Tangled Pursuit (16 page)

Wyatt . . .
He was like sunlight, silent, moving warmly through her at odd moments.

Pressing her hand to her heart, Tal deliberately took the concrete stairs slowly up to the second floor. She’d seen his worry about this mission. There was actually more that she saw and felt around him, too. There was that Anatolian leopard–like protectiveness pouring off him, surrounding her. And more . . . but Tal was afraid to name it. Or even admit it.

She just wasn’t ready. Wyatt was a SEAL. He could get killed at any moment. It was so easy, and yet so hard, for her to open her heart up to this man. She’d had no control over the feelings flowing fast and hard through her toward him.

At the landing, Tal stopped, leaned against the gray cinder-block wall, and closed her eyes. Her hand was pressed hard against her heart, and she felt the hot sting of tears. They were tears of fear—fear of allowing Wyatt into her heart and of the daily terror she would live with if she did so. Tal couldn’t count how many tears she’d cried after losing Brian. Agony tore at her. Gulping several times, Tal forced them back because she had to.

His kiss . . . Wyatt’s kiss had ripped away every shield she’d ever put into place. But he knew . . . bless him . . . he knew that quiet gentleness was the key to unlocking her imprisoned, yearning heart.

She knew that Wyatt had allowed her the time and space to get used to his nearness. Oh, she’d felt him wanting her, like that Anatolian leopard that had soundlessly stalked her without her knowing he was there. Until he wanted to let her know he was there, and then it was too late.

Wyatt had the patience of Job, Tal decided, and she had to admire that quality in him. That first, tentative kiss, when he’d asked her if she wanted to kiss him in return, had broken through her last defenses. His mouth had been strong but controlled, and she’d leaned up urgently, wanting more, much more.

The second time they’d met and kissed, the heat rushed through her body as he spanned her mouth with his own, testing her, silently asking her how much she wanted of him, always monitoring her reaction. And he’d moved his mouth slowly over hers, memorizing her, inhaling her scent as he worshipped her lips. At least, that’s what it felt like to Tal.

It was as if Wyatt had understood that beneath her sniper exterior, she was like a fragile vase that would break apart if too much pressure or force was applied to it. And he was right. As a sniper? She was without peer, confident and strong. As a woman? Breakable in comparison.

Wyatt had stalked her perfectly, she decided, opening her eyes now and staring at the gray cinder-block wall in front of her. That second time, she’d come to him, not the other way around. And by her own choice, she had given him permission to
really
kiss her. And he had. His mouth had curved gently but firmly around hers, nudging her lips, opening her a little more with each gliding movement, taking it slow. He’d given her exactly what she wanted.

Tal had never felt so lost, so suspended in the pleasure of one man’s mouth, as she had with Wyatt. He was magical, so in tune with her and her needs, as if reading her mind, reading her like the magician he was.

She was embarrassed to recall that she’d been so wet that her panties had become soaked through, the insides of her thighs damp, eager to be plundered. Whatever they shared between them was so powerful, so all-consuming, that it now felt scary. No man had ever made her feel so wanton, so wild and untamed.

It was as if this man, whom she had resisted for three years, had the innate knowledge to handle every part of her personality.

She had to admit, though, that he was always gentle. God, how she loved his gentleness! The way he’d cradled that baby out at the village had filled her with longing. For all his male strength, he had held that baby with such loving tenderness. Tal had never realized a man could be that caring or nurturing, except for her dad and her brother, Matt. They shared those same rare qualities.

She had to admit it—she was starved for everything Wyatt could share with her. If he ever touched her again, and went farther than his glorious kisses, Tal knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself.

Grunting with frustration, she glanced at her watch. She had five minutes to get up to her office, grab the mission plans, and get over to the major’s office.

As she quickly climbed the rest of the steps up to the second floor, fear rose in Tal, reminding her of the ultimate price for reaching out to love another military man. Could her heart stand losing Wyatt, too? She hesitated at the door before pulling it open. Did she have the strength? Right now, Tal honestly didn’t know.

T
AL WAS SO
glad that her day was over. The missions were done and approved by the major. She’d gone to her B-hut to get into civilian attire. And right as night laid its velvet darkness across the base, Wyatt had shown up on the porch of her B-hut. She’d closed the door and locked it, walking with him down to where they couldn’t be heard by eavesdroppers.

“Where are you taking me?” Tal asked as she peered through the darkness on the concrete path with Wyatt at her side.

“Oh, a little-known SEAL hideout of sorts,” he teased her lightly. “You know us black ops types—when we need some time with a special lady, we’re going to find something on base that’s private.”

She smiled a little, following him across the gravel and past the three-story building in the shadows. “I’ll bet all you all have your own little nooks and crannies for occasions like this one.”

He chuckled quietly and slid his hand around her arm as they emerged on the north side of the shadowed, silent warehouse. “It’s right here.”

Halting, Tal watched as Wyatt produced a key, opening it.

“Go on in,” he said, gesturing her forward.

Her heart took off in anticipation. Above all, Tal knew she didn’t dare kiss this man again or she’d lose her heart, her soul, everything to him. And her fear was rising up just as powerfully as her need for him. She halted just inside. There were no windows in this single-story cinder-block building. The door shut with finality.

Wyatt turned on a small flashlight he had in his pocket. He moved it around, giving her a look inside the quiet building. “This is a supply depot of sorts for the chow hall. You can see all the extra tables and chairs stacked around,” he said, gesturing to them. “The SEAL teams know the chow hall schedule, and this place is always quiet from dusk to dawn. The only time guys come over here to get extra chairs and tables is during the daylight hours.”

He cupped her elbow, leading her down the central aisle. “Now, over here,” he murmured, halting in front of a small room built within the structure, “is where we bring our ladies.”

Tal grimaced. “Wyatt, I’m not interested in going there. I’m not one of your ladies, and if it’s such a popular spot, others will know about it. I’m not comfortable here. I want to leave, now.”

“Darlin’, I told you earlier, we’re here to talk. This isn’t a romantic rendezvous. I think I could do a lot better than this. Okay?”

The amusement in his drawl dismantled some of her resistance, and Tal turned, looking over at him, that big Texas grin planted on a mouth that had pleasured her so well.

“Okay,” she managed in a strained tone. “For now . . .”

“We need a place where we can talk so that no one can eavesdrop on us,” he said, opening the door. He flipped on a light and another switch for the overhead fan, and stepped aside. “Go on in.”

Tal’s gaze quickly swept the large room as she entered it. The place was at least two hundred square feet. There was a dark blue carpet on the floor; her boots sank into it. To her left was a queen-size bed and nearby nightstand with a lamp and clock on it. To her right, she saw a small brown leather couch, two lamp stands on either end of it, an overstuffed chair with a coffee table situated between them. The walls were pale blue, making it almost feel like a home. There was a small refrigerator in another corner and a hot plate, a teakettle, and a coffee machine nearby.

“No place like home,” she murmured, turning and watching him close the door.

“Like it?” Wyatt gestured toward the couch. “Come in and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got beer in the fridge and it’s cold. Interested?”

When wasn’t she interested in a cold beer to wash the desert sand out of her throat? Tal took off her cap and set it on the lampstand.

“Okay,” she agreed, still tentative. Sitting down on one corner of the sofa, she watched Wyatt. The look in his eyes was that of a man wanting his woman. She crossed her legs as he handed her the cold aluminum can of beer. “Thanks,” she said.

Wyatt took the overstuffed chair opposite her. He sat down and dropped his baseball cap on the wooden coffee table between them. “If you get warm, let me know, okay?” He pointed to the corner where the refrigerator sat. “We have a small air conditioner that cools this place off nicely.”

Tal gratefully took several swallows of the cold beer, purring as the bubbling, icy liquid washed out the grit in her throat. Sitting up, both boots on the carpet, she looked around and asked, “How did this all come about? Does your CO know?”

Slouching back in the chair, Wyatt said, “This has been here since Bagram was built. The first SEAL platoon to come in here snooped around and decided this was a good place to set up camp. They got the cinder blocks and built this room within the supply building. Furniture and other things were added. By the time I got here six years ago, it looked pretty much like it does now. We keep the fridge stocked with beer and other junk food.”

He motioned to the cabinets above the fridge. “There’s all kinds of junk food up there, too. We have a scrounger in our platoon, and when we’re running low on cheese, crackers, salsa, or whatever, he goes and finds us some more. We don’t ask where or how he got ’em.” He gave her a coyote grin.

Shaking her head, Tal muttered, “I’m well acquainted with scroungers. You SEALs are really in stealth mode. I’ve been here five years and never knew about this place.”

“Oh,” Wyatt said casually, “usually we blindfold our guests so they don’t know where we’re taking them. When we’re done, we blindfold them again, take them out, and drive them back to their B-hut, none the wiser about where this place is located. That way, we keep it a secret among the secret keepers.”

“You’re joking! You actually blindfold the women?”

He shrugged and chuckled. “Yeah, kind of for fun, and they kind of like it. The women never tell. At least, they haven’t yet. They like this place as much as we do. And since we can’t break into the conjugal unit here on base, because we’re not married, our little home here suits all of us just fine. Most of the time? The guys come over here to watch a football game or get drunk where they aren’t going to be breaking a lot of rules. And, believe it or not, we’ve got a number of SEALs who have a serious relationship with a lady here on base, and they use this space for quality time, to talk. It isn’t always about sex.”

“Incredible,” Tal said, drinking the beer.

Turning the tables, he asked, “You’re telling me you Recon Marines don’t have your own little pad somewhere here on base?”

She raised a brow. “If we do, I don’t know about it.”

“Well, darlin’, you’re an officer. Your enlisted Marines probably have just such a place, but aren’t about to tell you or your major about it.”

Her smile broadened. “Frankly, if I did know, I’d do nothing about it unless someone told me directly. Then I’d have to because I’m an officer. You can’t have men and women become monks, swearing off sex. It just doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your Marines know the lay of the land and keep you uninformed. With these alpha-wolf SEAL brothers of mine, if they aren’t focused on a mission, they’re focused on sports. High testosterone in these guys.”

She gave him a dry look. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

“What? Because I enjoy sex?” Wyatt saw her face turn pink. “Darlin’, sex is never going out of style, whether we’re safe at home or here in a combat zone. Sex doesn’t recognize anything but the opposite gender. You know that.”

Yes, she knew that in spades. Especially with Wyatt.

“Pink is becoming on you, Tal.” He gestured toward her face. “You look more like an innocent twenty-year-old college coed right now instead of an ass-kicking Marine sniper.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” she returned. Although she had no idea what was going to happen next. And truth be told, she was up for whatever he had planned.

CHAPTER 9

T
AL DIDN’T KNOW
if she’d drunk the cold beer too fast or if she was just exhausted, or if it was a combination of the two. But she did feel the alcohol hit her harder than usual. Trying for an all-business attitude, she said, “Okay, so what did you want to talk about?”

He roused himself, finished off his beer, and set it on the lampstand next to his chair. “How did the major react to the program’s assessment of the missions?” Wyatt asked her, not mincing words.

“Well, I have to admit, he was amazed. I gave him some basic background on you and what you’d done without going into too many details. He’s going to study it more closely because, as you know, everyone has his or her own way of creating a mission plan.”

“Yes, they do.” He searched her face. “Did he say anything about the sixth mission? Your mission?”

“No. He saw that the program said there was a seventy percent chance of failure, a busted mission, but I pointed out that our perishable-intel guy wasn’t wrong all the time. He’s got a fifty percent accuracy rate.”

Wyatt scowled. “That means the other fifty percent of the time his intel is unreliable. That’s luck. So you have to decide whether you’re feeling lucky that day if you take a chance on his intel.”

Tal felt his tension, heard it in the vibration of his voice. The concern burning in his eyes for her was real. “We both realize that, Wyatt. Neither the major nor I are just out of the Naval Academy.”

“I know that.” He took a deep breath, an underlying urgency in his low tone. “Can you wait just a bit longer, Tal? Maybe the spooks will get better ground intel from someone else. They’re always picking up chatter on cell phone calls across the Af-Pak border. They might trip on to something useful.”