by Pamela Clare
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“Please.”
“I’m Elizabeth Shields. I was at the meeting this morning.” Elizabeth didn’t look like Jenna’s idea of a CIA analyst, with her long, strawberry blond hair, pretty face, and blue eyes. Then again, what did Jenna know about the CIA?
“I remember.”
Elizabeth picked up her fork. “So, you’re a midwife. What’s that like?”
Jenna described the work she did from well-woman checkups to prenatal care to STI screenings and contraception to attending births. Elizabeth listened and seemed fascinated by it, asking lots of questions, which Jenna answered as best she could. Before long, it felt like she and Elizabeth had known each other for years.
Then the conversation drifted from Jenna’s work to her brother’s time with the Green Berets and then to Derek. But it wasn’t Jenna’s place to tell Elizabeth how her brother had died saving Derek’s life. That was Derek’s story to tell.
Elizabeth leaned in. “Do you think he’s handsome?”
Jenna stared at her. “Derek?”
“Who else? Come on. You can tell me. It’s just us girls here.”
“I … uh … Sure.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got a thing for him, and he’s attracted to you, too.”
Heat rushed into Jenna’s cheeks.
Quinn McManus, the tall, redheaded Scotsman, walked up to them on his way to the food line. “Be careful when you’re talkin’ wi’ Lilibet. She’s a human intelligence expert. She’ll have you sharin’ your deepest secrets and thinkin’ it was your idea.”
Elizabeth glared at him. “We’re just enjoying some female bonding time.”
“Are you now?” With that, McManus turned and walked away, a grin on his rugged face. “Wi’ you, it’s hard to tell.”
Jenna looked straight into Elizabeth’s eyes. “Was this all a fishing expedition to get information about Derek?”
Elizabeth popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, chewed. “Oh, honey, we all know you two have a thing for each other. I’ve worked with Derek for a few years now, and I’ve never seen him look at any woman the way he looks at you. As for you, you’re an open book. Every emotion you feel is right there on your face.”
Jenna didn’t like that. She didn’t want to be anyone’s open book, and she sure as hell didn’t want to cause trouble for Derek.
She willed herself to laugh. “I guess your CIA radar is broken. Derek and I are just friends. Talking about my brother brought back a lot of memories for both of us. That’s all it is.”
Elizabeth gave Jenna a contrite smile. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy or make you uncomfortable. It’s none of my business. We’re the only women in this building, and I guess I miss having someone to talk to.”
Jenna could understand that. “A lot of women would envy you. You’re surrounded by tall, ripped guys all day every day.”
Oh, yes, Jenna had noticed. How could she not?
Quinn McManus with his red hair and beard and his Scottish swagger. Malik Jones with his short dark hair, expressive face, and coppery skin. Dylan Cruz with his mixed Afro-Latin features and faint Spanish accent. Connor O’Neal with his dark hair, poet’s face, and blue eyes.
“True—they’re hot.” Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to Quinn. “But I can’t hook up with any of them, not if I want this job. They won’t come near me.”
Was that a rebuke of Derek for having sex with Jenna?
Jenna changed the subject. “How did you get into human intelligence?”
“I studied criminal justice and applied to the agency after graduation. I got accepted and went through aptitude testing. They decided I had the skill set for languages and human intelligence.” Elizabeth glanced at her watch. “Shoot. I’ve got to go. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. It was fun talking. Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow. I’m usually here right around noon.”
Jenna didn’t have anything else to do. “Sure.”
Elizabeth flashed a bright smile. “See you then.”
Derek made his way toward Jenna’s room, knowing with every step that he shouldn’t be doing this. Corbray was right. He had no business getting it on with Jenna or any other woman right now. He had a job to do, and it didn’t include doing her. It wasn’t the easiest thing to remember with her scent still on his skin.
You just need to check on her.
Right. That was fair.
There wasn’t much to do here—nothing that might interest Jenna, at any rate. He’d left her alone all evening, working late with his team, analyzing the options and looking for the best way to get Jenna safely out of Afghanistan and back to the U.S. There were so many unknowns.
Why did Kazi want her? How many men and resources was he willing to commit to acquiring her? Did Kazi know where Jenna was at this moment? What was Cobra’s standing with Kazi? And although the intel wonks said there was a ninety-eight percent probability that Qassim had been acting on Kazi’s orders, that still left a two-percent chance that he’d gone rogue or was working for someone else.
All of this had left Derek feeling uneasy—and far more protective of Jenna than he usually was where a client was concerned. This was no longer just another job. It had become personal. He wanted to beat the fuck out of Qassim—and Kazi.
He knocked on her door. “It’s Derek.”
Nothing.
He knocked again. “Jenna?”
“Coming!” She opened the door wearing a white bathrobe, her feet bare. “I just got out of the shower.”
Stay where you are. Don’t go into her room.
“I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wasn’t around much this evening, and I know there’s not a lot to do here.”
“You’re working on my behalf. I know that.” She ran a hand through her hair, teasing out tangles. “I hung out with Elizabeth. We went to the gym and then watched ‘Afghan Star’—that’s their version of ‘American Idol.’”
Derek knew what it was.
Tell her goodnight. Go.
“Can I come in?”
Way to go, buddy.
“I wish you would.”
Yeah, you’re a fucking idiot.
He stepped inside, shut the door behind him, locked it. “I’ve spent every minute since I left your side reminding myself of all the reasons I shouldn’t come here. I’m working. You’re Jimmy’s little sister. You’re my client. Soon, you’ll be on a plane back to the U.S. I don’t do relationships. I’m always overseas. That’s my life.”
“I know.” She untied her robe, let it fall open. “The way I see it, all we have is right now. We might as well make the most of it.”
The sight of her sent of a ragged bolt of lust shearing through him—those perfect breasts, the curve of her hips, the thatch of dark curls between her thighs. He had tasted all of it, and he wanted more, rules be damned.
He backed her up against the wall and kissed her—hard. She kissed him back, her urgency matching his.
She tugged down his zipper, took his half-hard cock in hand, her touch bringing him to fullness. “Now.”
He jerked her off her feet, wrapped her legs around his waist, and pushed himself inside her, thrusting hard.
It was like coming home.
She arched against the wall, shifting her hips so that his cock rubbed her clit with each thrust. “Oh, yes.”
He buried his face against the side of her throat, inhaling her scent, his hips thrusting hard, her inner muscles gripping his cock like a fist, her sweet whimpers urging him on.
Harder, faster.
Jenna. Jenna.
He wanted her, needed her, needed all of her.
Sharp nails digging into his back. The hot, slick feel of her. Her legs a vice around his waist. Her panting cries.
Oh, she felt so fucking good.
He fought to hold on, to last long enough to please her, but his control had frayed to a single thread, his balls already drawing tight.
She
cried out, coming apart in his arms.
He was right behind her, moaning out his pleasure against her soft skin, losing himself inside her.
For a moment, they stayed as they were, both breathing hard, Derek’s heart thrumming in his chest.
He raised his head, looked into her beautiful eyes.
She smiled. “Do you know how delicious it is to be held like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I’m in your arms, I feel feminine, protected.”
So, she liked muscle. Good to know.
“I’d just like to point out that you are feminine, and you’re in a security compound, so you are protected.”
“Doing it up against a wall like this was on my sexual bucket list.”
“I’m happy to help you cross it off.” He withdrew from her and scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, knowing now that she would like that, too. “Maybe I should take a look at that bucket list—while we have some time.”
14
Jenna could get used to this.
Derek carried her to the bed, sank to the mattress with her still in his arms, the two of them laughing and rolling together in the sheets.
Jenna came to rest on top of him and straddled his hips. “God, I love your body. You’re like a Greek statue, except you’re real. I just want to play with you.”
He grinned, tucked an arm behind his head. “I won’t stop you.”
Jenna indulged herself. While he watched, she ran her hands over his pecs and abs, squeezed his biceps. “Your arm is bigger than both of mine together.”
“Testosterone. It makes men big, strong, and stupid.”
She laughed. “Women have testosterone, too, just not as much.”
“Listen to you—the midwife. The next thing you’ll tell me is that men have estrogen.”
“They do, and their estrogen levels increase as they grow older.”
He frowned. “That explains a few things.”
Then Jenna had to ask. “Where did you get this scar?”
The scar was L-shaped and sat near his left hip bone.
“I did a HALO jump and got blown into a damned fence post.”
“It’s a good thing you weren’t impaled.” She kissed the big bullet scar on the right side of his chest. It was darker than the other scars, proof it was newer than the others. “This must have come close to killing you.”
“I took a round trying to protect Laura and spent some time in ICU. They told me my heart stopped on the operating table. Obviously, they got it going again.”
Thank God.
“What about this one?” She ran her fingertip along a thin white line below his ribs on the right side of his belly.
“Knife. Some Talib tried to gut me in a village outside of Jalalabad. He ended up dead. I got a dozen stitches.”
“And this one?” She touched a finger to a gouge in his right shoulder.
“Bullet graze. Hurt like a son of a bitch.” He took her hand, brought her fingers to his right cheek. “Do you feel that?”
Beneath his skin, there was a little indentation.
“That’s where I broke my cheekbone. That came from Jimmy.”
Jenna’s throat went tight.
Derek ran a big hand up the bare skin of her arm. “I’m sorry. Did that make you sad? All the happiness just faded from your face.”
“Yes, it made me sad, but not in the way you think. The brutality of war—it’s written all over your body.”
“A hazard of the job.”
He might be able to brush it off, but she couldn’t. “I hate knowing that you’re in danger all the time, risking your life. I mean, I know that’s what you’re doing for me—and I am grateful—but I wish your job were safer.”
“We analyze the risks, and we do our best to manage them.”
She stretched out on top of him, rested her head against his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath her ear, one strong arm coming to encircle her. “Have you ever thought of doing something else—something less dangerous?”
“Not really. I enlisted straight out of high school. I had no interest in college and no way to pay for it. I’m not sure I’d be good at anything else. I think being a loner made it easy for me to excel in special operations. I never had anyone to worry about, no one waiting at home for me to call, no one telling me not to go or holding me back.”
She wanted to tell him that there could be more in his life than work and war, but she didn’t want to come across as cloying. She tried to keep it light. “Well, if you’re ever in Timbuktu or Hong Kong and you want to call someone to gossip or talk about whatever, feel free to call me.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He kissed the top of her head. “What about you? What inspired you to be a midwife?”
“At first, I just wanted to be an RN. My father didn’t like the idea. He thought it was beneath me.”
“Which only made you want it more.”
She smiled. “Exactly. While I was in school, I was drawn to labor and delivery. I loved the idea of helping women give birth safely and welcoming new life into the world. So, I got my master’s degree in nursing and became a CNM—certified nurse midwife.”
“You must like babies.”
“There’s nothing like holding a newborn—the little sounds they make, their smells, their tiny fingers and fingernails.”
“Do you want kids of your own?”
“One day—with the right man.” For a second, she let herself imagine that Derek was the father. Her uterus contracted, clearly in favor of this idea.
He stroked her hair. “What a funny pair we make. You bring life into the world, and I take it out.”
“I guess so.”
She drifted off after that, waking briefly when he drew up the blankets. She snuggled deeper into him. “You’re so warm.”
He stroked her hair, kissed her again.
It was six in the morning when he left her, kissing her on the cheek. “Sleep, angel. I’ll see you in a little while.”
She was asleep again before he closed the door.
“Ms. Hamilton, this is Malik Jones, Connor O’Neal, and Dylan Cruz. Corbray sent them to bolster our operation here. Jones served as an Army Ranger. O’Neal joined us after a decade in Delta Force. Cruz comes from eight years serving as a SEAL.”
Jenna shook each man’s hand. “Thank you so much.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” O’Neal said.
“Did you have a good flight?” Derek asked.
Jones grinned. “Is there such a thing as a good flight?”
“Stop whining, man.” Cruz slapped him on the back. “Get your black ass some coffee before the meeting starts. I’ll need some, too.”
Jones grinned. “How about you get your skinny Puerto Rican ass out of my way?”
Jenna looked startled by their words.
Derek knew how it must sound to someone who didn’t know them. “Don’t worry. They’re best buds. They give each other shit all the time.”
He opened the conference room door for Jenna and followed her inside, taking his seat at the head of the table and offering Jenna a place to his left. The staff was already there. He waited until Cruz and Jones had poured themselves cups of coffee and taken their seats to start the meeting. “Let’s get down to business.”
“Ms. Hamilton was the target of a failed abduction attempt by Abdul Jawad Kazi, former warlord, now governor of this province.”
“And all-around asshole,” Jones added.
Derek went on. “It is our job to get her safely out of the country and back to the U.S. We will not fail, am I understood?”
Jenna’s gaze was fixed on the table, hands clenched in her lap. She was afraid—and not without reason.
Derek hated Kazi for this.
He turned to Segal. “Let’s hear it.”
“We’ve got three options. We can drive Ms. Hamilton north to Tajikistan and fly her from Dushanbe to Istanbul and home. We can fly her
out on a chartered flight from the airport here. We can fly her via helicopter to Kabul and then fly her out of Afghanistan from there. Each option comes with its own set of risks.”
Jenna’s face had gone pale.
Derek held up a hand to stop Segal from continuing. “Ms. Hamilton, do you have any questions before we start, anything you’d like to say?”
“No. It’s all just a little … overwhelming.”
“I bet.” Derek had to stop himself from taking her hand.
Segal went through the risk assessment of each option. “Option A. We drive Ms. Hamilton across the border. The risks are obvious. There’s one highway, and we could be ambushed anywhere along the road by Kazi’s men, this Qassim bastard, Taliban fighters, or displaced insurgents from Daesh.”
Derek shook his head. “I think we can assume that Kazi keeps this place under surveillance. Any vehicle leaving the compound is likely to be followed, and he’ll have a pretty good idea where we’re going.”
Heads nodded.
“We’ve already had one close call on the road,” Cross said. “Let’s avoid another.”
“It’s a bloody long drive to Dushanbe,” McManus said. “A lot can go wrong.”
“I agree.” Shields looked up from her iPad. “The probability of success is lowest.”
Segal moved to Option B. “This is our preferred extraction method. We control the plane. We control the timing. We just need to get Ms. Hamilton to the airport. The safest way to do that might be to land our MH Little Bird on the roof and fly her there. The only drawback is that Kazi controls the airport. Option C bypasses that potential hazard by getting Ms. Hamilton to the airport in Kabul. The risk with this option is being shot down by random insurgents. We assess that risk to be small, but it is there.”
“How far do you think he’d be willing to go to abduct her?” O’Neal asked. “A confrontation with Cobra would have serious repercussions for his relationship with Washington. He must know that.”
Derek had spent no small amount of time thinking about this. “We don’t know how far he’ll go. He was willing to risk a firefight with me just a few days ago, but I’m only one guy. By working with Qassim and his militia, Kazi gains plausible deniability. He can claim that Qassim acted alone and that he knew nothing about it.”
