Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7)

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Her father had said the same thing to her in his office, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t managed to work out some kind of deal he wasn’t going to share with her.

  Anger and frustration were beginning to boil together in her belly at the thought of how she’d been manipulated. Treated like a child in some ways, though she knew her father loved her and was worried. Still, he’d obtained Garrett and his guys somehow—and then he’d given them a key to her house. She wouldn’t forget that moment when he’d talked over her head to this man as if she weren’t even there.

  “Then who are you, Garrett? And don’t give me any of this crap about being a bodyguard. You owe me more than that.”

  “I don’t owe you anything, cupcake,” he growled. “I’ve protected you, and I’ll keep protecting you. Beyond that, there’s no obligation here.”

  His words stung, and not just because she wanted to know who he really worked for. They stung because of everything they’d done together. Because of how she felt when he was inside her, and how she felt when he’d left her last night to go get food. She’d been scared, and not just for herself.

  She cared about this man, more than she should, and he didn’t have any feelings beyond his duty. When he’d been inside her, telling her he didn’t care about the consequences of being with her, he’d lied. And the words had been so sweet in her ears, so perfect for someone who’d been lonely until he came along. But they’d been a means to an end, words said in the heat of the moment that had no meaning beyond the moment.

  “Oh, I’m very clear on that. You’ll screw me, even though you aren’t supposed to, but that’s all it is. You call the shots, and you take what you want, and I’m supposed to sit down and shut up and be grateful to you.”

  “My life is complicated. You know that.”

  “All I know is you have an ex-wife you hate and a daughter you love. I know your ex makes your life hell, and I know you’re good at what you do, whether it’s your job or sex. But that’s no more complicated than anyone else’s life. We all have complicated lives, Garrett. That’s what life is—complicated, messy, joyful, thrilling, heartbreaking, exciting. It’s all those things rolled into one, and sometimes it’s easy and sometimes it’s not. You don’t have a monopoly on complicated, so get over yourself.”

  Grace folded her arms and stared out the window. A wet mist hung over the road, making everything gloomy. It suited her mood perfectly. The trees and mountains rolled by, and the silence in the Jeep was thick.

  “I’m in the military,” Garrett said softly, and she swung around to look at him. “Special Forces.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear at all. It was shocking… and maybe even a little frightening. She needed military protection?

  Someone broke into your house, Grace—and found you in that cabin too. What do you think they wanted? To borrow a cup of sugar?

  Sometimes she hated that voice in her head—but it wasn’t wrong. And she wasn’t that naïve. She knew it was serious—but somehow the military made it seem even more so.

  “I can’t tell you more, so don’t ask,” Garrett said.

  “I’d really like to know how my father managed to get the military involved, but no one’s going to tell me that.”

  He snorted. “Trust me, I’d like to know that too. But I don’t.”

  “I guess this isn’t your typical assignment then.”

  “It’s not too far off, actually.” He shot her a look. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said. I do take what I want, but you take what you want right back. Don’t try to tell me it’s all me and you have no choice.”

  She knew he was right. She did take, but what she took was only what he offered. And she wanted more, though she knew he wasn’t going to give it to her. “Fair enough.”

  “I need you to know that I don’t do relationships. I know how that turns out, and I’m not going there. Not until Cammie is older, if ever. I won’t go through that kind of hell ever again, and I won’t put my daughter at risk.”

  Her throat ached. She understood his fear, understood why he wouldn’t want to try again, and it made her heart hurt for him. For all he was giving up.

  “First of all, no one is asking for a relationship. And second, it sounds like a lonely existence.”

  He shot her a look. “I’m not lonely.”

  She tapped her fingers on the armrest to give herself something to do when what she really wanted was to explode. “No, of course not. How could you be?”

  “You’re mocking me.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He groaned. “Jesus Christ, Grace, you make me crazy.”

  He drove her crazy too. So crazy she wanted to wrap her hands around his throat one minute and kiss him silly the next. “Then you’d better find out who’s after me so you can get rid of me and move on to the next job.”

  His knuckles on the wheel grew white as he squeezed. “Yeah, I guess I’d better.”

  *

  Garrett stopped in a small town about midday. First, he needed to find phones, and then he and Grace needed more clothing, especially warm clothing. He found a convenience store that sold prepaid phones and a thrift shop where they could pick up some cheap clothes. After he bought two of the most basic phones he could find, he took them out of the packaging and gave one to Grace.

  “If we’re separated, I want you to call the number I gave you. Don’t hesitate, call. A man will answer, and he’ll know it’s you. Tell him where you are.”

  She was looking at him wide-eyed, but she nodded. Grace wore her ball cap, her hair tucked up inside, her glasses perched on her nose, and he thought he’d never seen anyone so nerdy and sexy at the same time. He knew what was under that hat, the brown hair that fell down her back and felt like silk in his hands, and he knew what those lips could do when they were determined.

  As much as he wanted to kiss her, he turned away and led her toward the thrift shop. They split up inside, but he kept looking over at her, ostensibly to make sure she was okay—except he knew it was more than that.

  He had to look at her. Had to have that touchstone of her presence or his heart revved and panic slid along his nerve endings. Since last night, when he’d returned to the room late and expected her to be gone, he’d had this savage need to be near her. To see her.

  She took a hanger off the rack and looked at the T-shirt, frowning a bit as she did so. Then she checked the price and laid it over her arm. He let his gaze slide over her, from the hat and glasses down over her slim, curvy frame and back up again. She was serious now, browsing the aisles as if she were in Saks instead of inside a secondhand store, and he watched her for a long moment, forgetting his own quest for clothes.

  She wasn’t the sort of woman he’d look at twice if he saw her on the street, not dressed like this, and yet he couldn’t stop looking at her now. Of remembering the way she tasted, the way she sounded when he was inside her, the way she fell apart in his arms and begged him for more.

  He’d said to Brandy there wasn’t a woman alive with a pussy golden enough he needed to keep going back for more.

  He was paying for that remark now, because he was becoming obsessed with what Grace Campbell had between her legs. Between her ears too. Hell, with every last part of her. She was fascinating and unusual, and he was drawn to her like a drowning man to a life preserver.

  She looked up and caught him staring at her. There was still tension between them after their conversation earlier, but she gave him a shy smile and turned back to her shopping. After a few more minutes, she met him at the cash register with a handful of items. In addition to clothing, he’d found some camping gear—a tent and large sleeping blanket that would come in handy tonight. Instead of parking at a motel, he’d find a campground and they’d crash there.

  The kid rang them up, and he pulled cash from his wallet to pay. Once they had everything, they went out to the Jeep. He’d parked around the
side of the building, away from the other cars but not suspiciously far. They reached Grace’s side first, and he opened the door for her because that’s what was proper.

  She didn’t climb in, turning to him instead. “That was fun.”

  He searched her gaze for any hint of irony, but there was none. She meant it. “I’m surprised you liked it. Your everyday underwear probably costs more than this whole bag of stuff.”

  Underwear? Really? He just had to go there, didn’t he?

  She grinned. “It’s Victoria’s Secret, so probably. But I like bargain hunting. I’ve been known to hit Saturday-morning yard sales, you know.”

  He let his gaze drop to the swells of her breasts. He couldn’t think past her underwear. “I prefer Frederick’s of Hollywood myself.” That store had just a little bit of a racier vibe. Crotchless panties. Leopard prints. Lacy things that had no purpose other than to entice.

  As if he needed enticement.

  Her gaze dropped to the bag in his hands. “Are we going camping?”

  “Probably.”

  “I noticed there’s only one sleeping bag.”

  He could see her pulse throbbing in her throat. He wanted to put his mouth there and taste her skin, feel the life pulsing beneath his touch.

  “That’s all they had. We’ll have to make the best of it.”

  The silence between them was heavy. He was thinking of lacy underwear with no crotch, of sliding his cock inside her while she moaned—and she was probably thinking that she never wanted him to touch her again.

  And he wouldn’t, if that’s what she wanted.

  “I’m mad at you,” she said softly, and his gaze snapped up to meet hers. “But I’d still like to ride you until neither of us can form a coherent sentence.”

  He nearly swallowed his tongue. His cock went from half-hard to full mast in half a second. Instinctively, he crowded her into the open door, his hips pressing against hers, the pressure exquisite and torturous at the same time.

  “If we weren’t on the run, I’d find a hotel and keep you in bed for the rest of the day.”

  Something flickered in her eyes, some emotion he couldn’t quite figure out, but then she gripped his belt and tugged him harder against her body. He wanted to groan, but he didn’t.

  “If we weren’t on the run, you wouldn’t be with me, Mr. Manners.”

  A sharp pain stabbed into him as he searched her gaze. It was supposed to be true. One and done was his operational plan. But he didn’t like thinking of her with someone else. Didn’t like imagining Jeffrey—or fucking Ian Black—touching her velvety skin.

  “Then I guess I’m glad we’re on the run.”

  Her eyes behind the glasses were as blue as a perfect fall sky. “I thought you wanted to be rid of me.”

  He let his gaze drop to her mouth. “I didn’t say that. You did.”

  “You agreed with me.”

  “And now I’m disagreeing.”

  “I don’t understand you,” she said softly.

  He kissed her swiftly, his tongue sliding against hers, every cell in his body leaping into high alert. He was filled with raw energy, and he wanted to use it on pleasuring her.

  But this wasn’t the time or the place. He stepped back, his heart thudding in his chest. Her mouth was open, her lips moist and pink, and it took everything he had not to kiss her again.

  “That makes two of us, cupcake. Now get in the car so we can go.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HE TOOK BACK ROADS AND SIDE ROADS, avoiding the highway as much as possible. There was no sun to indicate which direction they were headed, but the occasional highway signs told Grace they were traveling south. Eventually, he stopped at a diner where he pulled out the phone he’d bought and sent a text as they were walking inside. Another text came back almost immediately.

  Grace was curious, but she needed the restroom entirely too much to hang around and find out who he was talking to. When she came back, he was standing at the counter and ordering cheeseburgers to go. She loved that he knew what she’d want without asking.

  The cheeseburgers came out within minutes, smelling heavenly in the takeout containers, and then they were on their way again.

  Grace took a bite of her burger as soon as they were moving. It was good in all the right ways. It had that fresh taste of a mom-and-pop diner, not the cardboard taste of a fast-food joint. The bun was greasy and the cheese dripped off the meat and fell onto her fries.

  It was just the way she liked it.

  “Did you call your guys?”

  Garrett ate with one hand while driving. Ordinarily she didn’t approve of eating and driving—or driving and anything that wasn’t driving, come to think of it—but they were on a country road with no one else in sight. And then there was that whole evading-pursuers thing. He didn’t have time to pull over for a leisurely lunch.

  He set the burger in the container and picked up a fry. “Yeah.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Not much.”

  That sounded entirely too cryptic. “So no one’s coming to help us?”

  “Nope.”

  She sighed. “Could you be a little more forthcoming? I have a talk to give in four days and no idea who wants to stop me.”

  “I don’t either.”

  She blew out a breath. “There’s every chance I’m not going to Rome, isn’t there?”

  “I don’t know that yet.” He sighed. “We’re taking this a day at a time, Grace. I didn’t tell them where we are because I don’t want them to know just yet. When we get closer, that will change.” He glanced over at her. “Will it be all that terrible if you don’t get to Rome this time?”

  She shrugged. Would it? Probably not… but she still wanted to be there.

  “I hate crowds, which you already know. But this research is important, and it’s mine, so I want to be the one to talk about it. I don’t want Tim Fitzgerald doing it, or the director—or anyone but me.”

  “Don’t you think this is the kind of thing you shouldn’t tell others how to do?”

  “I’m not going to tell them how to do it—but they’ll figure it out eventually. It’s only a matter of time. That’s why we need to be prepared.”

  He swore. “It’s fucking insane what you people do with test tubes and shit.”

  She tried not to let his words hurt. “I’m a researcher. I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”

  “Why don’t you focus on finding a cure for cancer or something?”

  “My work is important. We need to know how viruses replicate and evolve, and we need to be ready to combat them. Look at what’s going on with Ebola—it’s scary as hell, and we need a better response to the virus itself. It’s people like me who figure out how to fight it.”

  He didn’t speak for a long moment. “When Ben got leukemia, we were all stunned. He was always healthy, athletic, and strong. And then one day he wasn’t. It seems like there ought to be a response to that.”

  Her heart ached. “Childhood leukemia used to have a much higher mortality rate than it does now. Researchers figured out how to combat it with chemotherapy—but it doesn’t have a one hundred percent cure rate. I’m so sorry you lost your brother that way. It’s not fair. I know it’s not.”

  “I’m scared that one day Melissa will call and tell me Cammie’s sick. And there’ll be nothing anyone can do about it.” He huffed a breath. “When I think of her going through what Ben went through—it kills me.”

  Grace reached out and put her hand on his arm, squeezed. “I imagine there are all kinds of things parents worry about, and I have no right to tell you not to, but just because your brother had leukemia doesn’t mean your daughter will.”

  “I know. But when you’ve been through that… My parents survived it, but I don’t know how they did it.”

  “They still had you, Garrett. I’m sure that helped.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. I was a good kid for the most part. And I had a good childhood until Ben got sic
k. After that… it wasn’t bad, just different. Ben was missing from our lives, and you never forget that.”

  “No, I don’t imagine you do.”

  “Life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect.”

  She thought of her sisters and their perfect lives—which she knew logically weren’t entirely perfect—and sighed. If she’d followed the Campbell pattern, she’d be married and have at least one child by now. While simultaneously being at the top of her profession, of course.

  Charity was a highly sought after interior decorator and party planner, Faith was a junior partner in a Charleston law firm, and Hope had designed her own line of signature clothing after a stint working for a top designer in New York City. They were beautiful, married to handsome, successful men, and had cherubic children. Grace was the oddball at family gatherings—quiet, bookish, plain, unmarried. At least when she’d had Jeffrey, she hadn’t felt quite as odd.

  And now he was marrying someone else and they would all know it. God.

  “Did you always want to join the military?”

  “I wanted to play football.”

  Grace felt her jaw drop. But then she could see it. He was a big man, and she could see him in a helmet and pads. “What happened to change that?”

  “I got a girl pregnant, and I did the right thing. Turns out you need money to take care of a family, so I joined the military.”

  “Oh.”

  He shrugged. “I’m actually good at what I do, and football doesn’t last forever. No guarantees of making it to the NFL anyway.”

  “You sound as if you’re okay with your decision.”

  “I wasn’t always. I had a football scholarship, and I had to give it up. But I needed to put food on the table, and the military was the best way to do it.”

  “You like what you do.” It wasn’t a question, because she’d seen him in action. He knew things she didn’t, and he’d remained calm and cool both times someone had come for them. He’d been intense, but sort of ho-hum—like he escaped bad guys in his sleep.

  “Mostly, yeah.”

  She thought of him on the phone with his daughter, of the way he’d told her with quiet intensity that he loved her, and then she’d watched him put his fist through a wall because of things his ex-wife had said. She hadn’t thought of it before now, but if he wasn’t communicating with his guys, then he also wasn’t communicating with his child. His phone was turned off, which meant Cammie couldn’t get through.