Her Fierce Warrior (X-Ops #4)

by Paige Tyler

  “I think she’s worried I’m going to end up in the field,” Layla said, “and that scares her.”

  Jayson lifted a brow. “You, a field operative? Seriously? You’re a shrink. Why the heck would she think the DHS would put you in the field?”

  Layla’s head snapped up, and for a moment, he was reminded that she was indeed Ivy’s sister. The look she was giving him right now could have stripped paint off a car at ten feet. But just as fast, it was gone, replaced by one of indifference.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’m just reading the situation wrong.”

  She was stonewalling. Whether it was because the subject was classified or simply because it involved her sister, Layla wasn’t telling him the whole story—again.

  Layla finished cutting the burrito, then pushed her plate to the center of the table, so they could share. When he gave her a curious look, she smiled. “I want to make sure I save room for dessert.”

  More likely, she was simply being nice. She could have easily put away the whole thing if she’d wanted. She just liked sharing food with him. As they each took turns eating bites off her plate, Jayson certainly wasn’t going to complain. Sharing could definitely be fun.

  Layla moved her chair closer to his, and they huddled together as they ate the tres leches cake with strawberries he’d been forced to buy from the bakery down the street because he knew there was no way he’d ever be able to make it himself. Every time their shoulders or arms made contact, it sent little zaps of electricity shooting across his body. Damn, he had it bad.

  He was still thinking about that when Layla put down her fork, then leaned in close and planted a warm, soft kiss on his cheek. Yeah, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but it still felt damn nice.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  She gave him a smile that just about stopped his heart. “No reason. Can’t a girl kiss her guy after he went to so much trouble cooking a special dinner for her?”

  He lifted a brow. “You realize that I bought the cake at the bakery, right?”

  She whacked his arm. “Stop. It was a perfect dinner. Very romantic. And I loved it.”

  Without another word, Layla kissed him again, this time right on the lips. Damn, she tasted frigging amazing.

  The kiss lingered for only a moment before Layla pulled back. “Why don’t we toss everything in the dishwasher, so we can move this over to the couch?”

  Jayson would have said the hell with the dishes, but Layla was so responsible. She did most of the work, while he took care of the stuff that had to go back in the fridge. And he was able to handle it without moving too horribly slowly or twinging his back.

  Once they hit the couch—a big, comfy job that his back absolutely loved—Layla snuggled up close and gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  Layla’s lips moved from his cheek back to his mouth. He slid his fingers in her long hair and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. God, her kisses were like a drug he could get really addicted to.

  They had made out a few times before this, but it had never been very serious—more like curious friends than lovers. But it was getting serious now, especially when Layla decided it would be easier to kiss him if she was straddling his lap. In a graceful move that would’ve put a cat to shame, she swung one leg over both of his and settled herself comfortably on his crotch—all without breaking their kiss.

  His cock immediately took notice of the sudden warmth parked just above him, perking up enough to suggest that maybe his doctors at Walter Reed had been right and that none of the nerve damage he’d sustained during his back injury had affected his ability to have normal sex. He’d never quite believed them, since he hadn’t had the opportunity to test out their claims. Hell, he couldn’t even remember getting a hard-on since his accident.

  But as Layla wiggled back and forth on his lap while they kissed, her skirt riding a little higher up her thighs, the heat from her panty-covered pussy engulfing his cock through his jeans, he had to admit he was starting to get a nice erection now.

  Apparently Layla noticed too, because the grinding she was doing couldn’t have been by accident.

  Both her hands cradled the back of his head; all ten of her eager fingers weaved tightly into his hair. Jayson couldn’t stop himself from letting his mouth drift sideways, following the line of her jaw until he reached her ear, then letting his tongue taste her there.

  The half purr, half moan that escaped her lips was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard, and he had a sudden desire to make her do both a whole lot more. He imagined carrying her to his bed, yanking off her clothes, and licking her all over until she went insane from the pleasure, then burying himself deep inside her and riding her hard as those beautiful, strong legs of hers wrapped themselves around his waist, urging him for even more.

  The brakes slammed down on that vision real quick, and reality came crashing in with a seriously painful thud.

  He couldn’t do any of those things, he realized suddenly. His screwed-up back would never let him make love to Layla like that—ever.

  And with that realization, all the fire and excitement he’d been feeling dissolved as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him.

  Layla obviously picked up on that because she drew back to look at him. “Jayson, are you okay? Did I hurt you or something?”

  The question destroyed any remaining sexual tension between them. They would never be able to make love like two normal people. She would always have to hold back, out of fear that she might hurt him. What kind of woman would ever be satisfied in a relationship like that? He wanted Layla more than any woman he’d ever known, but he was never going to have her—not the way he wanted…or the way she deserved.

  Whatever hard-on he’d had was gone now, and knowing that Layla was fully aware of it made looking at her one of the toughest things he’d ever had to do.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me. I just think we need to slow down,” he said softly. “We don’t have to rush into anything, you know?”

  She looked at him like she was about to cry, which made him feel even worse. “But I thought maybe tonight we could make love, as part of celebrating everything that’s going good for both of us.”

  Layla had wanted to take their relationship further for a while now. He’d known that. But if tonight had shown him anything, it was that their relationship had gone about as far as it could go.

  He swallowed hard, shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to work out tonight. Maybe we can try some other time.”

  Jayson could tell Layla was fighting to hold back the tears, and he felt like kicking himself. Why the hell didn’t he just have the balls to tell her that this was never going to work, so she could find someone else to have a life with?

  Probably because his balls had been damaged by that RPG as much as his back.

  She bit her lip. “Do you think it would be okay if I spent the night? We can just sleep in the same bed together. We don’t have to do anything.”

  He found it easier to shake his head this time. “You have to work tomorrow, and I have an early rehab appointment. It might be best if you headed home.”

  Jayson thought she was going to argue, and he didn’t have a fucking clue what he would say if she did. But then as quickly and as gracefully as she’d climbed on his lap, she was off.

  “Thanks for the dinner,” she said softly as she grabbed her coat from the overstuffed chair. But she didn’t look at him as she spoke or as she put on her coat.

  Then she was gone, and he was left there on his couch, wondering what the hell had just happened. A couple hours ago, he had been a handicapped vet with few if any job possibilities, an approaching financial crisis, and a good shot at a lifetime of pain.

  But he’d had an amazing woman in his life to balance out all that shit.

  Now, he was pretty sure he didn’t have that woman, and he wasn’t sure
where his life went from here…except down.

  Chapter 6

  Minka couldn’t believe she was hungry again, especially since she and Angelo had eaten breakfast barely two hours ago, but when Zarina had brought out a plate of soft, flaky pastries for them to nibble on while they talked, she sat down and eagerly grabbed a Danish. Minka didn’t know whether it was being in captivity for so long or the animal inside that made her ravenous lately. Regardless, the pastries were too delicious to pass up.

  “So, the doctors injected you with this blood-like serum within a day or so of your capture?” Zarina asked as she sipped her tea.

  Minka nodded. “Yes.”

  She didn’t like to talk about it because talking about it only reminded her of how horrible those men had been to her. But before Angelo left her alone with Zarina, he’d told her it was important to tell the doctor as much as she could remember about what had happened to her.

  She broke off a piece of Danish but didn’t eat it. “After they injected me, there was so much pain that I didn’t think I would survive, but after it subsided and I was able to open my eyes and look in the mirror they held up to me, I saw my eyes were no longer brown but green and that I had fangs.” She swallowed hard. “They told me they’d made me better, but I knew right then that they’d turned me into an animal.”

  Yesterday, she would have said monster, but after talking to Angelo last night, she preferred to think he was right and that she wasn’t a monster. But she did turn into a beast, there was no denying that.

  “Did they inject you with the serum just that one time?” Zarina asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But your eyes didn’t glow red right away?”

  Minka shook her head. “No. All I know is that they were green that first time; then later, the doctors told me that my eyes glowed red, especially when I was angry.”

  “I’m guessing the doctors made you angry on purpose to see how you would respond,” Zarina said.

  Minka nodded. “There was so much rage inside me, and I could never control it, no matter what I did. It wasn’t very hard for them to make me angry. All they had to do was threaten to hurt me, and the beast would come out. Sometimes the beast would go away after that. Other times, it would stay in control for days, and I’d be forced into the background and have to watch the beast rage without being able to do anything.”

  “I know how hard that must have been for you,” Zarina said. “But the rage seems to go away anytime Angelo is around, right?”

  Minka couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. I don’t understand why it happens. It’s like he is my guardian angel, watching over me and keeping the beast away. When he is near, I feel safe. Like nothing and no one can hurt me.”

  Zarina regarded her thoughtfully. “So he doesn’t have to be touching you for you to keep the rage at bay? He just has to be close?”

  “Yes.”

  Minka hadn’t realized until last night, while she was lying in bed, that she could actually feel Angelo out in the living room. It hadn’t been as comforting as having him right there beside her—which is why she’d abandoned the bedroom and moved out to the couch with him—but it had kept the beast “at bay,” as Zarina said.

  She slowly turned in her chair until she was facing the back wall, the one with a framed photograph of a field of snow. Minka closed her eyes and thought of Angelo. Within moments, she immediately knew where he was in the complex. Not because she could hear him talking, or pick up his delicious scent—he was too far away. But there was some sense that told her he was in one of the offices in the next building over.

  Minka turned to face Zarina again. “Angelo is that way, maybe thirty or forty meters. And he is worrying about me at this very moment.”

  She couldn’t tell the doctor how she knew either of those things. She just did. But his proximity, and the fact that he was thinking about her, were the reasons she was able to stay calm right then, even though he wasn’t in the same room with her.

  “That’s amazing,” Zarina whispered.

  Minka agreed, though probably for different reasons. The fact that she knew where Angelo was standing at any given moment was certainly interesting. But she would save the word amazing to describe last night.

  Being able to sleep on Angelo’s big, muscular chest had been the closest thing to heaven she could imagine existing in this world. Hearing his strong heart beating under her ear the whole night had lulled her into the deepest and most comfortable sleep she had ever had in her life.

  Then, when they’d woken up that morning, he told her that he’d make breakfast while she used the bathroom first. A man making her breakfast? That was something she’d never imagined could happen.

  Truthfully, she could have stayed there on the couch with him all day. She almost blushed at the direction her mind went when she thought of cuddling up on his naked chest again, like she had last night. It had been very difficult not to run her fingers through his hair. She’d been very careful not to put her hands anywhere they weren’t supposed to go, but still. Those soft, black shorts he’d been wearing did little to hide that there was something very interesting down there. And if her hip had occasionally brushed up against it while she was on the couch with him, she could hardly be blamed for being curious.

  Minka quickly shoved a piece of Danish into her mouth and chewed, hoping Zarina wouldn’t see her face flaming scarlet. She’d never had those kinds of thoughts about a man before. But then again, she’d never met anyone remotely like Angelo.

  When Minka finally looked at Zarina, it was to find the doctor regarding her with an expression that could only be described as concerned.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Zarina smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m very happy that you can be calm around Angelo.” The Russian doctor hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure if she should continue. “It’s just that you’re going to need to find a way to control the rage inside you when Angelo is not with you. He’s in the army. At some point, he has to go back to his team, wherever they might be.”

  A part of Minka knew that, of course, but hearing it out loud terrified her so badly, the control she’d had a moment earlier started to crumble. Her breathing came faster. Then her claws and fangs popped out. Suddenly, the urge to tear into something was overwhelming, and it was all she could do not to lunge at the woman across from her.

  “Zarina, I cannot stop it,” she growled. “Get out and lock the door. Find Angelo. Hurry!”

  Minka expected Zarina to run full speed for the door, but the other woman stood up and immediately came around to her side of the table and shoved Boris into her hands. Then, as if she didn’t even care that Minka was a split second away from turning into an animal that would shred her to pieces, Zarina knelt down by her chair and started talking to her softly in Russian.

  Minka closed her eyes and hugged Boris, desperately trying to keep the beast in its cage. But the beast was winning; she could feel it taking control.

  Zarina stayed right beside her, telling her to relax, telling her that it would be fine, to think about Angelo being nearby, to think about his arms around her.

  Minka wasn’t sure how long it took, but when she finally opened her eyes, Zarina was back in her seat, writing notes on a pad. Somehow, the Russian doctor had successfully kept the beast from getting out.

  “I’m sorry,” Minka said softly. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Zarina glanced up from her notes with a small smile. “Yes, you do. You got scared at the thought of Angelo not being here with you, and you lost control. All the more reason to learn some different techniques to control your darker side.”

  Minka didn’t say anything. She needed Angelo like she needed air. Without him, she would be an animal in a cage, just like she’d been in Tajikistan. She’d escaped but would never be free of the one thing that truly haunted her.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away.

  She was about to ask what these other techniq
ues that Zarina had mentioned were—not that she thought any of them would work—when she picked up a familiar scent that immediately put her on alert.

  Zarina must have seen her tense because the doctor turned toward the doorway the same time Minka did. It was the rat-faced man from yesterday, the one she instinctively knew would always be a threat to her.

  He gave her an appraising look, his gray eyes taking in the tea and the Danish and the way she was still clutching Boris to her chest.

  “Is the hybrid sedated, Dr. Sokolov?” he asked.

  Zarina stood up and moved closer to the door, as if to keep him from coming in. Was it her imagination, or did he actually take a step back? That was odd, considering Zarina struck Minka as one of the least intimidating and most compassionate people she’d ever met.

  “Of course, I haven’t sedated her, Dick. That would be unnecessary, not to mention rude.”

  That was his name—Dick.

  From Minka’s time on the base where she’d worked with the U.S. military as a translator in Tajikistan, she knew the word dick was slang for male genitals. It clearly fit him.

  Minka was so caught up in those thoughts that she almost missed what Dick and Zarina were saying, something about where Minka had been found, how she’d become a hybrid, and why she seemed to be so much more in control than any other hybrid the DCO had found.

  “Sergeant Rios found her somewhere in southeastern Tajikistan,” Zarina said. “Minka escaped from a facility almost certainly run by the two doctors who were working with Stutmeir, but she very rarely saw them. She was heavily drugged when she escaped and wandered for weeks. She has no idea where the actual lab facility is.”