fine. Forget it.”

Was he joking? How could she ever forget
that
?

His muscles seemed to relax by degrees, and he maintained eye contact with her. “Anything else you wanna know?”

“No.” She didn't want to find out anything else that would make the chance of getting together with him an impossibility, even if it only happened in her fantasies.

One side of his mouth turned up in a sexy smile. “Liar.” He slid his hand over and gave hers a squeeze, then released it. “I can hear your brain whirring from here. Go ahead, fire away. You just... hit a nerve with that last one, that's all.”

What nerve? she wanted to ask, but kept her mouth shut. She'd already done enough damage for one night. It surprised her he was still sitting there and willing to talk with her.

“Come on, say what's on your mind.”

Oh God, he was gorgeous. All latent strength and unshakable confidence sprawled out not three feet away from her, with a mind every bit as sharp as her own. Temptation personified.

She tugged at the hem of her dress. Rhys wasn't known for being loquacious. Having a conversation this long with him was a surprise, and something she knew did not come naturally to him. Now, how to broach the topic she really wanted to discuss?