by Dawson, Zoe
“Coming out of the jail, Dragon,” he said. “Put your hand on my shoulder and your hand on Emma’s, Willow. Keep them there until we’re clear.”
With his automatic weapon at the ready, Joe slipped out the door supporting Emma against him, and Willow sticking close to her. They went around the jail and with a quick, short burst of speed entered the jungle. Joe led them away from the compound at a quick pace.
Her dad was waiting for them up ahead and surprise rolled through her.
“Daddy,” Willow said, and he ran to her. She clung to him, tears clogging her throat at the way he cradled her in his arms.
“My baby girl.” His voice choked and hoarse. “I love you, Alice.”
She laughed softly, so happy to see him and to hear him call her that wacky nickname again. “I can’t believe you’re here. How?”
“We’ll explain later, but right now we’re on a timetable.”
“Right.”
Her whole body was vibrating. Joe and her dad led her to a Range Rover, and there she got water and a power bar. She wolfed it down and got another. It made her so grateful to have something in her stomach. Emma sat on Joe’s lap in the front seat, bonding with him and eating, too, while her dad watched their perimeter. She couldn’t wait to see Hollywood again. She grabbed another bottle of water and guzzled it down with a sigh. As she set the empty bottle into the bag in the back, she saw someone coming through the gloom. He was moving at a quick pace, a prone body across his shoulders.
Her heart beat hard. Hollywood came closer, and Will reached out to take an unconscious Eze from him.
Then Hollywood looked for her.
His jaw was unshaven and grimly set, and even from thirty feet away, Willow could feel the rigid tension in him. When his gaze landed on her, his head dropped, and he fought his emotions. There was a coiled energy in him—as if he was stretched to the limit. His expression was stark. He took a step then broke into a run, sprinting to her.
Her heart full to bursting for the torment stamped on his face, she raced to him.
Then he clutched her to him, his pack making it awkward, but he held her, kissed her. She closed her eyes, holding him fiercely. “I thought I had lost you, babe.”
Badly flustered by her deep, visceral feelings for him, she said, her voice wobbling, “Was Lefty as worried as you were?”
He laughed softly, his voice breaking, his eyes going over her as if assessing if she was really here, lingering on her bruises as his face went dark. “More. He is hell-bent on seeing those pirouettes.”
“Then I will definitely practice harder.” She stared up at him, his features looking as if like they’d been hacked out of granite, but there was something dark and intense in his eyes, something so tormented that made her throat ache and her chest fill up.
“I have no doubt you can do anything you set your mind to.” His gaze locked on her, his voice low and ragged.
Trapped by the intensity of that gaze, Willow stared at him, all her feelings for him swelling up inside her. Then he dropped his head, and his mouth caught hers. The kiss was slow, soft and so unbelievably gentle that it left her breathless, and her whole body turned to jelly. A sudden urgency sizzled through her, and she locked her arms around him.
He broke the kiss. “Easy, babe,” he whispered, the tip of his tongue sliding along her bottom lip. “We’re going to get back here in a bit. I got a terrorist with valuable intel to get back to the States and us out of this place.”
It was enough for now.
A man approached, and Willow said softly in warning. “Someone’s coming.”
“Yup.” Then he came into the light, and she caught her breath. Wow, Asian/American, gorgeous. Was otherworldly sexy part of the SEAL requirements?
He smiled, and it lit up his solemn face. “Glad to see you safe, ma’am.” He reached out his hand as Hollywood went over to Eze, who her dad had already tied up and gagged. “Hello, Willow, Ryuu Shannon. Pleased to meet you.”
“You must be Dragon.” She took his hand, and they shook.
“I am that too, ma’am.” Then he turned away from her and said to Hollywood, “We best be going. They know he’s gone, and they’re amassing for an assault.”
“Everyone into the Rover,” Hollywood said as Dozer picked up Eze and threw him into the back of the vehicle.
Hollywood pulled out a SAT phone and handed it to Dragon. “Get your buddy on the phone. Tell him to fire up that chopper. We need a speedy exfil.”
“Copy that,” Dragon said as he took the phone and started talking as Hollywood pulled out of hiding and drove as fast as the road would allow. But soon, there was an enemy chopper buzzing over them, and Hollywood, sure they had been seen, stepped up the pace. The chopper came back, and they were firing on them.
“Everyone down,” Hollywood said.
High-powered bullets hit the vehicle, and from her hunched over position, Willow prayed.
But when she looked over at Dragon, he grinned. “Bullet proof car.”
Her sigh of relief was short-lived when Hollywood wrestled with the wheel as the Rover jostled them, twisting out of control.
“The tires have been hit,” Dozer called out, and they swerved to the side of the road, crashing into the underbrush as the Rover came to an abrupt halt.
“Is everyone all right?” Hollywood asked, a gash on his forehead where he must have hit the steering wheel.
She nodded when their gazes met as everyone in the vehicle but Eze called out they were okay.
“Let’s go. Bug out,” Hollywood said. He jumped out of the driver’s seat and headed to the back, opening the door and grabbing a helmet with what looked like binoculars attached. He strapped it on, and the other three men did the same.
Hollywood turned to her. “These are night vision goggles, and I’m going to have to carry you. Hold on tight. We’re going to be moving fast.”
Willow nodded as her dad pulled Eze’s still unconscious body out. He slipped on his pack and pulled Eze across his shoulders. Will reached out with his free hand touching, Hollywood’s shoulder, while the other one had Eze’s wrist and ankle in his one-handed grasp.
“Be careful with my daughter,” Will murmured.
“Hoo-yah, Chief.” Hollywood met Will’s gaze as Dozer dipped down and pulled Emma onto his massive shoulders, grabbing her in the same hold Will had Eze in. Then Willow went topsy-turvy as Hollywood easily got her into the now familiar fireman’s carry. “Dragon?”
“Follow me. I have the coordinates,” Dragon said.
They stuck to the trees as the helo followed overhead. Running full out, Hollywood filed in behind Dragon. They crashed through the underbrush and passed a place of death. She could smell the stench as the wind shifted. The night was pitch black, but Hollywood easily navigated with the night vision goggles. They must have run for half an hour, and Hollywood wasn’t even winded. She was jostled around like a sack of potatoes, and her foot and hand were going a little numb.
Then Dragon held up his fist, and they all stopped, the air heavy with moisture. It coated Dragon’s face, and his shirt at the armpits were dark with perspiration. When she lifted her head, she could see an open field.
“Here. Just FYI,” Dragon said, his vigilance all-consuming. “He doesn’t have an attack chopper, but I have an RPG launcher in my pack. When he lands, we’ll need to get to it ASAP. If the chopper shows, I’ll blow it out of the sky.”
Then the sound of a helicopter came in the distance. It was their lifeline to safety, and she’d never been so happy to hear it in her life.
They waited until Dragon said, “Go!” as his buddy came in for a landing.
Everyone rushed out into the open field. The angry rotors of the chopper rose out of the trees, and the metal-on-metal sound of them opening up their weapons strafed across the ground, hitting at their feet. An explosion sounded behind them, and all of them were thrown to the ground, except Dragon who stood there, upright and holding a menacing-looking tube. He
aimed, even as the machine gun fire from the chopper grinded, the bullets red and missile-like as they hit the ground.
“Got you,” Dragon said as he depressed a switch and a rocket fired from the tube. In seconds, the enemy chopper was engulfed in flames, and it plummeted, the glow of the fire lighting up the night.
Then someone grabbed her, and dragged her back, a hand over her mouth. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t. He turned her and tapped her on the chin, and darkness rushed in, covering her like a blanket of inky darkness.
* * *
Hollywood, still reeling from the explosion, sat up at Dragon’s cry. “Eze’s got Willow! He’s getting away.”
He rose and looked toward the trees then ran to Will who was unconscious, a gash on his forehead. The bindings that had been around Eze’s wrist were scattered in pieces. The explosion must have blown him free.
Hollywood said as he handed his pack to Dozer, “Get to the chopper. I’ll get Willow.”
Dragon manhandled Will onto his back, and they took off. Hollywood’s gaze narrowed on the running forms, rage fueling him. He was not going to lose her. He barreled toward the trees. His advantage was he had the goggles, while Eze was struggling in the darkness. He caught up to them as they reached the villager’s camp.
Eze turned and put a knife to Willow’s throat.
Her eyes were wide with terror, but she stared at him like he was what she’d called him—her knight in shining armor.
He pulled out his side arm and pointed the gun at Eze. “I’ll cut her jugular before you can pull the trigger.” It was no idle threat. “Eject the bullets and drop the gun. We’ll settle our differences like you did with my brother.”
Hollywood recognized Will’s knife in Eze’s hand. He reached for the handle of his and slipped out of the bulky tac vest for ease of movement. Eze grinned and threw Willow onto the ground.
She scrambled away and looked at the useless gun, the bullets lost in the dark undergrowth.
Eze crowded in, and they squared off, Eze grinning like the evil bastard he was. “After I kill you, I’m going to fuck her and then cut her throat.”
“You’ll never get that chance.” Hollywood waited for Eze to strike, and it came lightning quick.
Hollywood blocked it, driving his fist into Eze’s rib cage, then gripped his wrist and viciously forced it backward. Eze cried out and pounded on him, trying to loosen his hold, but Hollywood bent his arm farther back. Eze gritted his teeth, punching Hollywood in the face and slashing his arm. The knife cut a shallow slice that stung like a mother.
Hollywood backed up, and Eze tossed the knife, dark with Hollywood’s blood, from hand to hand. He lunged again, went for the knee and kicked it out from under him. Hollywood stumbled but righted himself in time with the experience of training giving him an edge.
Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Willow looking for the bullets on the ground, the handgun in her hand.
Hollywood slashed in a wide arc and caught Eze’s chest as he cried out and jumped back. They circled each other looking for an opening.
Willow loaded the gun and turned to fire at Eze.
But he threw a rock, hit her in the temple, and she went down, the gun sliding across the leaves right to Eze. He stopped it with his foot and picked it up, pointing it directly at Hollywood.
“I win. Don’t worry. I’ll send her to hell to be with you. But not before we have some fun,” he gloated. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
With a flick of the wrist, Hollywood threw the knife, and it imbedded into Eze’s chest, impaling his heart as Eze froze and choked. He died instantly.
But Hollywood didn’t see him fall. He was kneeling over Willow, a bruise and a gash forming on her temple. She roused when he picked her up in his arms.
“Hang on, babe.” He ran.
As he broke out into the open field, he could hear a chopper buzzing in for the kill, and he was right in their zone. Dragon, Will and Dozer egged him on as their arms wind-milled. Just as he reached the chopper, the enemy bird fired. Hollywood handed Willow to them and climbed inside, and they shut the doors as he fell into one of the seats.
“That was cutting it close,” Dragon said as his buddy brought the chopper into the air and they sped away from the field.
“Where’s Eze?”
“He didn’t make it,” Hollywood said, turning to look at Willow. They might have lost valuable intel, but he would never have to worry about him coming after Willow or Emma again. That threat was over, but Bill and Ted were still out there with the last warhead and possibly a deadly nerve gas.
16
Early morning light filtered in the Crowne Hotel windows, held back by curtains, a kind of snuggly, warm delicious feeling settling over Willow’s clean, rested body. There were tender spots, but they would heal. The bed was so comfortable and would have been even more so if Hollywood was in here with her. He’d slept with her, the scent of him still clung to the sheets, and she rolled onto her stomach, every shred of tension dissipated. It felt so good to wake up relaxed and refreshed.
The door opened, and the most delicious smell hit her. She pushed up from the mattress and got a load of Hollywood. He was so beautiful, even with his doctored gash and the bruises, his features chiseled to near godly perfection—straight, narrow nose, deep-set eyes, hair thick spikes of black silk. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and a pair of sinfully sexy gray sweat pants that molded to his thighs and cupped in all the right places.
He toted a coffee carrier with two fabulous cups that were the source of the smell, a small white bag and two shopping-sized bags.
“Tell me that’s coffee you’ve got in your hands,” she said.
“It is coffee, a mocha latte if I’m not mistaken.”
She smiled fully as he approached the bed. “Coffee is the foundation of my food pyramid.”
Hollywood laughed, pulled a cup off the carrier and handed it to her. She took a sip and closed her eyes, the heat settling on her tongue as the chocolate enriched flavor of the coffee slid down her throat in ecstasy.
Eyeing the white bag in his hands, she lifted her chin and nudged it toward the mystery bag. “Whatcha got in there, miracle worker?”
“Chocolate croissants. You want one?”
Willow breathed deep and rose up on her knees in the bed, the covers falling away from her body. She was wearing his Navy T-shirt and nothing else. She cupped the back of his neck and kissed his mouth. “You really are my hero.”
He chuckled, set the bag and his coffee down on the nightstand and pulled up a seat to the bed.
“You can come in here with me,” she said.
“Nope, Ruckus and Kat Harrington are on their way here, and I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.” He looked at her with his crystal blue eyes. “Literally with my pants down and my dick buried inside you. That’s what’s going to happen if I get in there with you.” He chuckled and looked away, the temptation written across his face.
She smiled and nodded. She couldn’t deny it. “You’re right. That would be exactly what would happen.”
“They want to interview you and Emma. You up for that?”
Willow sank back down and reached for the bag, pulling out a croissant, sticking out her lower lip.
He groaned, leaned forward and sucked on it, then kissed her. “Aw, babe, I’d rather not go into a meeting with my LT and the station chief for the CIA with a hard on.”
“So no pouting or being a sexy brat?”
“You are already a sexy brat, but the no pouting would help. I’ll make it up to you.”
“In that case, then yes, of course I’m up for it. Any way Emma and I can help, we will.”
“Good.”
She studied him, but he looked fine, not a trace of tension in him. “Are you in trouble with the Navy?”
Hollywood shrugged. “I’m not UA if that’s what you mean. Our LT might be a hard-ass, but he covers our asses any time we’re in trouble. Afte
r I got here, I texted him what happened and let him know I needed leave. He granted it.”
“Oh, good. I’d hate for you to be in trouble but so thankful you came to get me. Did I thank you for that?”
“Not yet.” His brows rose, and he leaned forward and snagged her coffee, taking a sip.
Her voice dropped an octave, and she smiled. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, sailor.” He handed it back to her.
He chuckled. “Don’t temp me with your sultry voice and that promise in your eyes, you sassy, sexy brat.”
“I wasn’t doing anything.” Her eyes grew wide.
“Uh huh.” He took another sip, and when she offered him a bite of her croissant, he took a bite, his eyes going over her face. He reached out and brushed his knuckles against the bandage at her temple. “Any dizziness? Headache?”
“No. I’m fine.” She polished off the croissant. “They have to be impressed that you figured out where we were, assaulted an enemy camp full of guards, took a terrorist right out of his house along with a boatload of intel and saved us as well. I’d say that was worthy of a medal.”
“You’re joking, but I’m pretty much up for another freaking medal with the brass.”
“How many medals do you have? Will you show them to me?”
“A lot and yeah, when we get home, if you change your bratty ways. You can come over, and I’ll show you. Just be warned that my housekeeping style is best described as ‘there appears to have been a struggle.’”
She laughed. “I’m sure you’re neat and clean.”
“Sometimes.”
Willow savored the last drop of her coffee then eyed the bags on the floor. “What’s in those?”
“Clothes. I guessed, and your dad helped fill in some of the blanks.”
“You went shopping for me? That is so sweet.”
“Yeah, picking out bras and panties while women are looking at me like I’m a pervert was fun.”
She slipped off the bed and snuggled into his lap. He groaned. “Babe, what did I say about hard ons and our guests?”
