Shadow Soldier (9 page)

She lay on top of the covers in nothing but an oversize T-shirt, looking deceptively innocent. His mouth went dry. Probably from more than the aftereffects of the drugs. They were efficient, that was for sure. He was still pain free, but seemed to have trouble with basic motor skills. He was having the hardest time turning his head from Nicola.

She had taken off her vest.

Two emotions battled inside him for control: anger that she had drugged him, then discarded the only
protection she had left; and gut-wrenching lust. The thin T-shirt showed every tempting line of those curves he had spent weeks fantasizing about.

She had legs to die for, buttocks and hips round enough to be inspirational, breasts that nearly made him cry with need. He had as much self-restraint as the next man, but he was rapidly reaching the end of it. God hadn't made this woman to be resisted. And yet he must. Alex turned on his heels and dragged himself off to the bathroom for a cold shower.

It didn't help. The second he stepped back into the living room, the stubborn erection he had sought to ease under the cold spray was back. He wasn't sure it would ever go away. They might have to bury him with it when he died.

Funny how that worked. Even after several hours of sleep, his body felt weak. Except for that one part.

He grabbed the cell phone and went outside to the car. A quick search turned up the cord that fit into the cigarette lighter for recharge. Alex left the barn door open while he ran the motor long enough to at least partially charge the battery. He had meant to do that last night, before he'd gotten drugged into oblivion.

When he went back inside, he sat by the window, not trusting himself near the bed.

He heard her stir, but forced himself not to turn
around. The bed creaked as she got out, as did the hardwood floor when she made her way to him.

“I'm glad you're feeling better.” She hugged him from behind.

 

N
ICOLA FELT HIS MUSCLES
stiffen and let him go. Maybe he didn't like her touching him. Although, he had seemed to like her well enough when he had kissed her last night. Twice.

He smelled like soap, his dark hair still wet from the shower. She glanced at his hands and neck. He had bandaged his burns.

“How are you doing?” She went to the kitchen and started breakfast. He needed to eat to replace the blood he had lost.

“Fine. Don't ever knock me out again.”

“What?”

“The Algmir. You left us exposed.”

Sheesh, he should be thanking her for making him feel better. He had needed rest. “I was handling security.”

He made a rude sound. “You didn't wake up when I took the gun from you.”

She fixed him with a stare. “Are we or are we not still alive?”

He had nothing to say to that.

She looked through the cabinets. The man needed a decent meal. Something to make him less grumpy.
Eggs and bacon and home fries. She opened a can of organic chunky potato soup with bacon, the closest thing they had, and dumped its contents into a pot to warm up on the stove.

He came over to sit at the table, gulped down the soup when it was ready, then ate a full MRE and downed two glasses of water. She cleaned up his mess.

“Thank you.” He reached for her hand as she bustled around to keep busy.

The banked fire in his eyes awakened all her senses at once. She looked away, her gaze settling on the old scars below his elbow. Without thinking, she reached out to trace them with a finger. He didn't pull away this time.

“Chemical burns,” he said with a matter-of-fact voice.

She waited for him to tell her more, not sure if he would.

“I was working on infiltrating a biochemical weapons factory overseas. Had inside help from one of the scientists forced to work there.”

“What happened?”

“Somehow they caught on to him.” He swallowed. “They asked him about me, and he refused to answer. They shot his wife in front of him.”

“Oh my God.”

“When he still didn't talk, they shot his son. With
guns to his daughter's head, he finally told them all he knew. It wasn't much, so they shot the daughter, too, then beheaded him in the town square for treason.”

“Did they catch you?”

“Almost. They set a trap, but I managed to get away with only this.” He pointed to his back, then didn't say anything more for a while.

“Abu was my friend. I talked him into cooperating. I had authorization to offer him and his family asylum as soon as the operation was over.”

 

A
LEX LOOKED UP
and watched as tears filled her eyes. She rubbed them away, but more took their place, their flow unstoppable like soldiers spilling from their bunkers, rushing in each other's steps to battle.

The only other person he'd talked to about this was Colonel Wilson. Hard to believe the Colonel would trust him with Nicola, come to think of it, considering that the last man he'd worked with and his family were dead. Not exactly the right recommendation for a bodyguard.

But the Colonel did trust him to get the job done. Trouble was, Alex wasn't sure he trusted himself.

A fat tear rolled down Nicola's face. It touched him that she'd cry for Abu and his family, people she didn't even know.

“Oh, Alex. I'm so sorry. It must have been terrible
for you.” She wiped the tears with the back of her hand.

She was crying for him?
The thought was so unlikely, it took him a heartbeat or two to catch up with it.

She hadn't cried when people were shooting to kill her, when she'd had to take over the wheel in the middle of a high-speed chase, when her house was burning. But she cried for him.

He pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face against his shirt. He couldn't remember anyone ever crying for him before, caring enough to cry.

That's what did him in at the end—not her tantalizing curves or intoxicating allure, but her tears.

He kissed the soft curls on the top of her head, and when she looked up, he kissed away her tears. Then, while he was at it, he kissed her lips too, with military thoroughness.

No vest stood between them this time, and he could not keep his hands off her, exploring her voluptuous beauty, reveling in the full breasts that filled his palms to overflowing. When his thumbs found her nipples, she moaned into his mouth.

He felt much better—the result of having a good meal in his stomach and Nicola in his lap. The day was shaping up well. They were back in the safe house, and, considering last night's events, they would probably stay here for some time. The thought
of extended inactivity didn't seem to bother him as much as it had in the past. He kissed her for all he was worth. Yeah, he could take a few days of this…

Or more.

No. Not more. He couldn't do more. He shouldn't even be doing what he was already doing. But, damn, it felt good. Even if they could go no further. Frustration might kill him, but having his lips on hers and his hands on her body were worth it.

Another minute and he would stop. He was responsible enough not to go too far. He was a trained military man with all kinds of discipline.

As if she had read his thoughts, she pulled away and stood. Too soon, but probably better that way. He came off the chair, too, wanting to get past the awkward moment when they would both mumble something idiotic then walk in opposite directions to pretend the last few minutes hadn't happened.

Instead Nicola looked into his eyes and said, “I want you so much, it drives me crazy.”

Her words slammed into his chest with enough force to nearly knock him back onto the chair. Oh, hell. Feeling none of his injuries, he lifted her into his arms and walked to the bed.

Unable to take his lips from hers long enough to see what he was doing, he tumbled onto the sheets with her. She kissed him, holding nothing back, and helped him peel off her T-shirt, until her generous
breasts spilled into the light for his hungry gaze. He buried his head between them, lost in the feeling of her velvet skin against his cheeks.

He tasted one then the other, going back and forth, a man with a new addiction. She was everything he had thought he would never have. A woman who was willing to accept the half answers he was able to give about his job, who could look at his scars and not turn away repulsed. Smart, beautiful, generous.

He had spent hours on end imagining her like this in his arms, and now that she was here, he had trouble believing it.

He trailed kisses down her belly, caressing her hips and lavishing her belly button. He was determined not to stop until he tasted every maddening curve. A man on a mission, his objective was clear: to make her blood rush as crazy with desire as she made his.

His path unobstructed by underwear, he moved lower and lower, aroused by her moans then satisfied by her sudden silence once he had leisurely sampled everything.

He came up next to her and kissed her swollen lips. Long moments later, he pulled back and tried to memorize her face the way she looked just now, flushed with desire, smiling, ready to give herself to him.

He moved back just enough to remove his clothes, then kissed her again as he positioned himself above her.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against her lips, knowing he'd die if she said no, yet still willing to stop.

She pushed him away enough to look him fully in the eyes. “I've never been more sure about anything.”

He crushed her to him, ready to devour the mouth that had spilled those precious words. Positioned at her opening, he stopped, swore as he pulled away.

“What?” She tried to pull him back.

“Protection. We don't have any.” He cursed himself and fell on his back on the bed next to her.

She turned to her side and watched him for an agonizing moment. “I'm not ovulating right now.” Her cheeks flushed. “If that's what you're worried about.”

She didn't know how much she tempted him.

“Oh,” she said when he didn't respond. “I've only been with one man before. We always used protection.”

He turned to look at her. The frustration in her eyes mirrored his own. Using protection was the only rule he'd never broken. Until now. “Me, too.”

He groaned with need as she slid into his arms.

“So—” Nicola nibbled his ear. “Since we're in a safe house, does that mean this is safe sex?”

He couldn't help grinning at the pun. “Absolutely,” he said, and claimed her lips.

By the time he entered her he was ready to burst at the sensation of her tight, hot muscles closing around him. He was going to shame himself climaxing way too soon. SDDU soldiers prided themselves on their stamina. He feared he wouldn't be able to show Nicola any of it. At least, not this time.

He waited unmoving, savoring the moment and the feel of her. Then he pushed forward inch by agonizing inch. She was wet for him, her sheath welcoming. She squirmed, nearly undoing the last of his self-control. He'd been wanting this from the first moment he'd seen her, fantasized about it during the endless nights of covert surveillance. And now they were here. Reality made his wildest fantasies pale in comparison.

Her skin looked like sweet cream in the moonlight, and he lapped it up. He kissed every inch available to his searching lips, his hips moving forward still. And then he was finally in all the way, completely surrounded.

She locked her feet around his back and drew him deeper. No military self-discipline training had prepared him for that. Nothing had ever felt so good.
They fit each other like two perfect halves of a whole, like she'd been meant to be his.

He drew a ragged breath as he began to move in her, each slow stroke the most exquisite torture. She moved with him, matching his rhythm at first, then taking over, dictating the speed. They came together faster and faster in a frenzied coupling, in runaway passion. He wasn't going to make it. Alex shuddered, then the next second felt her spasms, and finally he let go his release. The waves of pleasure seemed to go on and on, cresting deep inside his body.

She clung to him, as he did to her, unable to move.

Several minutes passed before he regained his bearings enough to roll off her and, still not ready to part, he pulled her with him.

“That thing you said about the one guy?” Alex asked a while later, when he could speak again.

“Does it bother you?” She came up on her elbows to look at him, so beautiful it took his breath away.

He grunted.

“Why?” Her breast brushed against his arm, stirring renewed interest in parts that by all rights should have been panting with exhaustion.

He could distinctly feel a nipple poke his skin. Damned hard to keep track of what they were talking about. The guy. Right.

“On the one hand, I want to track him down and kill him for touching you, on the other, I want to slap myself for taking advantage of a virtual innocent.”

She smiled. “Would it help if I told you he never, um, made me happy…that way?”

“You mean you never had a—”

She shook her head.

Alex stared at her. “It doesn't help. It just confuses the issue. Now I want to kill him for letting you waste your time with him. But then, he must have made me look good by comparison.” He looked at her from hooded eyelids, enjoying the smile that spread on her face.

“Pretty damn good.”

“Great. Does that mean I…made you happy?”

“Very.” She snuggled up to him, the picture of contentment.

Very
was good. He hoped she meant if she had climaxed any harder she would have needed medical attention. Like him. He closed his arms around her and held her tight. “My name is Alejandro Jesús Rodriguez,” he whispered into her hair.

She lifted her head to kiss his chin. “Thank you. I know you can't tell me more than that.”

And for the first time ever, he wanted to. He wanted one person outside the U.S. government to know him, to care whether he lived or died. “My mother died in Cuba when I was six. My father brought me to the U.S.”

“That must have been hard.”

“We didn't speak English. He got a job on a farm where he thought that didn't matter. But he had an accident. Didn't understand the instructions and one of those big farm machines…” He hadn't talked
about it in years. Decades. Wasn't even sure what had happened. He'd been too young to understand.

Nicola tightened her arms around him.

“A family in Miami took me in after that. I joined the Army as soon as I was old enough. There had never been any possibility of having money for college. Made it to Special Forces. Later on, I got recruited for a project that was looking for high-performance loners for confidential operations with elevated risk levels.”

She snuggled into the crook of his neck. “Thank you. But you didn't have to tell me.”

“I wanted to.” He kissed the top of her head, then her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, and she responded without holding back.

And once they started kissing, neither of them could stop. When they finally pulled apart, he propped himself on an elbow next to her to drink in the sight of her magnificent body.

“I worked with a Moroccan architect once,” he told her. The man had provided him with blueprints to one of the key palaces in the region. “He used to say curved lines stimulated creativity. Must be something to it. I'm feeling extraordinarily creative.”

He showed her what he meant until they were depleted from lovemaking once again. This time he made love to her slowly, building her passion touch
by touch, kiss by kiss, pushing her over the edge again and again.

When the phone rang, he swore, tempted to ignore it. Of course, he couldn't. Not when Nicola's life might depend on whatever information the Colonel had.

“Rodriguez.”

“Spike's on his way over there. He should be showing up in another ten or twenty minutes,” the Colonel said.

“Anything new on the case?”

“No, but we're tightening security, both around the senator and his daughter. The FBI assigned three bodyguards to each, plus I'm leaving Spike with Nicola. She seems to be the primary target for now. We're leaving her where she is. Probably less risky than getting her out into the open while trying to move her down here.”

“Spike's taking over?”

“You're shipping out tonight. Come see me as soon as you're done briefing him and we'll discuss it.”

He swallowed, looking at Nicola on the bed, smiling at him so full of trust, her heart on her nonexistent sleeve. Like it or not, by making love to her, he had compromised the whole operation. Would he have recognized an enemy soldier at the window while he was lost in the pleasures of her body? He
had allowed himself to be distracted, and that could have cost both their lives. He didn't much care about his own, but he did care about Nicola's.

She was better off with guards who were focused on protecting her instead of getting her between the sheets.

“See you tonight then,” he said, and hung up the phone.

“Is Spike coming?”

“He's taking over the operation. Three FBI agents are also assigned to you now. They should be arriving later.”

“And you?”

“I'll probably be shipping out overseas after my briefing tonight.”

“I see.” Her face went pale.

He hated this, but it had to be done. “Nicola, look, I…this is what my life is like.”

“Of course.” She wrapped the sheet around her and scooted off the bed. “I understand.” She headed for the bathroom, walking around him.

“Don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad.” Her voice sounded lifeless. “I just want to get dressed before Spike gets here.”

He couldn't stand the dejected set of her shoulders, and before he knew what he was doing, he had closed the distance between them and pulled her into
his arms. “Look, it's better for you this way. You need bodyguards who are not personally involved.”

He couldn't not think of Abu and his family. Technically his mission hadn't included their protection, but he felt responsible for them. He should have been able to save them. But it wasn't too late for Nicola, and he would make damned sure she got the best security detail available.

“Do I get a vote in what's best for me?” She looked up and his gut tightened at the sight of the teardrop in the corner of her eye.

He shook his head. “I'm sorry. Not this time.”

“I see,” she said again, pulling away.

“I promise I will find you when I come back.” Although, he could not promise when that would be, a month from now or six, or a year. Maybe more. Maybe never. And the scary thing was this time he really wanted to come back. It mattered.

“I didn't plan this.” He tried to take her hand, but she wouldn't let him.

“It's okay, Alex. It really is.” She turned and walked into the bathroom.

He stared at the closed door, knowing it wasn't okay at all, but powerless to do anything about it. He had nothing whatsoever to offer her. He didn't even exist. He owned no property, although he could certainly afford it, but his brief visits to the States were usually spent at an army base near Washington, the
fewer hassles the better. Even his car and gun weren't his own—they were issued by the SDDU, and now that they were destroyed, he'd be issued another set. His time wasn't his own, either, nor was his life. He had pledged it to the government of the United States of America, a decision he'd never second-guessed…until now.

He would hand her over to Spike because he trusted the man, because Nicola was better off without him, because his country needed him somewhere else. All perfectly valid reasons, yet they failed to satisfy him.

 

N
ICOLA WASHED HER FACE
in cold water, then pressed her fingers to her eyelids to hold back the tears. She hadn't expected this. Then again, from the moment he had burst into her life to save her from a hail of bullets, nothing about Alex had been predictable.

A week ago he'd been nothing but the male lead in a fuzzy fantasy she'd concocted about a gorgeous guy at the gym. Then the world had turned upside down and her life had become unrecognizable. And the only reason she still had her life was the man in the living room, the man who had just made incredible love to her—twice—and was now planning to leave her.

She dressed, grateful that she'd had the state of
mind to wash her underwear the night before. Hopefully, Spike would bring her more.

If her house still stood.

The thought knocked the air out of her lungs for a moment. What had become of the Tweedles? She felt an overpowering rush of guilt for leaving them. What had become of her world? She had worked so hard to create a life separate from the political madness of her father's.

And now her pets were God only knew where, her house probably gone, including her home office with all her business documents. She would need months to recover, to be fully operational, and that was after Alex's boss—whoever the man was—decided to let her resume her life and leave here. Where would her clients be by then? Not a hard question to answer. They'd be with the competition.

Everything she'd ever worked for was gone—and all because of what? Because her father had stepped on some toes in China while carrying out orders from the government. It had nothing to do with her! How much more would she have to unwillingly give?

One thing for sure, if she wanted to separate her life from the intrigues of politics and government, getting involved with an undercover agent was not the way to go. God, what had she been thinking? Having her life stolen was enough, she wasn't going to offer up her heart to be broken, as well.

Alex was right. She'd be better off when he left.

Voices filtered through the door. Spike must have arrived. Nicola brushed her teeth, then ran the comb through her hair. The voices rose.

“Damn it, Alex. You should have told the Colonel you were injured. You're not out in the field where nothing can be done.”

“I'm fine.”

“No, you're not. You should be at Walter Reed and not in a high-risk operation where being less than one hundred percent could get you into serious trouble.”

“It wasn't a high-risk operation until yesterday.”

“It is now. You're to report to Washington post-haste for your briefing.”

A moment of silence passed before Alex spoke. “What did you get from the shooter?”

“Not much. He stuck to his story about the family vendetta until I questioned him on the new attack. He's been quiet since. There's someone out there he's more afraid of than us.”

“Any connection to Du Shaozu?”

“None. He's a legit businessman. Believe me I had him checked thoroughly.”

“I still don't like him.”

“Want me to give you a couple of guesses why?”

“Shut up.” Nicola heard Alex's annoyed response through the door.

Had Spike picked up on the vibes between her and Alex? Better go out there before they decided to discuss her. She glanced briefly in the mirror—looking as bad as she felt and with no makeup to disguise the dark circles beneath her eyes. But under the circumstances, her appearance was the least of her worries. She turned off the light and opened the door.

Spike leaned against the counter while Alex hulked by the window, their conversation halted the second she appeared.

“Hello, Nicola.” Spike turned to her with a smile. “How are you?”

“Okay, all things considered.” She looked at the towel-covered cage next to the bulging duffel bag at Spike's feet, her hopes rising. “Have you been to my house?”

He nodded. “The birds are fine. The garage is a mess, though. The rest is still standing but there's considerable smoke damage. I got you some standard-issue military clothes. Sorry. That's the best I could do.”

“Thank you.” She pulled the towel from the cage, wanting to kiss the finches in joy when they immediately started their bickering.

“I need to grab a few more things from the car. My new car, since someone let my old one get destroyed.” Spike gave Alex a pointed look. “Once Alex goes, I don't want to have to leave the house
until the Feds get here,” he said before walking out the door.

“Maybe I should stay.” Alex stepped toward her.

She couldn't let him. He had to go to Washington where his colonel would make sure he got medical care. He had to leave before she made an even bigger mess of her life and fell in love with him.

“Have you ever done something in the heat of the moment, then regretted it once you had time to think?”

His sharp gaze cut to her soul. “More times than I care to remember.”

“I think you should leave. I'd prefer it if you did.”

“Here we go, that'll be the last of it.” Spike came through the door with two more duffel bags.

Alex looked at Nicola, his dark eyes unreadable. “I'll be going, then.” He picked up Mrs. Slocsky's car keys from the counter. “Best of luck to both of you.”

He was out the door before she could say thank you.

She busied herself in the kitchen to keep from running to the window when she heard the car pull away. Not until the noise of the motor faded into the distance did she realize this was probably the last time she would ever see him.

Her hands stilled in the sink. The cup she'd been washing slipped from her fingers. She was incapable
of doing anything but stare at the suds as they popped on the surface of the water, a terrible ache spreading in her chest.

The breeze outside brushed some of the tall weeds against the living room window, startling her. The sky looked overcast. Rain was coming. That uneasy feeling she had experienced the first time she'd seen the house settled on her again.

“How is my father handling all this?”

Spike looked up from checking one of Alex's sensors. “Fine. He's got an excellent security detail. No attempts on him so far. His biggest worry seems to be you. The only reason he's not here is because we wouldn't tell him where you were.”

That surprised her. Other than insisting that she'd attend all major political functions with him, he hadn't paid much attention to her since her mother's death. She'd gone along with that for a while, craving his attention, glad for his company any way she could get it. But then she'd grown up and moved away. They hadn't attended a reception together in ages.