“I was there the day this frogman enlisted,” Gus continued, face beaming. “He’s a hero, Sandy. You hold on to him. In fact, you both hold onto each other. It does this old heart good to see two wonderful people finding each other.”
Gus’ gaze grew misty, and she felt a pang of guilt at letting him believe they were a couple, especially since he had such wonderful history with Archer’s family. But not knowing if it was important to maintain the ruse they started yesterday, she remained quiet.
“It was great seeing you again, Gus,” Archer said.
Releasing his shoulder, the old man nodded. “You, too, Archer,” he said, and dug a set of car keys from his pocket.
Wait a minute...
Her car keys.
How?
Gus dropped them into Archer’s outstretched hand and waved at the back door. “It’s parked out there.”
Nodding, Archer led her outside, where they found her SUV parked behind the dumpster.
“How?” she asked out loud that time.
He smiled, unlocked the doors and held hers opened while she got in. “I’ll explain in a minute.”
Nodding, she took the pizza from him and waited while he shut her door, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. “Your minute’s up.”
He started the engine and chuckled. “Your minutes are quick.”
As much as she liked how amusement relaxed his expression, she had too many questions and needed answers. “How did my car get here? Didn’t you say you said you took a chopper to the city this morning?”
“I did,” he replied, glancing at her. “I also contacted Gus before I left Jersey to ask if a friend could drop this vehicle off behind his pizzeria so I could pick it up.”
Okay... “But why here?”
He shifted her SUV into reverse and backed out onto the street. “Because, even though we swept this for bugs, I didn’t want to risk someone spotting it in the city if you’re on someone’s radar.” He shoved it into drive and headed southwest, zigzagging through several streets. “Plus, the safe house we’re using is close by.”
In less than five minutes, he pulled into the parking lot of a vacant warehouse and drove around the dilapidated building toward the old docks out back.
“Good choice. I feel safe already,” she said, half amused, half weary as he maneuvered through a large opening in a busted bay door. “If there’s no running water in here, I can always jump into the East River out back, to wash this smoke off me.”
“There’s plenty hot water inside. Trust me,” he said, smirk dimpling his cheek.
There was just enough arrogance in the tilt of his chin to give her pause for thought. He was up to something. Just like at the pizza shop, there was more than meets eye here. She remained quiet and watchful, and a little bit excited to see exactly what he had up his sleeve...besides solid muscles.
He drove through a large room with a high, steel-beamed ceiling surrounded by busted windows and around an old, rusted conveyer belt, then through an oversized door, into an area with no windows and only one door. He parked in front of it.
“Okay, this room doesn’t look like it’s about to fall apart,” she said. “So, I’m guessing there’s livable space behind that steel door?”
“Something like that.” He took the pizza from her. “Come on. I know you’re tired.”
She nodded. “My head is spinning, but it’s because I’d like to know what’s going on.”
After unlocking the door, he stepped aside for her to enter, and she was surprised to find herself in a lit stairwell that only headed in one direction—down. Descending the four flights, she noted the walls were solid concrete with no windows. At the bottom, Archer unlocked the lone door, using a combination of keystrokes on a keypad to the right, similar to the one outside the conference room that morning.
What if they got locked inside? Her chest unexpectedly tightened. Busting this wall was not an option. It, too, was solid concrete. A shudder ran unchecked down her body.
And wouldn’t stop.
Dammit.
Archer opened the door then took one look at her and frowned. “Hey. It’s okay,” he said, ushering her inside a large, open-concept apartment.
The ceilings were vaulted, and the space felt anything but closed in. She breathed a little easier. There were couches and tables and chairs, a big screen TV, a workout space in the far-right corner, a hallway to the right, and a set of stairs at the far-left that led to another hallway. The place was huge.
He set the pizza down on a kitchen island, before turning to face her. “You’re okay. Here, let me take that.” He removed the laptop bag from her shoulder and placed it next to the pizza.
“I know,” she said, still shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself and blew out a breath. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Holding her gaze, he ran his hands up and down her arms. “Shock is setting in. You’ve been through a lot today.”
She lifted a shoulder, and by concentrating on the feel of his hands brushing her skin, some of her disquiet settled. Just like in front of headquarters earlier, his delicious warmth seeped through her, and until that moment, Sandy hadn’t realized how cold she felt inside.
“Hey, come here. I got you,” he murmured, pulling her into him, and she sighed when his arms banded around her again.
All the questions she had would have to wait. Right now, she just needed this. Needed to soak up this man’s strength and warmth again. To give her mind and body a chance to rest and reset.
She slid her arms around the man and burrowed in, and judging by the tight hold he had on her, she got the impression he needed this, too. Unsure of how long it took, eventually her shaking stopped...and the embrace changed. Awareness crackled around them and a different type of heat invaded her body.
“Better?” he asked, his voice deliciously low near her ear.
Every part of her was aware of every part of him, and although she knew she should draw back and thank him for being kind, her body refused to listen to her mind. Need was taking over, recalling yesterday’s kiss. What had started out as a ruse had instantly morphed into a hot, teasing, tasting, tangle of desire she hadn’t expected. Now that desire was back, hoping for another round. But that was so unwise.
She inhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I just...thanks.”
Damn, he made thinking difficult.
Sandy focused on the living room visible behind him, noting the open area felt smaller and a hell of a lot more intimate than when they’d walked in. After several silent seconds ticked by and he didn’t make any move to release her, she shifted back enough to glance at his face. “Something wrong?”
He shook his head and remained silent, but the heat in his eyes spoke loud and clear. He was remembering that kiss...and wanted another, too. Her body trembled against his very hot, very hard body, needing what he wanted to give.
With the sexiest sound rumbling in his throat, Archer’s hand glided up her spine to cup the back of her head while his mouth crashed over hers, kissing her long and deep and frantic.
He devoured her strength and demolished her brain cells, drinking, taking, seeking, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was okay. Damn, he was a force of nature. And so hungry. So was she.
Sandy met his tongue stroke for stroke, and when he lifted her up and set her on the counter, she was grateful she wore a loose skirt when he moved to stand between her thighs. He had her pulse pounding and body shaking, reminding her that she was alive. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer.
A deep, sexy groan rumbled in his chest, and he rocked against her. Sandy moaned, heat pooling low in her belly. She returned the favor, rubbing against the large bulge in his jeans, nearly coming undone.
He broke the kiss to suck in air. “Damn, Sandy,” he muttered against her neck. “I have zero control with you.” Then he was kissing her throat while his hands skimmed down her sides.
“Me too.” She dropp
ed her hands to his lean hips, her mind and body unable to process all the sensations rushing through her.
The sound of a heavy door closing in the outside stairwell echoed with a muffled thud. They broke apart, and Archer helped her down before moving several feet away to the sink. Working to catch her breath, she watched the muscles ripple across his back and shoulders as he gripped the counter.
Damn, that was close. Last thing she wanted was to meet the other team members with her tongue down the boss’s throat.
He turned around and met her gaze. “You good?”
She snorted. Nowhere near it. “As I can be, today.”
His gaze softened, but he remained by the sink. “A shower, some pizza, and shop-talk should help.”
Sandy nodded, knowing full well it wasn’t food she was hungry for, but was hopeful the arrival of others would cool the chemistry between them.
***
Recovering his wits enough to walk around to the other side of the island and open the pizza box, Archer had just taken a bite of a slice when the rest of the team walked in with bags in their hands.
“Supply run,” the long haired, red-headed computer expert, TJ Lynch, stated unnecessarily. His eyes lit up. “Oh, pizza.” He dropped his bags by the wall, rushed over to grab a slice and thrust his free hand to Sandy. “I’m TJ. Handsome hacker, wisecracker extraordinaire at your service, ma’am.”
Sandy laughed, and the lighthearted sound reached into Archer’s chest with a surge of warmth. “Hi, I’m Sandy from DHS. A little roasted and toasted.”
More warmth surged through him. He liked her self-deprecating humor. He liked her...a lot. She got him. But good. After the mission, he was going to do something he hadn’t done in decades. Date. He was going to ask her out on a proper—get dressed in fancy clothes—date, with plenty more to follow. Given her responses to him, like the way chemistry had exploded between them five minutes ago, and she softened in his arms, he’d say his chances were good she’d say yes. The main obstacle he saw was her son. Hopefully, Brian wouldn’t have an issue with a retired SEAL dating his mother.
Archer waved his hand toward the couple stocking the cupboards. “That’s Bella and Matteo Santarelli. Like TJ, they work for the Knight Agency.”
“Except, I work out of D.C. and they work out of Atlantic City,” TJ said between bites.
Sandy nodded at the hacker then turned to the couple. “You two are married?”
Bella stepped forward to shake hands. “Yes, I finally broke down and made an honest man of him. And I’m really hoping you’ve found us some terrorists to hunt. I’m going through withdrawal.”
“Well, whoever they are, they just tried to barbeque me because of what we must’ve stumbled onto yesterday,” Sandy said, and his insides fisted tight as an image of her stuck in that burning room while he couldn’t do a goddam thing flashed through his mind. “So, they’re bad. Does that count?”
Bella released Sandy’s hand and grinned. “Absolutely.”
“We’re glad you’re okay,” Matteo said, stepping forward to shake Sandy’s hand and slip an arm around Bella. The man was a former SEAL Archer had the pleasure to command several years ago. “Don’t mind my wife. She hasn’t emptied her gun in anyone lately. She’ll feel better when she can draw her weapon.”
“Yes.” Bella nodded, sliding her arm around her husband while reaching for pizza with her free hand. “Any weapon. Gun. Blade. I don’t care. Just give me someone to bring down.”
Sandy laughed again. “I’ll do my best.”
He could tell she thought the woman was just being funny, but she wasn’t. Bella “Banshee” Monroe Santerelli was a former terrorist hunter for a secret government unit, and a hell of a good one. Archer’s SEAL team had worked with her once in Islamabad. Their job had been to get her inside a fortress, provide backup, and grab all the electronics. By the time they’d secured every laptop and hard drive in the place, Bella had taken out fourteen guards and two top-level ISIS heavy hitters upstairs. When he’d gotten back to base later, he watched the com footage, impressed as hell at the way she’d cut through the enemy like butter. Her moves were symmetric, almost like a well-timed waltz. Only a motivated, determined woman would move that way. Someone who wanted to wipe all terrorists off the face of the earth.
He was on board with that.
He also understood how a person that driven would go stir-crazy working in the private sector. She needed a target, but he couldn’t provide that yet. And although they were dealing with people willing to kill to keep their identity a secret, Archer wasn’t yet convinced it was terrorists. More investigating and digging were required. As well as more recon.
“This pizza’s good,” Bella said, before glancing up at Matteo. “Not as delicious as yours, honey. But definitely some of the best I’ve tasted in New York.”
The former SEAL nodded after finishing his second slice. “I agree. It’s good.”
Between cases, Matteo helped at the pizza shop his father owned on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Archer ate there often.
He understood his friend’s desire to keep an eye on his dad. Keep him safe. Archer felt the same about his mother. Right about now, she and her sister were on a private jet, courtesy of Jameson, on her way to a private resort off the coast of Florida, also courtesy of Jameson, for her early birthday present, courtesy of him. Archer wanted her off the grid and nowhere near the city until the mission was over. If his cover was somehow blown, he wouldn’t have to worry about her safety.
“Well, Sandy,” TJ said, nodding toward her bag behind her. “I see you’ve brought your laptop. I’m ready to get cracking on whatever you need me to do whenever you are.”
Archer straightened. “After she has the chance to shower and change.”
She sighed. “That’d be great. Both offers.”
She divided her smile between him and TJ, and Archer’s insides fisted tight for an entirely different reason this time. His muddled brain mixed up her meaning, and the thought of offering to take a shower with the sexy woman was enough to cause more than his tongue to swell.
“But someone wouldn’t allow me to go home to fetch clean clothes.” She looked pointedly at him.
“No worries.” Bella grinned. “Archer asked me to stop and pick up a few things for you on our way in from Jersey. The bags are in your room upstairs. First door on the right.”
“Oh.” Sandy blinked. “I thought you’d just arrived.”
Bella shook her head. “Nope. Stopped in, dropped stuff off, then as TJ said, made a supply run.”
“Oh,” Sandy repeated, then frowned. “How’d you know my size?”
A wide smile spread across the other woman’s face. “Archer told me.”
Shit.
Color rose up into Sandy’s cheeks, as she slowly met his gaze. “You did?”
He opened his mouth to tell her he hadn’t, but Bella beat him to it.
“Just kidding,” the woman said, grin still in place. “It was in your file.”
Sandy’s brows shot up. “They have my measurements in my file?”
“No.” Bella shook her head. “I went off your height and weight and your photo.”
“Oh,” Sandy said for the third time. “Sorry. Guess my mind is still befuddled from the smoke.”
Concern sliced through him, straightening his spine. “Is anything else bothering you? Maybe I should get you to the ER.”
“No. I’m fine,” she rushed to say. “I just need that shower and to change, and I’ll be good as new. So, if you could point me to my room and the bathroom, I’ll get going.”
“Come on. I’ll show you,” Bella said, and Archer watched the two women head for the stairs. “Each room has its own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about sharing.” Bella glanced at him while she climbed the stairs. “Unless you want to.”
Jesus, the woman was pushing it.
Matteo’s chuckle met his ears. “Sorry, sir. My wife’s in rare form today.”
He grunted, “I’d ask you to try to rein her in, but I know that’s folly.”
This time TJ laughed. “That’d be like trying to wrangle a feral cat.”
The three of them nodded at the accurate analogy.
“So, what’s your take on things? Do you have a game plan?” Matteo asked, leaning against the sink, arms folded across his chest.
“Yes.” He nodded. “We’ve reconned the outside of the bank. Now it’s time to recon the inside.”
Chapter Eight
Later that night, Sandy sat in what TJ called his “cyber sanctuary”, watching Archer, Matteo, and Bella working their way through every floor of the World Bank while efficiently avoiding security. If she hadn’t had a pounding headache, she might’ve thought it was dream, because...well, that was insane. So was the fact the three were setting up cameras and com links.
“Why are they necessary if you’ve hacked into the system?” she asked.
TJ glanced over at her and shrugged. “Insurance.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“In case this is that ghost group from Munich.”
She had no idea what he was talking about. “What group?”
His chin lifted, and he hit a few buttons that brought up a feed on one of his eight monitors of a bombing several years ago. She remembered it was a brewery or museum, and innocent tourists had been killed.
“Their MO is to cut electricity before they strike.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Insurance.” Now they had video access regardless.
TJ drummed on the console with his index fingers and grinned. “Exactly.”
Her heart rocked as a thought occurred. “What if the perpetrators are tapped into the feed and watching Archer and the others right now?”
The guy grinned, running a hand through his wavy red hair. “That’s the beauty of being me. I have the output running on a loop, so anyone watching won’t see a thing. But I can watch in real time here.” He pointed to a monitor. “No one’s the wiser.”
“Brilliant.”
He grinned. “I know.”
Sandy laughed. “Humble, too.”
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