Reclaiming Izabel (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

by Victoria Paige

  Body shaking, Izabel stumbled forward, her lungs heaving.

  “Drake?” she whispered as a shaky breath left her.

  A flash of white teeth. His oh, so familiar smile.

  Strong arms swooped around her as her legs buckled. They held her up as she was crushed against a chest. Izabel’s sobs caught in her throat—her body not knowing whether to breathe or cry. She clutched at the man, her thoughts continuing their chaotic trajectory even as soothing words murmured against her ear.

  “I missed you, Iza. God, how I missed you.”

  She froze.

  He missed her?

  Izabel went to hell when he died.

  Fury, rejection, and betrayal coalesced and squashed the yearnings of her heart. She struggled to get out of his embrace.

  “Let me go!” she screamed when he refused to comply.

  His arms unlocked and she stumbled back. “You missed me?” She was panting hard, the force of her anger made it a struggle to speak as the agony she experienced in the past three years came rushing back.

  “I stood in that airfield waiting for the plane to bring my husband home. I wept over your flag-draped casket,” she inhaled raggedly. “I buried you. I mourned you, Drake, but that’s what I signed up for when I married a SEAL, knowing that could happen to us. But this,” she waved her arm up and down in front of her. “I didn’t sign up for this. For three years of living hell believing I’d lost the love of my life …”

  His face visibly flinched as he took a step forward. “I can explain, Iza …”

  She laughed derisively, a scornful laugh borne out of pain. Everything inside her rebelled at this version of Drake in front of her.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can,” she said between wracking sobs. Izabel backed away from her husband, her heart … because her heart was breaking all over again. “But I don’t know if I can believe you.”

  She ran.

  Fuck!

  Her anguish hit him with the force of a wave slamming his body against a jagged rock. The devastation of her words sent him reeling, and he quickly realized that he would have the fight of his life on his hands. He’d imagined their separation from her point of view, but he was seeing it clearly now.

  He watched Izabel disappear into mist. Drake had been the envy of his teammates, especially the married ones. Izabel accepted his sudden deployments as his duty and never complained.

  Missed anniversaries.

  Leaving her birthday party because his pager went off.

  Missed Christmases.

  Did he see disappointment in her eyes? Sure he did, but she knew what she signed up for.

  I didn’t sign up for this.

  Her words echoed in his ears and panic took over as he started after Izabel. He caught sight of her as she raced through the trails as if the devil himself was after her.

  In this case, he was the devil.

  He slowed his strides, not overtaking her, and gave her distance in the pace of her run, but that was all the space he was giving her. They’d lost three years and, though it had been entirely his decision that put them in this situation, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t do it again. He’d rather Izabel hated him his entire life rather than live in a world without her.

  As he approached her house, a spark of resentment fired inside him. They had a home. She sold it. Now his wife was living in a house where there were no memories shared between them. Had his decision broken them forever?

  Drake was relieved when he saw the open door. Did that mean she was willing to talk? He’d been prepared to camp on her steps until she was willing to talk to him.

  He headed up, took a deep breath, and moved through the open door, closing it quietly behind him.

  Izabel was pacing in front of the table between the kitchen and the living room. She stopped when she saw him enter, glared at him, and crossed her arms over her chest. That was her defensive posture. The area around her eyes was splotchy and her nose was red. Drake wanted nothing more to hug and kiss her, but Izabel was about to unleash that Latina temper she’d inherited from her mother.

  “Tell me, Drake. Did you think you could simply waltz back into my life after three years? Three years of me thinking you were dead?”

  “I never believed it would be easy, Izabel.”

  “You died. What if I’d moved on?”

  “Have you?” he challenged.

  “Not yet.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And you won’t.”

  “Think you can stop me?” she taunted. “You have no hold over me. I have your death certificate.” Her face crumpled in confusion and he really, really wanted to smooth those lines with his kisses. “So, if you’re dead on paper, who are you now?”

  That was his Izabel. She was quick to pick up the kinks in his story.

  “A man called Dave Morgan, but not for long. I prefer being Drake Maddox.”

  She began pacing again. Drake clenched his fists at his sides, otherwise he would take the few steps necessary to close the distance between them and yank her into his arms. He ached to hold her.

  “So technically you’re still this Dave Morgan.”

  “Yes.”

  “I just can’t wrap my mind around it,” Izabel said. “And you didn’t answer my question. What if I’d moved on and had gotten married?”

  “That wasn’t going to happen,” Drake grated. Just the thought of her married to another man made him feral. “Tex was watching you for me.”

  Her eyes widened. “You knew I was on a date last night?”

  “Yes.” Tex assured him he didn’t have to storm into the restaurant and give Izabel the shock of her life in public, but his friend couldn’t do anything when Drake insisted on making sure that Izabel didn’t sleep with Kyle. He staked out the restaurant from the parking lot and followed them home.

  She squinted. “The car alarm.”

  Drake nodded.

  Her face flamed red as she stared up at the ceiling and then back at him. “Unbelievable.”

  “Aren’t you gonna ask why I faked my death?” Drake asked softly.

  Izabel shook her head. “No.” She exhaled, shoulders drooping. “I know it’s a good reason. I know you thought it was the right decision at that time, but I don’t want to hear it yet.” Tears filled her eyes again. “I don’t want to hear the reason that had me wishing I’d died too.”

  “Izabel—”

  “But I had to be strong because I was pregnant.” She watched him closely, and when his face registered regret and pain, she added, “You knew.”

  “That was one reason I agreed to their plan. While I was alive, you were in danger and I wouldn’t put you and the baby at risk.”

  “I lost her.”

  Drake strained to hear her, but the haunted look on her face said it all. His death and losing the baby broke the woman he loved almost beyond repair. He couldn’t stand not holding her and reached out to take her in his arms, but she shied away. Her whole stance screamed “Do not touch me.”

  “Three years …” she whispered. Her eyes looked at him critically, lingering on his beard, her lips parting when it rested on the scars on his neck that disappeared under his beard. “You’re different.”

  “You always liked me with a beard,” he grinned.

  “I’m not sure we’re the same people.”

  His smile fell and his jaw clenched. Drake promised himself he would be patient with her.

  “It’s a good thing you came back today,” Izabel informed him. Her back was stiff and her expression wasn’t exactly as welcoming as her words. “I woke up this morning determined that I was moving on.”

  Anger surged inside him.

  “With whom? Kyle?” he spat.

  “You’ve been spying on me this whole time,” Izabel snapped. “I was in the depths of hell and you were spectating? And yes, I was hoping to move on. Not necessarily with Kyle, but with my life.”

  “Some kind of homecoming you have for me, baby,” Drake sneered as jealousy got the be
tter of his patience.

  Izabel raised her hands in surrender. “We’re not in the right frame of mind to discuss this. We’re only going to say things we’ll regret.”

  She turned away from him, but was still addressing him. “Your things are in the attic. Your guns are in the safe in the library. There’s a hotel—”

  “I’m not staying in some damned hotel. I’m staying right here.”

  He heard a resigned sigh.

  “I’ll fix up the guest room.”

  She walked away without looking back.

  Drake stood in the middle of the room with a strong desire to smash something in the unfamiliar surroundings his wife called home. It wasn’t the reunion he wanted. He expected tears, lots of anger, and railing. Izabel would pound on his chest and he’d grab her face and kiss her tears away.

  He didn’t expect this automaton she’d become. It was as though she was shutting him out. He slid out his phone and swiped a number.

  The phone rang twice.

  “Didn’t go well?”

  Tex’s statement grated on his nerves. The last thing he needed was his friend to say I told you so.

  “She’s not happy.”

  “You knew this would happen. This is Izabel we’re talking about.”

  “I can fix this. She let me in the house at least.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I destroyed her trust,” Drake said hoarsely.

  “Listen, man, we knew you’d have a fight on your hands. The divorce rate among SEALs is ninety-five percent and yet both of you managed to have a great marriage.”

  “Until I broke our vows.”

  Tex sighed. “Yeah, well, ‘for better or worse’ and ‘until death do us part’ hardly apply in this situation.”

  Drake grunted. “She’s alive. That’s all that matters. Looks like I’ll have the grovel of my life.”

  His friend chuckled. “Wish I was there to see it.”

  Drake grunted again. “I hope Viktor figures out who our leak is. I can’t wait to get out of the shadows.”

  “You think you’ll be running into someone you know in Virginia Beach?”

  “I’ll worry about that when the time comes, but I wasn’t waiting another moment to see Izabel.” Especially with another man sniffing around.

  “Shit, Izabel is calling my phone. Later,” Tex muttered and hung up.

  Drake stared at his phone and then up the stairs where his wife had disappeared.

  Chapter 6

  Izabel quickly headed to her bedroom and shut the door. She leaned against it and sank to the floor, strength having left her. She exhaled as her whole body trembled with two clashing and fierce emotions.

  Elation that Drake was alive.

  White hot fury at his betrayal and what he had done to their marriage.

  Her chest physically hurt, a deep-seated pain, a re-opened wound.

  And yet guilt ate at her.

  The scars on his neck … her fingers had ached to touch them. The part of her that loved her husband wanted to ask what had happened.

  But he died, a resentful voice whispered.

  Tired of the battle inside her, Izabel pushed up from the floor, walked over to her bed, and unhooked her phone from the charger.

  She called Tex.

  His phone rang a few times before he answered. There was no mistaking the hesitation in his voice.

  “Izabel.”

  “You knew.”

  “I knew.”

  Silence.

  And then, “Is that all you’re going to say?” she choked. “You, of all people, knew how much I suffered.”

  “I’m sorry, Izzy,” Tex whispered. “But Drake had no choice. Neither did I. If we broke the agreement with the person who recruited him, I lost access to him. And if Drake’s identity was compromised, it would—and still may—put you in immediate danger.”

  “Was I in danger?”

  “You need to hear the story from him.”

  Dread curled in Izabel’s gut. “Commander Harrelson’s family?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Weariness tugged on her already-frayed nerves. As a SEAL wife she understood her husband kept secrets from her, even those that could directly affect her. And suddenly her reaction to Drake’s return made sense. “I don’t know if I can go through this again, Tex.”

  “I don’t think Drake’s gonna disappear for another three years.” There was lightness in her friend’s tone.

  “That’s not what I meant.” She exhaled heavily. “I don’t think I have it in me to be a SEAL wife anymore.” Matt and Sam were right. She wanted to move on with a safe guy. The man who’d returned to her was far from the definition of safe.

  She heard Tex muffle a curse, so she continued. “I think—”

  “Izabel,” Tex cut in. “Your husband is in your house. Talk to him.”

  There was finality in her friend’s words. She needed to face Drake.

  “Okay.”

  “Good girl.”

  “I’m not promising to be reasonable,” she added tartly.

  She could almost see Tex smile on the other end of the line. “Give him hell.”

  Izabel gave a short laugh and ended the call. She stared at her closed door and blew out a breath.

  Leaving her bedroom, she headed to the linen closet in the hallway. There were three bedrooms in the house. Izabel wished she picked a house with a bedroom on the first floor, but she had no choice but to put him in the bedroom closest to the stairs. At least he wouldn’t be in the room next to hers. They certainly wouldn’t be sharing a bedroom.

  After she’d put new sheets on the guest room bed, she still wasn’t ready to face the man downstairs, but she’d stalled enough.

  Drake was just coming in from outside when she made her way back to the first floor. He was carrying a big duffle and his sniper rifle case. Memories of the many times he’d come home from deployment besieged her mind. Usually he left his rifle in his “cage” on base so Izabel wondered what location he reported to now.

  She was so occupied with reconciling her memories with her feelings, she didn’t notice the predatory and determined look that came over her husband’s face. Her heart rate skittered when he dropped his duffel and rifle to the floor and moved toward her, stalking.

  A surprise yelp left her lips as he hauled her against him. Strong arms squeezed her tight and she was pressed against the hard wall of muscles molded hotly against her curves.

  “I. Can. Not. Stand. It,” he growled by her ear. “Three years I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms.” When she tried to push away, he only held her tighter. “Give me this, Iza.” His mouth feathered her ears, sending a shiver through her. “Let me hold you. Even for a few moments. Please.”

  It was the please that did it. She relaxed in his arms.

  “I love you, baby. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  “We need to talk.” Her words came out scratchy.

  Drake sighed as he pulled away slightly and stared down at her. Their faces were almost touching, their warmth breath mingled as he kept their bodies flush to each other.

  An odd excitement jolted through her. Unfamiliar, dangerous, and raw. Her heart yearned for the tenderness of the husband from her memories, but her body responded at a more primal level. It was if her brain gave her permission to explore this man before her.

  If it weren’t for his eyes, she’d think the CIA had sent her a clone. A rougher, scarier replica of her husband.

  “You look bigger.” Her fingers squeezed his bicep. He was thickly muscled everywhere … shoulders, chest, and back. Drake had never been a slouch with fitness and always had an athletic build. Now the ridges of his muscles were more defined under his shirt. His face above his beard was leaner, cheekbones sharper.

  A slash of white flashed through his face as he grinned. “Three years of celibacy. I needed an outlet.”

  Heat suffused Izabel’s cheeks and she took a step back. He loosened his
arms. “Are you saying you haven’t had sex—”

  “Stop right there before you piss me off,” Drake growled. “Unlike you, I knew I was married. I was married to you this whole time. I’d cut off my dick before I’d cheat on you.”

  Izabel believed him. Look how long it was taking her to move on.

  “And the scars?”

  He fingered the area of skin on the left side of his neck. “Are you willing to listen to what happened now?”

  “You won’t get into trouble for it?”

  Drake shrugged. “My handler knows I’m done keeping secrets from you. But I can’t reveal anything about the ongoing op.”

  Izabel’s brows furrowed. “You’re not done? Are you leaving again?”

  He shook his head. “No and no. The last part of our mission will be done in-country but I cannot tell you what it is.”

  She nodded slowly, realizing more deeply how things between them had shifted. She and Drake always had an understanding of need-to-know. That understanding shattered in the past hour after finding out he faked his death. Now, she couldn’t say if she trusted the words from his mouth.

  A tendril of anger licked against her calm, reminding her all was not as it seemed between them.

  Drake eyed her warily, his smile sad. “You don’t believe me.”

  Her chin came up. “Can you blame me?”

  “No.” Her husband released a tired sigh. “It’s been a long trip. Do you think I can take a shower first and have some coffee before we have that talk?”

  Izabel hitched her shoulders. “Sure. I need one myself.”

  Their eyes locked and her cheeks grew warm.

  “Separately,” she added sharply.

  Drake smirked. “Of course.”

  Drake gripped his cock and pumped as he imagined his wife’s nakedness.

  “Izabel,” he groaned as his climax jolted up his spine, turning his back rigid. He slammed a palm against the tiles as cum spurted from his cock. He continued stroking, milking his release as the spray of the shower washed over him. When the tremors left him, he blasted the temperature of the water to cold.