Shadow Soldier (6 page)

“Is Spike on your team?”

“Yeah. Kind of.”

“I suppose I would have expected more activity after a terrorist attack.” She hadn't even had to file a police report. That seemed odd. Wasn't there some kind of protocol to follow when someone almost got shot into mosquito netting?

“There's more going on than you know. Right now the FBI is doing everything to find the guy.”

“Are you FBI?” She fiddled with her necklace.

“Something like that.”

Another meaningless answer, when she'd thought she was finally getting somewhere.

“You're not going to tell me, are you?” She tried
to temper her frustration, but being kept in the dark was almost as bad as being in danger.

If she didn't know what was going on, she couldn't very well make good decisions, decisions on which her life depended. She thoroughly resented the fact that her father and some unknown organization presumed to know what was best for her.

“So you've noticed me at the gym,” he said out of the blue, making her forget that she was about to call him onto the carpet on the secrecy issue.

Must be he didn't think she'd had enough embarrassment for one day yet. “You grunt when you bench press.”

“I do not.”

“Do, too. Starting at about two hundred pounds.”

He quirked a black eyebrow, his gaze steady on her face as he stirred the pot on the stove. “You watched me that closely, huh?”

She chose to ignore him. The aroma of spices filled the kitchen, but her stomach, clenched into a tight fist as it was, couldn't properly appreciate it.

He pulled the food off the stove and brought it over.

“No, thanks.” She put her hand on the disposable plastic bowl he had set out for her. “I'll try one of those MREs. Figure it's my once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

“If you're lucky.” He grinned and piled the chili into his bowl.

She got up to find something among the rations that sounded remotely tolerable. They ate breakfast at quarter after four, spicy organic chili and beef ravioli in the semidarkness.

Her toes tingled under the table.

 

W
HEN THEY STILL
hadn't gotten the call by noon, Nicola was worried. Alex had spent the day obsessively checking the property and the sensors, while she tried just as obsessively to keep out of his way.

“Do you think something went wrong?” she asked when she couldn't take the silence any longer. Maybe the terrorists had attacked her father and the FBI had forgotten all about her. Her chest tightened at the thought.

“I'm in no hurry,” Alex said, flat on his back, his hands behind his head. He sat up, his nose touching his knees. “The closer I am to Washington, the more likely someone will snag me—” he lay back down “—to write one of those loathsome reports.” He came up again.

He stopped his sit-ups and reached for his phone, and she thought he was going to call after all, but he started to speak into it as soon as he flipped it open. They must have buzzed him.

“Ready?” He listened to whoever was speaking
on the other end. “Can't they send someone else?” He listened again then swore before he ended the call.

“Time to leave for D.C.?”

He shook his head. “They got the shooter. He's singing like a bird. He and his brother were on some personal vendetta against your father. You're going home.”

She needed a moment to adjust to going back to her normal life so abruptly. From one moment to the next everything kept changing. She didn't have the kind of skills it took to handle such chaos. She'd barely accepted for real that she'd been attacked, and now apparently she was out of danger. God, she was getting whiplash.

Oh, what the hell was wrong with her, feeling disgruntled because things were changing too fast? The authorities got the shooter. She could go home. She waited for the rush of relief, but it didn't come.

Shooter in custody or not, it would take time to regain her sense of security.

“I'll be going home all by myself?” The thought of being alone after what had happened yesterday was less than comforting. “I guess now that everything is back to normal… I don't suppose—”

Since she had raised such a fuss about him guarding her in the first place, it would probably have
looked pretty stupid if she begged him to stay with her a little longer.

“I'm coming with you to spend the rest of the week,” he said with a barely disguised groan before he left the house to collect his sensors.

Oh, thank God.
“We're going home, babies,” she whispered to the finches bickering on the coffee table, oblivious to the sudden end of danger. If there were any ruffled feathers among the three of them, they were definitely hers.

 

A
LEX PARKED
on the other side of the street for a while. Nothing suspicious. He scrolled through the fields on his cell phone. Spike had set the security after he'd left Nicola's house. Didn't look like there had been a breach.

He pushed a button, and the garage door opened.

“How did you do that?” Nicola stared at his phone.

He grinned at her astonishment and slipped into his pocket the special-edition cell phone that had saved his life on more than one occasion. He pulled into the driveway, then into the garage next to Nicola's car.

“How did my car get back?”

“Spike.” He closed the garage door.

“May I take the vest off?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Your windows aren't bulletproof.” He got out with his gun drawn. “You stay behind me.”

“I hate being a prisoner in my own home. Hated it as a child, did whatever I could to get away from it as an adult. Doesn't look like it worked, does it? All I wanted was some freedom.”

“I understand.” And he did. For him it was second nature to be always looking over his shoulder. But Nicola was a civilian; she wasn't used to this. Nor should she have to be.

“What about the Tweedles?” She hesitated to follow him.

“Let's check the house first.” It didn't seem smart to bring noisy birds along while they tried to sneak around. He didn't expect any surprises in there, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

“Okay.”

“You have to admit it's strange that someone who values freedom as much as you do would keep caged birds as pets. Kind of symbolic, don't you think?”

She gave him a funny look. “For your information, they were a gift. And they like their cage.”

He crooked his eyebrow.

“That's what they're familiar with. They wouldn't know what to do outside. Probably couldn't even find food. I am not being mean to them.”

“I didn't say you were.” He lifted his finger to
his lips to signal to her to be quiet as he opened the door that connected the garage with the house.

He wasn't satisfied until he checked everything from basement to attic. Then he set out to double the sensors, and let her get on with whatever it was she wanted to do, while he kept an eye on her. Despite frustration over his baby-sitting assignment being extended, watching Nicola Barrington move around the house was by far the most enjoyable task he'd had lately. After Yemen, maybe fate figured it owed him a good turn. He wasn't going to question it.

She was incredibly feminine. Not in the sense of femininely fragile, but head-to-toe real woman. He couldn't be near her and not be aware of her, aware that he was a man. She was a contradiction—all soft curves on the outside, but on the inside the kind of quiet strength rare even among men. At every turn she had stepped up to the plate. She'd had the presence of mind to get into his car and away from the terrorists, held the wheel while he stopped them from following, defended herself against Spike. Her life had been taken apart then put back together again in the last twenty-four hours and her eyes never teared.

Alex watched as she brought the finches in from the attached garage—he had allowed her free movement as long as she didn't go outside. As soon as she set the cage on its stand and pulled the cover up, the birds began to chirp and fly around, which pretty
soon escalated into another fight over the nest. She appeased them with some seeds, then walked out to the kitchen, her movements as graceful as a dancer's. Another thing he liked about her—the fluidity of her stride, the easy flow of limbs with which she accomplished even the most ordinary tasks. Probably came from her Tai Chi practice. He wondered if she'd gotten into the habit of her daily morning exercise while she lived in China.

She moved on to the kitchen and, to his regret, out of sight. Pots rattled. Dinner? He'd forgotten that neither of them had eaten since lunch, eight hours ago. Now that the noises filtering in from the kitchen reminded him, his stomach growled for attention. After countless months of existing on MREs, he would have given anything for a home-cooked meal.

He fought the urge to go in there to watch her. Instead, he went outside to check on the sensors he'd set around the perimeter of her property and added a few extras, wishing the Colonel would call with an update. He would have liked to know more about what the captured gunman had said.

 

T
HE
G
ENERAL SET DOWN
his teacup and turned his head to escape the pungent odor of its contents. The mixture of Chinese herbs was great for his headaches, but the taste was hard to tolerate. But then,
one often had to put up with a certain amount of unpleasantness to get results. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, General.”

Was it a trap? He had hoped his plan would work, but hadn't expected Nicola back so fast. She'd been hidden somewhere near. They committed their first mistake—underestimated their enemy. Good position for him to be in. “Must not miss this time. Move as soon as you are ready.”

“Yes, General.”

He pushed the cup away. He wouldn't need the rest of his herbal tea tonight. Good news was the best medicine.

Soon victory would be his, and China would be free. He regretted that things had to come this far, but it wasn't his fault. The U.S. government was to blame. He had asked for help nicely, he and thousands of other Chinese. But the U.S. refused to help the Chinese people to break free from the tyranny of their communist government.

There was too much money invested in China by American businessmen. The last thing they wanted was political upheaval and uncertainty. And powerful businessmen had powerful lobbies. They paid for elections. They owned senators. And for that, help was withheld from his people.

He was done begging.

If the U.S. had taught the world one thing in the
past few years, it was that countries that harbored terrorists and were the source of terrorist activity, would be dealt with swiftly, their governments deposed, their people liberated.

He knew what he had to do. Orchestrate a terrorist attack of such magnitude that the U.S. government would have no choice but to respond to China, the source.

Nicola Barrington was just the beginning.

With the sun finally down, the air felt marginally cooler in the backyard, although still far from comfortable. But despite the luxury of a running air conditioner in Nicola's house, Alex didn't want to go back inside. Or rather, he wanted to go back too much and was smart enough to know it wasn't a good idea. He needed something to distract him from Nicola.

It was just like Spike to have taken her skimpiest clothes to the safe house to tease him. She was still wearing the shorts and a tank top from that batch, completely covered by the too-large Kevlar vest. With not an inch of clothes showing, she looked as if she was naked underneath. Might as well have been naked altogether. His overactive and over-starved imagination provided him with tantalizing details.

Maybe she'd change. Probably not, though. It had
to be pushing a hundred degrees outside; he couldn't see her putting on long sleeves and pants anytime soon.

He took a deep breath, then another. They didn't help. The air was as hot as the woman inside.

The yard secured, he checked out the street and the neighboring properties as he fiddled with his phone. A quick call. He punched the number.

Colonel Wilson picked up on the second ring. “Everything all right?”

“Just wondering if you had any developments.”

“Nothing that would help us. The man the FBI picked up is Xu Jinsong. Citizen of the People's Republic of China. He entered the U.S. two weeks ago on a tourist visa. We've contacted the Chinese Embassy and requested his criminal record if any. Still waiting.”

“Is the FBI still questioning him?”

“I put Spike on the job. Everything the man said has checked out so far, though. Looks like this case is over.”

Good news at last. Besides being a language whiz, Spike was also one tough SOB. If Xu was hiding something, Alex had no doubt Spike could make his bird sing before long.

“Everything all right?” the Colonel asked again. “Anxious to get back to Yemen?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised to find that had not been the real reason for his call.

“Might be sooner than we thought. We have a new situation developing. One of the microbiologists we've been tracking in Saudi went for a visit to your old Yemeni friends, then disappeared.”

“Who's on the job?”

“Baker. He followed the man from Saudi, but I need him back there.”

“When will I be going?”

“I'm still waiting on a couple of things, but it shouldn't be long. Looks like the Barrington case is about ready to be rolled up. I'll let you know when I have a date.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” He closed the phone and clipped it back on his belt. Good news all around. In a few days Nicola's life would be back to normal and he'd be back in the action. Oddly, it didn't fill him with as much excitement as he'd thought it would.

Nicola filled him with excitement—the unprofessional kind. Now that it seemed the danger was over, he had a hard time maintaining the kind of focused vigilance it took to keep his mind off her. Since he didn't have to look over his shoulder every second, he found himself looking at her more and more often. And he was experienced enough to know that wan
dering eyes tended to lead to wandering hands, and that led to…someplace he was definitely not going to go.

 

N
ICOLA SET THE TABLE
, turning at the sound of Alex coming in. He looked pensive. Probably ready to move on to the next adventure. He stopped to inhale the aroma of Szechuan chicken cooking in the wok, but didn't say anything.

The sight of him sniffing around her stove was so domestic, her brain had trouble processing it. Just two days ago, she'd been dodging bullets with him. It had been only two months since she'd first seen him at the gym. And now he was living in her house. A temporary but nevertheless mind-boggling arrangement.

“Dinner will be ready in another fifteen minutes.” She laid a pair of chopsticks next to her flat square plate and another pair next to Alex's. Then, on second thought, she added a fork to his place setting.

He leaned his long frame against the countertop and watched her; she could feel his gaze on her back even after she'd turned to get some glasses.

“Wine?” She pulled a bottle from the rack and held it up for him. She didn't drink often, but enjoyed a glass of nice dry red now and again, and every once in a while a satisfied client presented her with something special.

The Bordeaux in her hand had been a gift from
Du Shaozu, a charming, intelligent man with plenty of vision. She looked forward to working with Du Enterprises soon. Now that the shooter was in custody, she might even be able to keep her original appointment with Shaozu in the morning. Of course, as busy as the man was, the empty spot on his calendar had probably been filled in immediately. Nicola set the bottle on the countertop. She had the hardest time thinking about work while Alex watched her.

“No rice beer?” He eyed the wine, his lips tugged into a slight teasing grin.

He didn't smile much, but when he did, it sure looked good on him.

“Fresh out.” She handed him a corkscrew from the top drawer.

“What will you do if it goes to my head?”

Oh, dear. Was he serious? The last thing she wanted was for him to lose control.

Or was it?

He pulled the cork and poured, then handed her a glass, his fingers touching hers.

She pulled back, then lifted the glass and took a nervous gulp, too rattled to enjoy the sweet wine on her tongue. He seemed to have no trouble savoring his. She watched as he set his glass aside after a few careful sips.

The contents of the wok sizzled behind her.
Sheesh, she'd forgotten to stir. Thankfully, it didn't burn. She took care of the meal and gulped some more wine, trying not to look at Alex.

“Nervous?”

Jittery was more like it. She made some noncommittal sounds.

“You don't have to be. I'm here.”

Precisely.

“Refill?” He picked up the bottle and brought it over.

Had she finished her glass already? Lord, he probably thought she was a guzzler. Oh, what the hell. She held her glass out. She needed to relax. Any more tense and her fingers would snap the bamboo spoon she was using to stir the food.

His gaze flickered over her while he filled her glass, his eyes two swirling black pools. Something in them that… Couldn't be. She must have been imagining it. She offered him a nervous smile. Men like Alex never checked her out, not even under normal circumstances, and right now her best features were both covered under the Kevlar vest. She looked like SpongeBob Square Top.

He didn't step back after he poured. “You are the most desirable woman I've ever met,” he spoke the words slowly, deliberately.

She took a sip. A large one.

“Nicola?” His voice was smooth as Chinese silk gliding over her skin.

She took another sip. Boy did she need it. She kept the wineglass between them as a shield.

He put his hand on hers and drew the glass to the side as he stepped closer. She had no place to go. If she moved back any further she'd be sitting on the stove. And she was plenty hot already. Only because of the dratted vest. Yeah, right.

His gaze never left her face as he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss lasted only a second, leaving her lips tingling as if she'd bitten into a hot pepper. But instead of wanting to run for a drink of cold water, she wanted more; she wanted all of it.

He set her glass on the counter. “I shouldn't do this,” he said, then gathered her against his mile-wide chest and kissed her into oblivion.

His warm lips teased with skill, and had her at the point of mindless abandon within seconds. Her mouth parted with pleasure as he advanced, a military man clearly well versed in the art of invasion. He tasted of wine and passion, a heady combination that went straight to her head. She had to hang on to his shoulders for support.

He must have foreseen the problem of her weakening knees, the good soldier that he was, because he picked her up and set her on an empty spot on
the counter. His tongue did things to hers that probably fell under “strictly classified” for the protection of the masses. Civilization itself would have been in jeopardy if all men kissed like this. Women would never have let them leave the house.

His lips teased, promising everything then delivering more, sending delicious shivers through her body. He trailed kisses down her neck as far as the vest allowed, then up to take her earlobe a prisoner of war. Giving no thought to the Geneva Convention, he engaged in exquisite torture.

“Hot,” he mumbled against her sensitive skin, “…in here.”

Yeah. She knew what he meant. The air conditioner was going full blast, but she didn't feel any of it. They generated plenty of heat between them. His muscles shifted under her fingertips as he moved. She ran her hands down his arms covered in one of his standard black long-sleeved shirts.

“You could take this off.” Had she said that? Had she just asked the most gorgeous man she knew, top secret agent, special military commando, to take his shirt off in her kitchen?

His gaze, thick with passion, held hers while he considered, but then he moved forward and kissed her again instead. She didn't have time to be disappointed. The kiss was full of hot need and frustration, melting whatever measly defenses she might have
had left. He possessed her, and she gladly gave herself to him. Would have given it all in that moment of madness had he asked.

She leaned into him as his hands ran up the outside of her thighs, waking up every nerve ending along the way. She used to wish she could suck them in as one sucked in one's stomach, wanting just once to look down and see knobby knees. But judging from the sounds coming from deep down Alex's throat, he thought her legs were just fine. And then, next thing she knew, they were wrapped around his waist.

He pulled his gun from his waistband and set it on the counter, then returned his full attention to her. His long fingers maneuvered in purposeful caresses on her skin until she was ready to jump out of it, or at least out of the inconvenient bulletproof vest that stood between them. She teetered on the brink of pure bliss and frustration, wanting more, more, more.

Once again, he anticipated her. He sneaked a hand under the vest until he found what he was looking for, and she moaned into his mouth, her body ready for surrender. His palm pressed against her breast as he ran his thumb lightly over her nipple.

He devoured her lips. She could feel the proof of his desire hard against her. Yes, she thought. This is what she wanted. This is what every atom of her body was screaming for. The pleasure of his hands on her body took her breath away.

Then the realization hit her. The Kevlar might protect her against bullets, but she had no protection whatsoever against her bodyguard.

 

T
HE SMELL OF BURNING
soy sauce brought them around.

Alex drew back from her, his growling stomach forgotten long ago. The hot hunger inside him ached for Nicola alone. He licked his lips to capture one last taste of her and waited for her to say something, something other that what a mistake this has been. As far as he was concerned, he would be damned if he'd apologize.

Nothing but the sizzle of the wok broke the silence between them.

She wouldn't look at him as she slid off the counter. “I better get that.”

His gaze ran up her legs and he already missed the feel of them around his waist. He looked at her arms and wished they were still wrapped around his neck. He couldn't see much more than that from the blasted vest, too stingy to show the curvy delights his hands had found. Her silky dark curls bounced around her face as she bustled between the stove and the table. For a second he caught a glimpse of her seductive lips that had been his downfall. They were still swollen from his kiss.

The sight of them was almost more than he could bear.

He took their wineglasses to the table to give his hands an occupation other than grabbing her, and willed his raging blood under control. The Colonel hadn't sounded the all-clear yet, and until then, Alex couldn't afford to be distracted from the job he was here to do. And
distracted
was hardly sufficient to describe the thousand pains of desire that swarmed inside him like angry bees in a hive, leaving his aroused body buzzing.

His gaze followed her as she placed the wok on the table, then sat across from him, and for a moment he could almost imagine his life like this. A woman, somebody permanent who moved gracefully in his life, cooked mouthwatering meals, kissed him dizzy before dinner, then loved him senseless after.

Not a bad fantasy.

Too bad it could never happen. He was a lone wolf. Officially. Said so in his psychological assessment, one of the reasons why he'd been offered a spot in the SDDU. The character traits and skills he had were suited for guerrilla warfare, not for playing house in suburbia. He probably wouldn't have liked that kind of life, anyhow. No sense getting all sentimental about it.

All he had with Nicola were a few more days at
most. He would enjoy them while they lasted, but he could never forget that he lived in a different reality.

He heaped chicken and vegetables on his plate, but the phone buzzing on his belt stopped him from picking up his fork. He got the phone out and flipped it open. “Perimeter breach. Front. Get down.”

He grabbed his gun from the counter, turned off the lights, then went to the window. A group of boys played street hockey outside in the twilight. Zak McKenzie ran out of the bushes that divided his parents' property from Nicola's, threw the puck to one of the players and the game resumed.

“Just a couple of kids.” He turned on the light.

Nicola got up from behind the counter and scowled at him. “I hate this.”

“I know. It'll be over soon.”

She took up her chopsticks, and he grabbed his fork ready for the food.