“But there must be a connection.” Kendra glanced between her notebook, the blood splatter and Hunter, apparently confused by his messaging. “It’s this doxycycline. Isn’t it known to be used by the military as an antimalaria drug?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions.” Hunter strode toward her, his face darkening.
“Yes, but doxycycline—”
“You don’t get it.”
“They were soldiers—” Kendra countered again but halted as Hunter’s hand whipped up into the air, matched by a growl escaping his lips.
For a split second, Delta’s protective instinct thrust him forward, ready to fuck the guy up. But Hunter had recovered, using his raised hand to smooth back his hair.
“Fuck,” Hunter grumbled, shaking as he regained control.
Delta stiffened, his eyes wide open. What the fuck is he going to do with that hand? Kendra stumbled back in surprise, audibly sucking in breath. But before Delta could jump to her side, the enraged staff sergeant spun and marched toward the front of the building. Whatever he was up to, Delta saw a man who was losing control—a man who posed a threat. He was a ticking time-bomb. Didn’t she realize it?
Stunned, Kendra stood there alone, tightly clutching her notebook. She bit her lip, trembling, as if trying to get back to work. Delta sat back, confused as fuck at what he’d just witnessed. Delta knew right then and there that he had little choice. Things had just gotten more complicated.
I have to protect her.
Pulling out black gloves from his pocket, he slipped them on, preparing to leave no trace of what he was about to do. The scene before him had validated everything he’d seen since he’d been back from deployment. The body count was climbing.
Moving around the building a little farther, he gained entry to the interior. As he stalked through the shadows, making note of everything he saw, he was careful not to disturb anything, not even caked-on grime from years of abandonment. In stealth-mode, he slid out of the hallway into the darkest corner of the large room, not too far from Kendra. For a split second, he found himself just staring at her, drinking her in—the way she poured over her notebook then sharply analyzed the room before her. He had no doubt that her cunning mind was finding every anomalous detail.
And, yet again, he was proven right.
“And why are you here?” Kendra’s exasperated tone echoed over to where he stood, though she didn’t flinch or glance up from scribbling in her notebook.
Delta sucked in his breath, wondering if she meant…
“Yes, you.” She turned her chin slightly and shot a warning into the darkness, seeming to slice into his core. “Do you think I’m daft?”
Releasing the air in his lungs, he stepped forward—confident and relaxed, offering her a sly look as he crossed his arms. His charming ruse was too goddamn easy for him to make people see his way.
“Sergeant.” Delta shrugged. He narrowed his focus on her, giving her that grin that women loved. “Here we are, crossing paths again.”
“Crossing paths?” She balked.
“That’s right.” He kept his gaze intense, his body squared.
Turning away, she scoffed, “You’re acting like we’ve stumbled across each other at the grocery store.”
She shook her head in deep discontent, seemingly impervious to his charm. A chill ran up the back of his neck, her rejection biting. He hated it—but deserved it. Still, he stood there, watching.
“I’m too busy for this right now.” She spun, crossing her arms tightly, as if shielding herself. Her body language screamed of a woman who would not be fooled again.
“Too busy for me?” Delta pushed.
“I’ll go back to my original question.” She raised her eyebrows accusingly. “Why are you here? This is a secure crime scene, so you don’t belong here. I don’t care what security clearances you say you have.”
All the air got sucked out of the room, and he found himself momentarily searching for a response. Her bright, intelligent eyes left no stone unturned and demanded answers. She anxiously chewed her lip, giving him a rare glimpse of her girlish vulnerability—the type of vulnerability that made him voracious.
“We have a mutual purpose.” Delta let his face become stone cold serious, imparting the intensity he felt.
“Which would be?” she asked.
“Keeping you safe.”
Chapter Two
What a conceited, egotistical asshole, Sergeant Kendra Larose seethed, staring down the Navy SEAL who had once taken too much from her. Where did he get off? Wait, no. She didn’t want to know the answer to that.
“Keeping me safe, huh?” She stared into his dark, haunting eyes. “It’s so nice that you’ve started to care about my wellbeing.”
Watching his jaw tense gave her all the confirmation she needed to continue. She still had the ability to get under his perfectly rough skin. Good.
“We need to talk,” he ground out.
“Isn’t that what we are doing?”
“In private,” he clarified. “My truck’s around the corner—”
“Not a chance,” she said, cutting him off. All she could do was push him away, because anything less felt terrible. Without hesitation, she peeled her gaze off him and something inside her squirmed.
“You need to listen to me.”
Turning away but quivering inside, she protectively shot at him, “To whom?”
“Look… I think we got off wrong.”
“When? Today or last time?” she barked out.
He fell silent, his dark gaze following her.
She leaned forward, unable to believe his audacity. “You show up here—to my workplace—after not so much as trying to call. And what’s the real reason? Did I miss your application to LAPD?” She’d transformed her tone to accusatory, insinuating the worst. “You know, it’s not uncommon for predators to revisit their crime scenes and admire their own work…”
“Predators, huh?” Fire flashed in his dark eyes. “I think you are overlooking who the predator is here.”
“Get the hell out of here. Isn’t there some mortal combat you can sign up for?” She dismissed him. “I’m busy. Find someone else who’s interested in your misplaced heroics.”
Only infuriating her further, he didn’t move one sculpted muscle, which she should have expected would be the case. She gritted her teeth together as anger flushed up her body, nearly turning her vision as black as his soul. Why the hell was he standing before her? The unconscionable arrogance that it would take to show up then and there was astounding. Turning and marching away from him, inhaling to catch her rattling breath, Kendra hated the agony she was in—all because of him.
She pleaded with God that he would just go away, stop existing, but her prayers were unanswered. Heavy footsteps edging around the blood splatters on the concrete told her what she didn’t want to know.
He’s not leaving.
“What happened here?” Delta pushed her, trying to take back control of the conversation. She recognized his tactic.
“What makes you think I’d answer that?” Kendra whipped her head back to sneer at him. She watched him carefully, reading every movement. “You think I trust you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
A tougher woman wouldn’t have responded, but she snapped up her head, taking his bait and narrowing her eyes on his stupidly sexy face. She replied, “For reasons you should know.”
“Tell me,” he continued, unrelenting.
“No,” she replied, a little surprised. Was it just her, or was his approach lacking his typical charm?
Analyzing him, she had to avert her gaze quickly again. Unfortunately, his just-returned-from-war roughness only made her want to feel his impossibly muscular body on top of hers once again. That locked-away part of her mind wandered to the feel of his thick cock in her…
Breathless, she looked up and witnessed him staring right back at her. His mouth twisted into a sly grin, as if knowing she was just melting in
side. No doubt that was exactly what he wanted. If there was one thing she knew about Delta—he always wanted something.
“Okay, hotshot, you didn’t come here to spray luminol for me,” she snapped at him. “So, what are you after?”
“You,” Delta offered up fast. Too fast. “It’s that fucking simple.”
“Why? After all this time?” Kendra shook her head. “After you couldn’t even be bothered to—”
Call. She finished the sentence silently, forcing her mouth shut. That hot feeling rising, she admitted to herself that she was letting him get under her skin. And now her words were slipping from sharp to vulnerable. Showing her true feelings wasn’t something she was prepared to do. He didn’t deserve to know how he’d left her.
She turned her full attention back to the warehouse floor, trying to ignore the wall of masculine heat that was stalking her. Wild, unwelcome thoughts flooded her mind as his presence loomed just out of reach. Instinctively, she flitted her gaze back up to his tall form, only to see him much closer than she expected, looking down his long, perfectly straight nose at her.
“Enough of the games.” Delta drove it home, clear and authoritative. “I saw what Hunter almost did to you. We can’t let that slide.”
Absorbing his words, she took an unstable step backward, her thighs vibrating slightly from the intensity of his sharp gaze. Her heel clicked on the concrete floor as she stumbled, the sound echoing throughout the room.
“We can’t let that slide?” Kendra whispered into the dusty air. “There’s no ‘we’.”
“He’s dangerous,” Delta growled, that familiar fire in his eyes driving warning alarms in her. “Don’t trust him.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but Hunter would never hurt me.” As she slid backward, everything in her body screamed for help.
Without explanation, Delta trailed in her wake, his eyes locked on her. There was no getting away. It was one thing to be warned, another to be warned by a man who made her feel patently unsafe. She flashed her gaze to the entrance, hearing the distant voices of her colleagues outside the building. Any second, someone could come in. She begged for that to happen.
“It’s you who I can’t trust,” she replied, keeping her eyes locked on Delta.
“Wrong.”
“You need to leave.”
With crossed arms, he planted his powerful legs like tree trunks, clearly unwilling to be moved, waiting for her submission.
“I swear to God, Matteo. I’ll shoot you.” A pained tone escaped her lips, like a cornered animal.
“You wouldn’t—”
The voices that she’d heard outside suddenly grew louder, yelling to take cover. In a flash, Delta lunged toward her, grabbing her protectively, shielding her. Gunshots ricocheted outside, followed by unintelligible shrieking. Chills ran up and down her body while Delta squeezed her closer.
What the hell is going on?
Shaking, she glanced up and drank in his determined face. She realized he’d made himself into her human shield as he pulled her toward the side of the room. He’d switched into fight mode, and she observed his calculating eyes searching the room, likely looking for any detail that could make the difference between survival and death. She sucked in a breath, hearing sirens outside and continued shouting.
At the side of the room, they stopped. Delta assessed her, his grip tightening while she strained to listen, trying to comprehend what the situation was. His searching eyes reminded her of another time—of things she’d rather forget. It was the first time she’d had his body against hers in a long while. She wasn’t ready to experience his effect. His darkened gaze, angry yet intent, drove a familiar deep need in her core, so intoxicating that she had no choice but to react one way or another. Choosing self-protection, she reflexively slammed on his chest to push him away.
A bullet crashed through one of the intact windows near the front of the building, sending shattered glass everywhere. Kendra shrieked, unwillingly stumbling into his warm body. Holding her to his chest, he swiftly moved them into an adjoining hallway, pulling her farther into the darkness, silently and without permission. Just like him, he didn’t ask. He simply did what he wanted. She panted, detained in a bear-hug against his hard chest, as the war continued in front of the building, complimenting the war that raged within her.
Delta dropped his head, uttering into her ear, “Now’s a good time to pull out your gun.”
“I don’t actually have it.” She whispered her confession, knowing full well she rarely brought her service weapon anywhere anymore. Shooting him had been an empty threat.
“You lied to me?” his gravelly voice questioned, his forearms flexing as he tightened her back against him. Her breath shortened with his hold as he continued, “Do you know what happens to girls who lie to me?”
I know very well. The reminder sent tremors up her thighs as she sensed his touch rising up her chest toward her neck. The torture tactics he engaged in were unconscionable, both physical and psychological. Moving her as he wished, he spun her around slowly in his grasp, as though she were his ballerina, so that they came face to face. Her mind cried in revolt, but her body grew increasingly supple, willing, acquiescing to his silent demands, like she was wont to do.
Reluctantly, she tilted her chin up to him, inhaling that heady wood smell she distinctly remembered. He had always been so much taller than her, well into the six-foot-three range, but with heels she was tall enough that all he had to do was drop his head and find her mouth. That fact was both terrifying and thrilling. She couldn’t believe that there she was, held in his arms once again.
“You never told me what you wanted.” He stationed his mouth just inches above hers.
A kiss, she fantasized, but she tightened her lips. “I’m not doing this,” she said, shaking her head slightly, affirming that she wouldn’t fall victim to the man twice—a man who was certainly guilty of using her for his own gratification.
She pressed her eyes shut—not wanting to believe her own sensations, not wanting to acknowledge the burning desire she still carried for him. She was not going to go through that again.
“I wanted to call,” Delta explained too easily, driving pain through her chest. “I wanted to see you again.”
“No, you did not,” she ground out, attesting her truth.
As the words rolled off her tongue, Delta snapped off one of his dark gloves and reached his bare hand up to her chin, angling her mouth upward. The motion was so smooth, so fast, that she was caught off guard, shocked and paralyzed as he held her face. Submitting to him was easy—and it was her expected state.
“You think you know what I wanted?” he challenged her, as his grip tightened on her jaw.
“I think we both know.”
“No,” he growled, his mouth too close to hers, “you have no idea.”
She pouted, questioning if he would take her mouth. The anticipation was the same as his grasp—gripping and consuming, just the way she remembered it from that one fateful night so long ago when she’d lain under his body, taking every inch of him.
He slipped his hand down her throat, controlling, caressing and pushing her hair behind her ear, like he was assessing his prize. Whatever buzz he drove in her was threatening to pop. God, he made her so high. And the way that he was breathing down on her promised things that he still wanted to do.
“I know bad intentions when I see them,” he admitted, dropping his head to brush her lips with his. “Don’t let your guard down.”
Reflexively, like touching a hot stove, Kendra snapped her head back. Simultaneously, the sounds of car tires squealed, clearly pulling away from the street.
Spinning in Delta’s arms and pushing away, she cried out in finality, “Just leave me alone—” As she spoke, the glove that he’d taken off dropped onto her foot, and he sank back into the shadows, leaving her alone in the hallway.
“I want you out of my life,” she called out to no one.
All she
could see was a momentary crack of daylight as the back door opened and shut. A hollowing silence filled the space, and she felt an emptiness inside. The man she’d thought of too much for an entire year had disappeared once again. Yet this time, it was just as she’d asked.
“Kendra!” Hunter called from the front of the building, pulling her attention back to reality.
She turned to her boss’ voice, disoriented, expecting to wake up from a dream.
“Kendra! Where are you? I told you this was fucking gang related.”
Hunter’s calls drove an undeniable feeling within her. She wished it were another man calling her name.
She turned to leave but remembered the lump at her foot. Reaching down in the shadows, she fumbled for Delta’s forgotten glove—the only piece of evidence that proved it wasn’t a dream at all. Walking back into the main room where there was light and she could get a better look, she ran her fingers over the rough black material of the glove. Surprised, she observed holes in it from overuse and detected a substance akin to dried blood on a few of the knuckles.
What the hell has he been up to?
Chapter Three
“The components are separated,” the laboratorian called over to Kendra as she reviewed the centrifuge results across the counter. “Can you pass me my notebook?”
“Sure, just give me a second,” Kendra mumbled back, glued to her own analysis.
Carefully, Kendra repositioned Delta’s glove on her lab plate, getting a better angle of it under the microscope. The glove was black and tactical—like something the military would issue. She knew that type of gear well from her early policing days on the road, having been issued something similar. With reminders like those, she thanked her lucky stars that she’d gotten in with LAPD’s forensics lab, leveraging her master’s in science. She’d settled right into the behind-the-scenes role, trying to forget every bad call she’d made in uniform.
Delta’s glove really told a story. The knuckles were well used, with rips and holes, like someone had been punching concrete walls—or concrete faces. Knowing him, anything was possible. Kendra was validated to see indicators of blood, just as she had supposed. It wasn’t that fresh, but it wasn’t too old either. His knuckles must have bled through at some point recently, leaving a trace on the stiff material. But why had his hand been bleeding? Surely, he couldn’t actually be punching concrete. Idle curiosity flowed through her mind. What did that man get up to at night?
Under Pressure Page 2
