“I’ll make sure you’re settled and comfy first, princess.”
“Don’t give me nicknames.”
“You never objected to ‘fighter girl’.”
“I like that one.”
Jake barked a laugh. “So which is it? Nicknames or not?”
“You’re an aggravating man.”
He curled his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep from laughing out loud again. He enjoyed their verbal sparring. Who knew such a spitfire existed in a little package? That hot little package had a direct line to his dick. Jake was thankful he was wearing jeans, otherwise—he’d be tenting in a big way.
Parking the van, they both got out. He walked ahead of her to a rust-colored iron door. A metal mailbox was mounted on the wall at chest level. Jake inserted a security card through the fake slot and a cover slid down to reveal a keypad. He entered a nine-digit code and bent down for a retinal scan. After the device accepted his information, gears and tumblers whirred and the heavy bar across the door slackened at the hinge.
He held it open and waved his arm. “After you.”
Their eyes locked in challenge, then her chin inched up. “Why does it feel like once I walk through this door, I’ll forever be under Viktor’s scrutiny?”
His brow quirked up. “I assure you it’s a good place to be. Besides I’ll be with you.”
At her own raised brow, he added, “After I get some shit done.”
“Glad we’re clear on that.”
Jake bit back a curse. “You’re aggravating too, you know,” he said to her back as he entered the building after her and locked the door.
He nearly plowed into her when she stopped suddenly. Spinning around, she thumped him on the chest. He barely felt it and was struggling not to smile because he was still irritated at their last exchange.
“I’m only going along with this because Viktor’s plan sounds solid.” Her eyes squinted. “What’s so funny?”
“Sure it’s got nothing to do with my devastating charm?”
She gave a derisive laugh. “Now you’re being cute about it.”
He scowled. “Has anyone told you cute isn’t a flattering word to describe a man?”
She rolled her eyes and flounced away and stalked down the corridor, past a stairwell.
Jake waited until she almost made the turn into an intersecting hallway. “You’re going the wrong way.” He called as he sauntered to the bottom of the steps and leaned against the wall. If fumes could come out of a person’s ears, there would be a storm cloud swirling above Stella’s head. She walked back to him, back rigid, with all the dignity she could muster.
“That’s so mature, Banning,” she muttered as she ascended the steps.
He didn’t reply. He didn’t know fuck all why he kept wanting to get a rise out of her.
When they reached the second floor, he gestured to the right. “Loft is over here.”
Castle Rock was the Guardian’s satellite home base. From the streets, it looked like a condemned building with a big sign stating so from the county. To keep interlopers out, the first-floor windows were secured by iron bars and the entrance was sealed with an accordion gate. Cameras and alarms were everywhere. There was an interrogation room on the first floor, and two other rooms were never renovated. It was the basement that held all the trappings of high technology—a command center of some sort.
The second floor was converted into apartments. It was where their operatives stayed when they needed to lay low. They entered one that had two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen area. The furnishings were modern and the space industrial with exposed ceilings and vents. The musky smell of an old building permeated the air. Tall frosted glass windows were covered by vertical blinds. No one could see in or out.
He turned to Stella. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Can you set me up so I can chat with Gram before you leave?” She held up her phone. “No signal. I can’t even ask Tex.”
“You shouldn’t use your phone anyway.”
Her shoulders dropped. “I know. I’m not being difficult about it, but Viktor promised I wouldn’t be cut off from Pearl.”
She sounded calm even if he could see that pulse quicken beneath her skin. Her heart was beating rapidly. Anxiety? Or something else. The times she met his eyes were telegraphed, as if she was forcing herself to do it. Did he make her nervous? Dammit, he couldn’t think about this now. His focus had to be Schneider.
“I’ll get word to Tex. Is that good enough?”
She seemed to digest this for a few seconds and appeared to get his point. She nodded.
“I’m gonna get the utilities working.” He headed to the storage room, a perfect excuse to put some distance from her heady presence while he regrouped. He found the circuit breaker for this unit and made adjustments. He got the HVAC working and stepped to the linen closet and a sense of déjà vu hit him to the previous night when he abducted Stella. It felt like she’d been on his mind for an eternity, going through several fantasies with her in a starring role. All of them a variation of that one time they’d shared that heated kiss, his imagination leading to very, very… fuck.
Fuck indeed.
Very intense fucking.
When he returned to the living room, she was looking at a row of old DVDs and VHS tapes. He lowered the bedsheets, blankets, and a change of clothes on the couch. All of them were still in vacuum-sealed packets.
Stella’s eyes lowered to the items he laid out and then back to him. “Why didn’t we come here last night?”
“The safe house was closer and more contained.”
“You mean there was a room to lock me in?” Her voice was clipped without emotion, even as the tension rattled between them in the open space.
“Stella—” he started forward.
“Don’t. Don’t use that tone on me.” She took a step back.
“What tone? Don’t you mean yours?”
“You’ve got some nerve.” Her eyes flashed.
“I don’t know why you’re pissed.” He closed the distance between them and this time, stared down her eyes that were shooting sapphire flames at him. “You know my job. You know I have to go see Schneider.”
“Weren’t we supposed to work as a team? I mean, that’s what you told Viktor, right? This is my area. I’m a cop.”
“He’ll recognize you.”
“I can try a disguise. We had a special session at the Academy, but it was more to help us spot a fugitive who’d change his appearance. If this is a satellite base, then I’m sure you have something I could use.”
“No. We’ll have to buy the stuff.”
“So we buy it.”
He turned away from her and marched to the kitchen. She followed. Yanking open the pantry door, he grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to her. He went for another, twisting the cap and slugging back almost half of it.
Jake faced her, wiping out all emotions from his face. “We have no time.”
“It’s better than half-assing this. Don’t you want to plan this out?”
“I’ve been planning this out for weeks. Now that Gould is gone, Schneider should be looking for his replacement. That was what I should be doing in the first place.”
Not abducting a cop. Not letting another person get killed in a case of mistaken identity.
“I can stay in the car. What if you need back up?”
An image of her being his shield flashed in his mind. “Stella, you froze when you shot Gould. I can’t risk that when I go to the bar and Schneider is there. I need to know all my variables.”
“You don’t trust me to back you up,” she whispered, and her head drooped in defeat. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Her words and expression dislodged his heart from his chest, and he couldn’t help but grab her shoulders and make her see what he meant. “Stop twisting my words,” he snarled. “I’m afraid for you! For your life.”
She gaped at him. “But—”
“No buts.”
He let her go and showed her his back as complicated emotions slammed into him all at once. Threats to her safety brought him to his knees. She’d slipped past his defenses and exposed his vulnerabilities and he was spiraling out of control. He inhaled deeply, but somehow the oxygen was never enough, and that frozen moment in time when he thought Gould was going to kill her came roaring back. Jake hated feeling helpless and there was nothing as helpless as he was at that moment.
He lifted his gaze to the ceiling before dropping it to the floor, shoulders sagging in surrender. “I barely know you, Stella, but your life, your well-being, are all I can think of.”
“Some would say that’s not a bad thing.”
“When you’re undercover it is.” He gave a humorless laugh. “You consider the greater good.”
“And screw collateral damage?”
“You don’t understand.” He turned to face her. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m crazy.”
She gave a nervous laugh and Jake found himself bracing. “Did what I say make you uncomfortable?” he asked. “It’s the truth.”
Glancing away from him, she said, “I don’t know what you expect. Like you said we barely know each other. You shouldn’t hang your career on it because you’re worried for my safety. You’d do that for anybody in our situation.” She gave a small smile. “Because you’re a good person.”
He should feel good at her words. He didn’t. They slayed him.
“Did I misread you? That kiss?” He gestured between them, but his arm fell to his side at the realization that she didn’t feel the same. “I thought there was something there.”
“I had time to think about it. The way we met was intense and we’re probably reading too much into it.”
“I see.”
Awkward seconds lapsed before Stella moved away from him and picked up the bedsheets and the clothes. “So, I guess here we are again.” Her eyes swept the apartment. “Which room can I take?”
His jaw snapped tight and he couldn’t look at her, so he gestured to his right. “Your choice.”
8
Stella escaped the living room as fast as her short legs could take her. She went into the first room and closed the door, leaning against it, and took a deep breath. When Jake turned away from her, confessing how he felt, she nearly walked up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. She stilled the impulse because nothing good would come if they gave in to their infatuation for each other.
This was all this was.
She knew all about chemistry. Put all the elements together and you have a combustible reaction. In their case, abduction, hot-guy captor, forced proximity, and life-threatening circumstances. The whiff of death, and the accompanying adrenaline, reduced a person to their most basic instincts.
And now he was putting himself in danger while leaving her here.
She looked at her phone, frustrated she couldn’t get word to Gram herself, frustrated she couldn’t act on anything, confused at what to do next. She hated this feeling of limbo, this helplessness. The sweatshirt she was wearing prickled her skin. It was cold in the apartment, the heat pump only starting to displace the chill of the February weather, but her entire body was thrumming like it was in a furnace. Stella checked out the ensuite bathroom and noted its utilitarian design. White tiles, stainless steel and porcelain fixtures. No bathtub, just a shower. Good enough for her.
Turning on the shower, the water washed off the dusty residue of the flooring. She took a tentative step in, cold tiles soothed the soles of her feet and she let the warm spray sluice over her skin. With wet fingers, she fumbled around to liberate the soap from its box and berated herself for not doing that first. See! She was a mess. Even if she wanted to switch the dial to cold, she kept the water temperate. Warm showers, like exercise, released dopamine—her chemistry-student brain reasoned—and dopamine enhanced clarity because of a relaxed mind. It was why people insisted they think better in the shower. Science backed up that theory.
She was feeling better already.
After getting cleaned, she changed into the provided clothing. These sweats were comfier, and she liked the thin thermal they came with. It was too big for her, as usual, and she had to roll the waistband and the hem. If the thermal shirt was supposed to be snug, it only fitted around her breasts, the rest of it hung loosely past her hips. Stella was used to clothes fitting this way. Shopping in the junior’s section seemed like the solution until she sprouted boobs and hips.
Returning to the bedroom, she grabbed her phone and walked to the window. Barely a bar. She wondered if there were any news updates and she was itching to talk to Gram. Stepping into her sneakers, she grabbed the matching hoodie and hurried to the door, threw it open and bounced against a brick wall. Discombobulated, she staggered back and before she could comprehend that it was Jake standing in front of her door, strong fingers gripped the back of her neck, yanking her forward, and he was kissing her.
She kissed him back as his big paws shifted to her ass and lifted her, and she clasped her hands around his neck. He pinned her against the wall, his tongue diving in and explored her mouth fiercely. Little infernos ignited all around her body, specifically where her core rubbed against the roughness of his jeans.
Jake tore his mouth away, a triumphant—if not pissed off—gleam shining in his eyes. “You little liar.”
“Were you standing outside my door this whole time?” she accused.
“I came to get you—”
“Rigghht …and somehow your mouth fell into mine?”
“You kissed me back.”
“That’s not the point!”
He raised a brow in a sardonic slant. “That’s why you’re clinging to me like we’re about to have monkey sex?”
Her cheeks flamed. “It was a natural reaction.”
“A natural reaction when you’re attracted to a person.”
“So I’m attracted to you. Big deal. It’s just pheromones. A chemical reaction.”
A storm swirled in the depths of his irises as he considered her words, then her body screamed at the loss of contact when he lowered her to the floor. He caged her in, both hands flat against the wall on either side of her, his body slightly away, as though he was deliberately taunting Stella to beg for his touch.
As if.
She craned her neck and glared. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You think I’m some pervert creeping around outside your door?” There was a slight tilt to the corner of his mouth. A smirk. A sexy one. Damn him.
“Well, what did you expect me to think?”
“Ah, fighter girl, I just wanted to come get you because you’re wanted in the basement.”
Her eyes turned wary. “What basement?”
“Think I’m a serial killer now?”
“What. Basement?”
“You want to talk to your grandmother, come to the basement where the network is highly encrypted,” he said. “The space up here is more for relaxation and deliberately designed that way. Any secure communication needs to be done in the control room.”
A ripple of excitement rose through her. “Something tells me I’m not in Kansas anymore.”
He stepped away from her, giving her a once over, expression darkening, shoulders turning rigid as he bent over to pick up her hoodie and handed it to her. “Put this on. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
Jake spun on his heel and stalked out the door.
Now what had she done wrong?
As she slipped one arm into her hoodie, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her nipples stood proudly, clearly etched through the thermal since she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Oh, shit.
Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as she hurriedly put on the hoodie. She found Jake pacing the living room and she couldn’t decide whether he was like a caged tiger denied of prey or a simmering volcano about to explode. She was light in her footsteps but somehow the
shuffling was a grating noise that echoed in the apartment. The sound of her approach drew his narrowed gaze that was first fiery, and then cooled in slow degrees by a relief that relaxed the tightness of his jaw and somehow made her breathe easier too.
“Come on,” he commanded, not waiting for her to reach him, but made a beeline for the door. It was as if the devil himself was chasing him and Stella couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. Did she affect him that much?
She trailed him until he noticed she was falling back, so he slowed his own steps and waited for her to catch up. On the first floor, he led her to a nondescript room where motion-activated lights illuminated the area.
Stella glanced around curiously, pausing just inside the entrance as he walked over to a cabinet against the wall. He touched hidden buttons along the side panel and the furniture rolled on its hinges, revealing the scissor panels that opened into an elevator.
When he turned to face her, his smile was forced and very fake. Poor Jake, he was trying not to scare her. In the short time she’d spent with him, she noticed his struggle to hold back from her. Trying to be calm and not intimidate her with his size. She knew it wasn’t because she came across as fragile. A very strong protective vibe emanated from him; she found that appealing and her heart took notice. However, if she didn’t know him at all, this smile of his would have “serial killer” written all over it.
“Wow, this is all very James Bond,” she quipped, deciding to put him out of his misery.
This time his smile stretched more naturally as the levity of her words brightened his eyes. He dragged the gates to the corner, and he gestured for her to get in.
“Viktor owns me now, doesn’t he?” she added as she took that big step in.
“No one owns you,” he said, but his tone held a whole lot of proprietary and she glanced at him sharply. She caught his grin before he looked away. “Trust that Viktor already checked your background. He’d have no qualms of telling me to put a bag over your head if you didn’t check out.”
“That’s comforting,” she muttered.
Jake recited the code and showed her how to enter it in the panel and her thoughts focused on this information, her brain filing this away.
Protecting Stella (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 6
