Eric (In the Company of Snipers Book 15)

by Irish Winters

  Stroking her wet cheek, he cupped his hand to let enough water pool to soak her skin, then her hair. Adam never had it so good.

  Eric let nature take over. His palms slid down her back until they came to rest on her ass. She closed her eyes, breathing in short, fast bursts, her arms still fastened around his neck. He lifted her body up to mesh with his and impaled her in one smooth, quick thrust. Ah. She was so ready for him to be inside her. So deliciously wet and wanting.

  This parallel universe of Paradise felt supernaturally close. Too close. The temptation of this woman’s delectable body could lead to certain trouble. An unthinking man might be lulled into a precarious situation under the tender ministrations of a woman, but not Eric. He kept one ear alert for the slightest crackle of a branch or footstep, one eye on the shadows around him, and the other on his reason to live. He knew precisely how many footsteps between him and his pistol even as his senses strayed over and into Shea.

  She wiggled, tightening all those wonderful feminine muscles. Pulling him in with every clench, every sigh. He took his time, savoring her mouth, but it happened quicker this time. He honestly hadn’t thought he had it in him, but now that he had it in her... he went up in flames.

  Heat roared up from his thighs and spilled into her. She dug her nails into his shoulders while her butt muscles clenched tight beneath his fingers. Ahh. He stiffened and gave her every last bit of himself again. And again.

  Burying her face under his chin, she breathed, “I love you so much.”

  And Eric honestly believed her because of that one word. Love. We’re going to make it.

  After a gentle scrubbing, he stepped out of the mini-shower a relaxed man. As it was, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, or anything else in the immediate area. The trees beyond her. Every shaft of sunlight and every shadow. Just in case. A former Marine never completely relaxed, not unless he was dead.

  They’d moved farther inside the wall of the crumbling castle, hidden from prying eyes for the time being, but moving in sync. She stretched into her dirty clothes. He did the same, the feeling surreal that they’d so easily picked up where they’d left off two years earlier.

  The birds quieted in the branches overhead. Sunlight filtered through the greenery, casting just enough shade to shelter them. Better yet, the assassin on the motorcycle hadn’t returned. The calm of this hidden glade made it easy to believe their troubles didn’t exist, but Eric tuned his inner sniper to stand guard. Like always. A man didn’t survive months in war zones and suddenly forget to keep track of his surroundings. Hyper-vigilance never faded away.

  Shea caught him looking at her. A rosy hue flushed her neck and cheeks, and he found it incredibly cute after what they’d just done together. “Come sit with me,” he offered once he’d tied his bootlaces and secured his pistols where they belonged.

  She came easily to his side and the best memories kept popping into his male mind. There was a time when he’d been fully dressed and ready for work when she’d cuddled up with him without a stitch on, tempting him. The tease. He’d gone into work late that day. Smiling, but late.

  Eric stifled the heated ‘games back on’ signal from his groin. Pulling Shea down with him to a nearby fallen tree, he made himself as comfortable as he could. “So talk. Why is everyone after you?”

  Shea shifted on his lap to make better eye contact, like that helped. She had to have noticed his feelings for her, but she’d gotten serious.

  “Those three French guys might work for Hugh Carlson. He’s from France, and he was angry when Gordie and Phoenix didn’t accept his job offers. I think he thought he could buy anyone who got in his way.”

  “How so?” Eric circled his arms around her waist, needing her to feel safe enough to tell him everything.

  Shea rubbed her biceps with both hands. “I was in the research lab when it happened. Carlson shoved Gordie. He said he’d have their discovery at all cost. Five million euros, that was what he offered Gordie if he’d come work for him. Can you believe that?”

  “I can. He’s a megalomaniac, intent on power. What is this invention? How are you involved in this whole dynamic energy displacement thing?”

  “I’m not.” She ran a hand over her still wet hair. “That’s what’s so bizarre. Phoenix discovered it, not Gordie or me. Phoenix said it worked off something called bounce back energy. Gordie’s the one who created the amplifier that boosts solar energy to make the invention work better. So why kill either of them? It makes no sense.”

  “Is that what’s on your laptop? This discovery?”

  Her head bobbed. “It’s Phoenix’s laptop, and yes, I think all his other works are on it. Gordie’s too.” She sniffed, fighting tears. “I was there, Eric. I saw what that man did to him. I saw Phoenix... die.”

  Eric gripped her chin and said as sternly as he could muster, “But you’re not there now.” She needed to stay focused to recover from what she’d lived through. He meant to help. “It’s up to you and me to get Berglund’s discovery back to the States and keep it from Carlson and Abdul-Mutaal. That’s our mission. Your mission.”

  “Wh-who?” she asked, wiping a stray tear away with her fingertips.

  Softening his voice, Eric cupped her jaw in his palm. “Abdul-Mutaal. He’s the latest whack-job out of Syria. He and Carlson both want to rule the world, only Abdul uses the sword to do it.”

  “That Abdul guy killed Phoenix and Gordie? Why? They never hurt anyone.”

  “I’m not one-hundred percent sure it’s Abdul-Mutaal. He never said he wanted the laptop or your friends’ invention. Only Finn. That’s another thing.” He smoothed his hands over her shoulders on his way up her neck. Cupping her chin in both palms, he tilted her forehead to his. “That was a gutsy move on your part to steal the SD card while he was still in the lab. I’m damned proud of you.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “I had to do something. I couldn’t let him have the last say, not after what he...” A scary sad whine crept out of her. “I let my friend die.”

  Eric pulled her head under his chin, his palm now flat to her back. “No, you didn’t, Shea. Believe me. There was nothing you could’ve done to save Phoenix. I’m a trained medic, and I couldn’t have helped him even if I’d been there. Believe me. I saw the video. I’m just surprised Abdul-Mutaal was able to get him into the University in that condition.”

  “Classes were out. The World Cup, remember? The Netherlands lost to Germany. It was a huge deal in Amsterdam. Everything was closed for the holiday.”

  That explained a lot. All Eric could do was hold Shea close until she stopped shaking. Time would soften this ugly memory. Eventually.

  She eased out of his arms and shook her head, her gaze far away. “After that guy picked up his camera and left, I ran. I called Gordie and told him what happened. He told me to go to an Internet café, that he’d find me, and we’d run away together. I already had the laptop, but he never showed.” She swallowed hard. “I kept calling his phone, but he didn’t answer, so I went back to our apartment, in case... in case he needed my help. Only I was too late.”

  “You saw the body, didn’t you? You’re the one who threw up.”

  “Yes.” She shuddered as she relived another gruesome memory. “But there’s more.”

  Just as I suspected. Eric leaned in, ready to finally get to the real reason for this miserable op.

  “I’m an alcoholic.”

  That came out of left field. No way. “Since when?”

  “Since I decided to drown my sorrow with booze.” Her chin lifted a notch higher. “I’m not proud of it, and I’m recovered now. I decided I was only killing myself. I mean, I already knew that, but I needed something to, umm, stop the pain, so at first, I drank. A lot.”

  Her voice ended in a whisper. “But one day, I woke up, and this pretty little girl was on her hands and knees, and I was laying in the surf, and she was leaning over me. All I could see was her pudgy nose and two brown eyes and her hair. She kept patting my face, a
nd I thought... I thought she was Cheyenne, only... she wasn’t.”

  Shea stared off into the distance once more. “I thought I’d reached rock bottom when I woke up in Bagani’s hotel room, but the day after, there I was again, falling down drunk and just as stupid. But what if it had been Cheyenne, Eric? What if she’d found some drunk in the surf and it ended up being me?” Shea’s tone rapped into a squeaky whine. “How could I do that to my baby?”

  Eric held his breath along with his heart. She needed to talk.

  “So I cleaned myself up, and I found a job. Eventually, I found a better place to live. I bought a table and chairs. A bed. A computer. Video games numbed my brain, so I played when I wasn’t working. Then I joined a couple gaming chat rooms. I went to Alcoholics Anonymous. I cleaned myself up. I’m sober.”

  He fingered the buttonholes at her neck, his brows furrowed. “Who’s Bagani?”

  Shea blinked, confused for a moment. “Basheer Bagani. He’s…” She shivered. “He’s a Saudi prince. I was drunk out of my mind, and I… I…” Her fingers curled into fists. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Eric. Now I’ve dragged you into this mess. I never should have—”

  He swallowed hard, his chest on fire as if she’d kneed him. Shit. Shea was with another man. What do I do with that?

  “Did you…” His dumb mouth started asking something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. Swallowing when it was nearly impossible. Trying to hold it together. Anger welling. “Did you and he…?”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. It wasn’t like that, Eric. No, no, no!”

  Her adamant declaration helped. He cupped her shoulder to steady his rising need to kill the bastard who’d touched her. “So…” Big breath. “…Bagani…” The asshole. “… took you to his room and you…”

  She nodded. “And I was drunk. When I came to, he’d tied me to his bed. My ankles. My wrists. He had a table beside the bed and all kinds of… stuff. Straps. Cuffs. Knives. Lots of knives.” Shea blew out a huff. “I Googled him, Eric. Some of his girlfriends have disappeared. I think he tortures them and kills them.” A full-on body shudder crawled over her. “Oh, God no. I haven’t been with anyone, not since… you.”

  “But you escaped?” he asked, needing to keep her talking. Bagani would die—very slowly—for touching Shea.

  Her head bobbed. “I ran. When he stepped out on his balcony to take a call, I slipped out of the silk scarves, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could.”

  “Who were you staying with? Was there another…?” God, help me get through this. Eric bit his tongue, but he needed to know. Another man?

  “No, no, no,” she cried, her hands fisted under her chin. “I didn’t want anyone else. This was never because I didn’t love you.”

  Time to change the subject. Got to keep her talking. “What were you drinking?”

  “Anything I could get my hands on. Mostly rum and coke, but no more. I quit. I haven’t had a drink in months. I promise.” She met his gaze, and he believed her. Eric knew alcoholics. He’d lived with one. His father. In no way was she like him. She might have self-medicated, but one—maybe two—years in a drunken stupor did not an alcoholic make. Not in Eric’s book.

  “That was when I met Phoenix and Gordie. And Mother.”

  He’d nearly forgotten. Mother knew Finn. “Did you tell her you were my wife?”

  “I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. I was still, umm, hiding.” She kept chewing her bottom lip. “At first, I thought maybe you’d sent her to find me, but I’m pretty sure she only knows me as Finn.”

  “I did look for you,” Eric told her, his forehead pressed to hers as if he could pour all of his love into her through that mental contact and erase the last two years.

  “You did?” Why should that surprise her?

  “Yes. But you left no paper trail, and you’d left your phone behind. It was as if you’d disappeared.”

  Suddenly, she attacked, wrapping his head against her chest, holding him tightly. “I didn’t think you would look for me,” she cried, trembling. “I’d hurt you so bad, that I thought... I thought…”

  Now it was his turn to wrap her up tight. “Of course I searched for you. Not until Cheyenne’s one year anniversary did I…” He hated to say it. “…quit. But I figured you’d found a way to live without me, and what was the use of looking for you if you didn’t want to come home? If you didn’t want me...” And there he stopped, his heart still broken for all the time they’d lost. God, this was so hard.

  Her tears wet his cheek. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “God, baby, me too,” he murmured, struggling for control. “I wish I’d known where you’d gone.”

  “I wish I’d told you.”

  The past was unfixable, but knowing she’d still loved him, helped. “You used your hacking skills, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice drawn and tired. “That was how you stayed off the grid for so long.”

  Shea took a deep breath. “Yes, but I worked, too, and I paid everyone back. Except Bagani. Then Phoenix and Gordie got grants at the Amsterdam University, but they needed more money. They wanted me to come along—”

  “You mean they wanted Finn.”

  She loosened her hold and tipped back enough to see into his eyes. The corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Yes, Eric. They wanted Finn, not me. You should’ve seen their faces the first time they met him. We’d only chatted online. I think they thought I was a woman, and once I told them I could get the funding they needed—”

  “You funded them by stealing from…?” He let his question hang.

  “Bagani,” she said like it was obvious. “He’s filthy rich, Eric, and he would’ve hurt me. Maybe killed me. Yes, I hacked his accounts to fund two enterprising college students who could actually do some good in the world. That was how I paid your boss, too, and I’m not sorry. Bagani needs to pay.”

  Eric tapped her knee with his index finger. “You do know hacking is illegal.”

  Her bottom lip stuck out. “So’s torturing and r-raping women.”

  Ah, he loved it when she got her dander up. “The FBI will need to talk with you.”

  That took the wind out of her sails. The cutest frown wrinkled her brow. “I might go to jail, huh?”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” Because I will. He set her back to her feet and stood with her. “Just so you know, the Legionnaires were looking for Finn when we left Rosie’s, not some hot chick in a leather jacket. They got stuck with a pile of wet clothes, and... what was Finn made of, anyway? Some kind of foam rubber? Silicone?”

  “That and cotton batting. Styrofoam pellets. A flesh colored Spandex body suit with a big gut and a bigger butt sewn onto it.”

  He grinned at the notion of his lovely lady buried beneath all that ugly. “Don’t say that. Finn was growing on me. Where’d you find the poor guy?”

  “Online.” Her eyes widened. She gulped. Twice. “That’s another thing you need to know.” That tasty tongue of hers moistened her bottom lip with one deliberate stroke. “Mother taught me a few things about online gaming and writing better programs and—”

  He’d already figured as much. “She taught you to hack?”

  “She said I’m a natural, so I... so I...” Shea took a deep breath. “I practiced, but I only hacked Basheer Bagani. He’s an ass, and he’s filthy rich, and… and he owes me.”

  Eric raked a hand over his head. “Did he kill your friends?”

  “No, Bagani’s shorter than that guy with the sword. That might have been him on the bike, but he didn’t kill Phoenix. That other guy’s voice was—odd.” The green in her eyes paled, letting the blue brim with tears. “I’ve been really stupid, Eric. Leaving you. Binge drinking. Hiding all these months. How can you just sit here and forgive me?” She hiccupped, her fingers splayed over her lips. “I don’t get it. All I’ve done is hurt you, but you... but you…”

  Eric cupped her chin and tilted her face upward. He knew her tells, the way her fingertips tapped her lips when
she was nervous. The way she licked them when she was in the mood. Shea wanted another kiss, and he intended to give it to her, but she needed something else at the moment. Settling up with that Bagani ass-hat could wait.

  “Do you know how to stop time?” he asked quietly.

  Of course, she didn’t know where that bizarre question came from. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “We’ve done it before, Shea. It’s easy,” he murmured against those succulent lips. “Let me show you.” His palms claimed the sides of her pretty face while his mouth claimed hers.

  A soft moan lifted from her throat, and sparks ignited. Their tongues tangled and the magical Irish castle faded away, the rest of the world with it. There were no bad guys in that instant of stolen time, only two hearts alive with the same breath. The same love. And yes, the same grief. But time still stopped just as surely as it had every other time they’d lost themselves in each other.

  Eric gave the woman he loved the last piece of his heart, as if it wasn’t already hers, with his kiss. “I’ll love you until the world runs out of time, baby. I always have. I always will.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Aishling came out of nowhere with a soft meow and a bounce. She scrubbed the side of her furry face into Eric’s boot like a long-lost friend. “Where have you been, princess?” he asked as he lifted her into his arms.

  Shea stroked the cat with one long pet, content for the first time in years. “This pretty lady thinks you belong to her.”

  “Not me. We. Here, hold her highness while I call Alex.” Eric handed the cat over. “Don’t let this nosy girl run off again.”

  Shea snuggled the black cat while Eric pulled his cellphone out of his backpack and thumbed the keypad. “Hey, Boss. Yes, I—”

  She tried not to listen, but she could hear Alex’s belligerence all the way from the States, just not enough to make out the precise words.

  Eric’s brow spiked. His jaw clenched. “No, I—” He stilled. “Yes. The client always comes first.” Another tense pause. “No, you hold on. I’ve got—”