He set her down gently and then went to deal with the condom. When he returned, she was tugging her clothing into place. She looked up at him with wide blue eyes, and he felt a kick somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his throat scratchy and tight.
She pushed her hair over her shoulder. He’d tugged it free of its confinement when he’d backed her against the wall. He loved her hair down. It made her look soft and sensual, not serious and uptight.
“What for?”
“For sending mixed signals. I told you one night only, and then I didn’t stick to what I’d said.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“You should. You should tell me not to touch you again.”
She shrugged. “Fine… don’t touch me again.”
He snorted. “You don’t mean it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you said it too quickly. If I walked over there and kissed you, you’d let me.”
“Then try.”
But her expression softened and his gut clenched with fresh need. Not that he was capable right this minute, but still. “Give me an hour. Maybe two.”
She laughed. “Am I too much for you, Mr. Manners?”
“Maybe so.” But he laughed too. He liked laughing with her.
His phone rang, cutting into the moment. Matt Girard was on the other end.
“How you doing out there, Ice?”
Guilt sliced into him. “We’re good.”
“Going to need you to stay put for a while. Got info on the guys who broke into Dr. Campbell’s house—you aren’t going to like it.”
“I already didn’t like it.”
“Yeah, well, they were soldiers.”
Garrett saw red. “Whose?”
“Can’t say just yet—but someone wants that formula Dr. Campbell has. There was no trace of the body you shot, by the way. There was blood, but no trail. He was picked up and moved, but not before his teammates thought to cover their tracks. The alarm system was disarmed and the front door busted in. There were no fingerprints.”
Grace was watching him, her expression wary. He wanted to reach for her and tug her into the circle of his arms. No way in hell was he letting anyone get to her. The thought of anyone harming her made him sick to his stomach.
“What are we doing about it?”
“The usual, Ice. Mendez is working his contacts, but we’ve got no information beyond what I just told you. Whoever they are, they know what they’re doing.”
“Are they the same people who came after her at the lab?”
“Probably not, considering she got away so easily.”
That’s what he thought too. Being distracted by the panic feature of a car alarm was the work of an amateur, not a professional.
Which made this whole situation even more worrisome than it already was. That was at least two separate groups by his count. And where did Ian Black fit into the mix? Though really, the smart thing to do for Black if he wanted her was to romance her. All he’d needed to do was invite her out for a date—and take her.
Though perhaps Garrett’s presence at the banquet the other night had changed his plans.
“Any word on Black?”
“He’s still in DC. Surprisingly, no one seems to care except us. And we have no reason to pick him up on US soil.” Matt sighed. “I’m sending Flash, Dex, and Fiddler your way. Mendez and I both think it’s time we gave the doctor a bit more protection.”
“All right.” He knew it was the right thing to do, but a part of him didn’t like the thought of the other guys arriving and changing the dynamic.
But that was just what he needed, really. No more fighting himself for wanting her. No more telling himself just one more time. There would be no more times.
And it was best all around. Grace didn’t need his shit in her life.
“ETA around 1500 hours. We’ve got some things to get done first.”
“Copy.”
They finished the call and Garrett tucked his phone back into his jeans.
Grace was nibbling her lip. “What’s going on?”
He thought about lying to her, about sugarcoating the truth—but he couldn’t. She was too smart for that, and he already knew she didn’t like being treated like her opinion didn’t matter.
“The guys last night were different from the one who tried to attack you at the lab. And they left no evidence other than a blood stain, which means they were professionals.”
“Okay.” She was standing with her hands clasped together and taking it all in like she was accustomed to dealing with madmen chasing after her. “You asked about Ian. Why? I told you he’s a family acquaintance.”
“Yes, I know that—but it doesn’t make him a good guy, Grace. My agency has dealt with him before.”
She pulled in a breath, her mouth flattening. “Very well.”
“Three of my teammates are coming later today. The situation is more intense now, and you need more protection than one man can provide.”
She blinked. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He went over and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezed softly. The situation was definitely changing, and he wasn’t so sure his manners mattered anymore. It wasn’t likely Grace was going to any of her father’s events between now and her speech at the WHO conference. “But Grace, if I’m ordered to go, then I have to go.”
Her eyes glittered. “So I guess that’s it. If they tell you to go, you’ll go. And I won’t see you again.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulders. She wasn’t slight, but she was smaller than he was, and he had an overwhelming urge to protect her. But he wouldn’t lie to her. “Probably not, no.”
She dropped her gaze. And then she stepped away, out of his grip, and wrapped her arms around her middle as she turned to stare out the glass doors at the woods beyond. The leaves were beautiful colors, red and yellow, green and gold and brown, and they fell in flurries as the wind whipped up. “Well, I guess I should thank you now. I don’t know why you decided to go against your personal code for me, but it was… just what I needed when I needed it. You made me feel special and beautiful—and I haven’t felt that way in a very long time. So thank you.”
“You are special, Grace. And sexy as hell.”
He didn’t know what else she wanted him to say, but when she turned her head to look at him, her gaze sparkled with unshed tears. It made his heart clench to know he’d caused that.
“I’m going to lie down,” she said softly. “I didn’t sleep well.”
He knew why that was. They both did. But he just nodded as if everything was perfectly normal—and watched her walk away. She shut the door behind her, and he stood there with his feelings boiling and churning. If he thought his fist could handle it, he’d punch a wall again.
*
Grace knew she should work on her paper, but the truth was she couldn’t concentrate. She slapped her computer closed and sat on the edge of the bed with her hands between her knees. Garrett was in the next room, and her body was still zinging with the aftershocks of that frantic coupling against the wall. He’d taken her hard and fast, his body intense—and she’d loved every moment of it. There was just something about having a man like Garrett between her legs that made her belly flip and tighten every single time.
Or maybe it was more than that. She owned him in those moments, and she loved the way that made her feel. The look on his face as he drove into her, the sounds he made, the way his voice broke when he came.
He made her feel powerful, beautiful, special.
She told herself not to be naïve, that it was clear he didn’t have trouble in the bedroom department, and that she was obviously a convenient receptacle for his passion. He’d make any woman feel that way—and probably had.
She’d walked away from him because he’d said he might have to leave and that he’d never see her again if he did. It w
asn’t an unreasonable thing to expect, because they didn’t really know each other, but all of a sudden the thought of being without him had hurt. And the fact that he didn’t seem too bothered by it hadn’t helped.
If he had to walk away, if he was ordered to go somewhere else, he would. Just simply pick up and go away and let the next guy take care of her.
Would he wonder if the next guy was sleeping with her? Would he care? Or had he already moved on mentally?
The thought made her gut churn and her head hurt—but not as much as the piercing wail that shattered the silence. It was like a fire alarm, blaring incessantly, and Grace jumped to her feet just as the door burst open. Garrett loomed in the entry with a backpack and a furious expression.
“We gotta go, Grace. Now.”
She grabbed her computer and shoved it into her case, then ran to his side. He hurried her out the door and down the stairs. They bolted for the detached garage where he’d left his car.
“Get in the backseat and keep your head down,” he ordered as he yanked open his door.
Grace threw her bag in the backseat and jumped in the front before he could stop her.
“Grace—”
“No, I’m staying up here with you. I’ll get down and stay down, but if something happens to you, I’d at least like to be able to reach the wheel.”
He swore as he shoved the car into gear. “Fine.”
His foot lay on the brake. She wondered what he was waiting for. Her heart hammered and her pulse thrummed. Her throat was utterly dry.
But Garrett sat there staring at the closed garage door until she began to wonder if his plan was to asphyxiate them with carbon monoxide.
His phone chirped then and he shot her a look. “Showtime. Hold on, cupcake.”
She’d thought he might put the garage door up, but he didn’t. He just stomped on the gas and the car blasted through the door, shattering the wood and sending it flying. She supposed she needed to be thankful it wasn’t a metal door, but it was still louder than hell—and twice as frightening when the wood burst.
Grace held on to the door and the console between them as they shot out into the open. There was a truck and a car by the house, and men with rifles turned as they rocketed by.
“Get down,” Garrett shouted at her as something cracked.
Grace dropped sideways as far as the seat belt would let her go. She craned her neck, her eyes on Garrett as he cursed and drove. The car bumped and thumped along the dirt road, and bits of gravel plinked against the sides. Or maybe those were bullets.
They were suddenly spinning sideways and the tires squealed as they hit pavement. It took a moment to get going, but then they were flying down a paved road instead of dirt and the car was gaining speed.
Grace’s heart was in her mouth. Garrett looked pissed—and determined. She didn’t doubt he would do his best to take care of her, but it terrified her to think of those men catching up to them. If she was the one they wanted, she had no doubt they’d kill Garrett without a second thought.
Garrett’s gaze went to the rearview and his jaw tightened. The car surged forward, and Grace’s stomach turned over. Whoever those men were, they couldn’t be allowed to catch up. Grace eased herself upright again and turned to look behind them. There were headlights, but they were about a mile back.
“What can I do?”
Garrett didn’t even glance at her. “Nothing. Stay down and stay out of the way.”
“What if they catch us?”
“They won’t. As soon as the perimeter was breached, my guys knew about it. They’re on the way.”
She could only blink at him. “Garrett, unless they have supersonic speed, they’ll never get here in time!”
He threw her a glance. “Maybe they do. In the meantime, we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
He whipped the car sideways while Grace tried very hard not to lose the breakfast she’d eaten. Then they were bumping down a country road, going far too fast for comfort. When he spun the car onto another road, she turned to look behind them. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean anything.
When they came out onto another paved road, she breathed a little easier. There was still no sign of their pursuers, and she could finally unclench her fingers from the leather. Her nail prints would leave permanent marks probably.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
“Only for the moment. We need to change cars though.”
“Change cars? Do you have another one tucked away somewhere?”
“Nope. We’re going to borrow one.”
Grace gaped. She was the daughter of a presidential candidate—and this man wanted to borrow a car from some poor unsuspecting soul. It was almost enough to make her laugh—except it was deadly serious and no laughing matter at all.
“And where are we going to find this car?”
“There’s a town about five miles up the road. We’re going to ditch this car, and then I’m going to stroll into town and find a substitute while you wait.”
Grace could hardly believe her ears. “I’m going to hide behind a tree somewhere and wait for you to return with a, I don’t know, beat-up old Tempo or something? I don’t think I like that idea.”
His expression was grim. “I don’t like it either, but it’s all I can think of at the moment.”
Up ahead, there was a sign for a motel, the kind that used to dot the highways years ago before all the chains took over and built their motels alongside interstate exits.
“Jackpot,” Garrett said as he turned in and drove behind the motel.
They would be hidden from the road, but it wasn’t much protection in the long run. Garrett drove slowly, scanning the cars until he found one that must have suited him. It was a beat-up blue-and-white truck, the kind of old farmer’s truck that still hauled hay and feed on a million small farms across the nation.
He parked beside it and got out. Grace did the same, grabbing her bag as she did so. Garrett stood and looked around the parking lot, but no one was about. It was daylight, but there wasn’t anyone stirring in the back of the motel. It wasn’t the kind of motel where you’d expect people to be outside. No, it was either a low-income home for many, which meant they were probably working somewhere, or it was the kind of place where couples met up for quick sex during the day before going back to work or home to their spouses.
After standing there for a long moment, Garrett walked over to the truck and popped the door open. The keys were dangling from the steering column and he snorted. Then he grabbed his gear and slung it into the truck. Grace jumped inside and belted herself in, though it wasn’t easy to get the damn seat belt to work, while Garrett started the truck. It sputtered and coughed, and her heart thundered as they backed out of the spot.
No one came outside at the noise, though.
“What about your car?”
“It’s not mine.”
“I don’t like the idea of taking some poor farmer’s truck, Garrett.”
His steely eyes were serious as he looked at her. “No, I don’t either. But my people will find the owner and compensate him or her. It’ll be fine. Now get down and stay down, okay? Those people are looking for a man and a woman, not a man in an old truck.”
She lay across the seat, her head touching his leg, and stared straight ahead at the worn and faded dashboard. Wires dangled beneath the steering column, and candy wrappers lined the floor. The ashtray was full and an empty pack of Marlboros lay crumpled among the wrappers.
Down here, the musty smell of smoke was horrid. But she’d do what Garrett told her because she knew he was right.
He laid a hand on her hair briefly and then lifted it away again. She wanted to beg him to put it back, but both his hands went to the wheel and stayed there.
“How long do I have to stay like this?” she asked after several silent minutes had passed.
He’d turned onto the highway and was driving at a leisurely pace now, as if he didn’t have a care in the
world.
“Until I tell you different,” he said calmly. Infuriatingly.
“I don’t much like the view down here. And it’s uncomfortable.”
“I know, honey. Lie down with your head on my lap. At least you can sleep like that.”
She almost said no, but the truth was she wanted any excuse to touch him. So she unclipped her seat belt and stretched out across the seat until she could put her head in his lap. Then she turned until she was looking at his belly.
And his groin. His cock was right there in her face. All she had to do was slide his zipper down and she could put her mouth around it, suck him while they drove…
“Grace.”
She glanced up at him. “Hmm?”
“I said sleep, not torture me.”
“I’m not doing anything.” But her ears were hot.
“No, but you’re thinking it.”
She huffed. “You do not know that.”
“You’re lying there with your head in my lap and your eyes wide open. You might even have licked your lips. Pretty sure you aren’t thinking about sleep.”
“I’m thinking about lollipops. Licking them. Sucking them.”
“For Christ’s sake,” he groaned. “Stop. Not another word. Either close your eyes and pretend to sleep, or turn the other way. I’m trying to keep you alive here. As much as I might love the idea of your mouth on my cock, I’m pretty sure my ability to think would slide down the scale to zero. And trust me, you want me able to think right now.”
Grace closed her eyes. She wanted him to be able to think. But she wished even more that he didn’t have to.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GRACE FELL ASLEEP. Garrett didn’t think she would, but then they hadn’t slept much last night, and he wouldn’t let her sit up and therefore wake herself. Eventually, her breathing evened out and the tension in her body melted away. Too bad the tension in his didn’t follow.
But she was lying with her head in his lap, her lips inches from his dick, and all he could think of was that moment last night when she’d dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth. He’d probably had better blow jobs from women with more experience giving them, but he’d never had a sexier one.
Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) Page 14
