by Nico Rosso
Silvia took it all in, sometimes shocked, other times calculating. She was smart and stayed at speed. She also seemed to read between the facts and assessed April and James sitting next to each other. Her perceptive gaze dissected and observed, but she didn’t interrupt to ask any personal questions. James saw that she wanted to, though.
“Holy shit.” Silvia leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. “Serious business. I’ll bet you guys could use a drink.”
April answered first. “You know me. I’m useless after a sip. Another time.”
“Thank you, but not while I’m working.” James took a gulp of the lemonade instead.
Silvia nodded. “Another time.” She refilled his glass. “Military?”
“SAS.” There was no need to hide these facts. “Retired.”
“So you know your business.” If she was impressed, she didn’t show it.
He was never one to boast. “I can close a deal.”
April was more emphatic. “He’s very good at this.”
“Glad to know.” Silvia still didn’t seem convinced. “Because it’s not just a job.”
He met her pointed gaze. “No, it isn’t.” He finished his plate of food and stood to refill it, but Silvia was quick to take it from his hand.
“What can I get you?”
“I can handle it. You don’t need to.” The hospitality was extraordinary, but he wasn’t there to be served.
“I know you can handle it.” Silvia was already walking to the kitchen. “I just don’t want you tracking any more mud than necessary.”
“Damn.” He’d forgotten about the mud on his boots and pants. “Sorry.”
She threw over her shoulder, “De nada. That’s what washing machines are for.”
He sat back down and ate the new food when it arrived. Silvia and April cleared their plates, then brought a laptop to the table and huddled around it. They scoured through every piece of information they could find on the assassinated men in El Paso, but found no leads or details beyond the basic story. The authorities were investigating and were at the point where they were asking the public for help. James knew the local cops wouldn’t find a trace. The hitters were professionals. The only link between the victims and the killers were James and April and the hackers.
He kept that knowledge to himself. April knew what he was and didn’t judge him. Silvia might. The two women continued their search, targeting everything from the CPA firm in Albuquerque to the school in Phoenix. No patterns or direct connections emerged. Silvia didn’t dig into what security firm he worked for, or who his original client was. If she didn’t believe the story, she trusted April to have her reasons for lying.
James bussed his plate while they were busy, careful not to dislodge too much caked mud from his legs. On the way back into the dining room, a shadow slipped into his peripheral vision with the sound of soft movement. His combat instinct triggered in a flash of adrenaline. He spun toward the inky shape and pulled his knife, sure to be between the attacker and April.
“Don’t!” Silvia shouted.
James faced off with a black cat on a side table. Its narrow yellow eyes and predatory stance inspired a primal fight-or-flight urge in James. He glared back at the animal and didn’t give ground.
Silvia stood and approached cautiously. “Don’t mess with my cat.”
James lowered the knife but kept it in his hand. “She snuck up on me.”
“He’s supposed to.” She edged in front of James and went to the cat. “He does that to everyone.” She put her hand out to the cat, who kept one eye on James as he bumped her palm with his head.
“Nice knife.” April was on her feet, alert to the danger that had just passed.
He sheathed the blade behind him. “Italian.” It was a good thing he’d had the sense not to draw his pistol in this house full of friendlies.
Silvia petted the cat, and the beast continued to rub against her hand. When James stepped closer, the animal recoiled.
“He was feral and eventually moved in.” Silvia gave the cat a respectful distance. “You have to let Diablo come to you.”
“I get that.” He stepped away. A silent truce arose between him and Diablo. The cat receded into the shadows he’d come from and completely disappeared from view.
April approached Silvia. “Can we wash up?”
“Of course.” The woman waved them to a hallway that stretched to the back of the house. James picked up the carry-on and followed. Silvia pointed in an open doorway. “Guest room.” James put the bag in there and came out to find April and Silvia standing at an open linen closet, selecting towels. “Bathroom on the other side of the laundry.” The washer and dryer stood in a nook in the hallway. Silvia tossed him a somewhat ragged towel. “Use this for the mud. I have a stiff brush for your boots.”
“Cheers.” He took the towel to the guest room.
April trailed in after him with a nicer-looking towel. “For the shower.” She placed it on the immaculately made bed. “We’ll throw your pants in the laundry.”
He placed the weathered towel on the ground and stood on it to take off his boots, but stopped. “I don’t have another pair to wear.”
April’s assessing gaze went from his feet to his face, making him feel very naked in front of her. Her eyes flared with the need she’d shown in the car. She cleared her throat and appeared to collect herself before leaning back into the hallway to ask, “Do you have a spare pair of pants?”
Silvia appeared in the doorway. “Nothing that’ll fit.” She smiled. “I burn all my victims’ clothes.”
April groaned and left the room, pushing her friend as she went and throwing back to James, “Just hand the pants out, and I’ll take care of them.”
She closed the door, forcing James to raise his voice. “I can do my own blasted laundry.”
April must’ve been close to the door and murmured, “I don’t want a pantsless man walking around my friend’s house.”
Silvia mumbled something about it not being the first time, making April chuckle. James removed his boots and pants, careful to keep the dried mud within the borders of the old towel. He also shucked his jacket and had to take off the shoulder holster to pull off the admittedly stale T-shirt. He balled everything up and kept the holstered pistol in one hand as he passed the clothes through the barely cracked door.
April retrieved the clothes and called for the luggage too. He rolled it to her, blocking himself with the door, and it disappeared into the hallway. A stiff utility brush was pressed into his palm in return. He wound the holster back around his shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Bloody hell.” The strangest position he’d ever been in during a mission. Wearing nothing but his briefs and sidearm, brushing the mud from his boots in a guest room decorated with black-and-white photos of roses. The woman he needed to guard was on the other side of the door, but he could hear enough of the surroundings to be aware of any trouble. That wasn’t the only reason he wanted April in the room with him. The relative safety of Silvia’s house allowed his needs to surface. His exposed skin burned for her cool fingers. He wondered if the taste of lemonade remained on her mouth. For the first time, being protected felt very dangerous.
Chapter Eleven
“This is fucking weird.” April loaded James’s dirty clothes, along with hers from the luggage, into the washing machine.
“You sure you’re okay?” Silvia remained close and lowered her voice for just the two of them.
“How should I know? I don’t have a reference anymore.” Doing the laundry felt like way too domestic a task in the midst of these insane circumstances. It was also incredibly personal to mingle hers and James’s clothing together.
She closed the machine. Silvia spoke a little louder over the initial rush of water. “Do yo
u want to sleep in my room with me?”
April was very aware that James was just a few feet away behind a closed, but unlocked, door. Barely wearing any clothes. As soon as he’d handed over his pants and shirt, she’d been tormented with the question of what his naked body looked like. She’d felt the lean muscles, seen how they moved him, but to actually see them, or touch his exposed skin, made her breath rush faster.
“I feel...safer with him.” Was that the complete truth? “We’ve been together through all this. He’s prepared for this kind of thing.”
Her friend caught on one word. “Together?”
“Not like that.” But there was the kiss. The potential for more continued to echo.
Silvia nodded. “You can if you want to.” She placed her hand on April’s arm. “No one’s judging you.”
“Thanks.” The harshest judgment came from within. “I don’t know.”
Silvia picked up April’s fresh towel and handed it to her. “I have a gun. Do you want it?”
“I’m not trained to deal with pressure situations.” April waved off the idea. “I’d be more dangerous than helpful with it.”
“Soap and shampoo are in the shower. Anything else you need?” Silvia leaned toward the stairs that led to the master suite on the second floor.
April didn’t have the answer. “Thanks for everything, babe.”
“Any time, babe.” Silvia smiled warmly and added, “Anything.” She departed upstairs.
April collected clean clothes and toiletries from her carry-on and took them into the bathroom. The shower wasn’t hot enough to loosen the muscles that knotted at the base of her neck. She soaped her skin and thought about James. She tried to ignore the fantasy, but it only grew stronger when she wondered what his hands would feel like on her slick body. The last stages of the shower were rushed, and she shut it down to dry off. She dressed for sleep, put her glasses on and exited the bathroom to find the washing machine nearing the end of its cycle.
The door to the guest room was ajar, but there were no lights on inside. She approached cautiously. “James?”
He spoke from the shadows inside. “The shower and the washing machine were running. I opened the door to hear better.”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m... I’m only wearing a towel.”
She swallowed hard. “The shower’s all yours.”
“Okay.” He warned, “Incoming.”
She considered taking off her glasses but determined she couldn’t stand to miss the beautiful details. It was the best decision. James moved quickly into the hall. His dusky skin highlighted the curves and angles of his defined muscles. The shoulder holster he still wore framed his chest and back perfectly. In a blur, he was in the bathroom and the door closed.
It was the worst decision. She wanted to move with him, to feel how the length of his body fit against the curves of hers. It wasn’t the steamy air from the shower that made her head spin. She busied herself with moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer, but saw how her hands trembled. He was so close. So possible. The shower ran and she could imagine more of his details now that she’d seen him with his shirt off.
Was Silvia right? Could April simply take what she wanted? Nothing was simple.
The kiss had told her that the connection was real. It had set off a need that persisted and persisted. The more she tried to suppress it, the stronger it grew. She couldn’t hide from it anymore. She didn’t want to. She had to know what it was to live out a desire.
She went into the bedroom. The ajar door put a stripe of light across the floor and up a wall. James’s boots were relatively clean and stowed on the spare towel in a far corner. The only other trace of him was the rumpled impression on the edge of the bed where he’d sat. She seated herself next to it and waited. A tremble moved through her, peaking at the top of her breaths.
James’s shower was quick and he was soon padding back to the room. He peeked into the bedroom. “Can I grab my clothes?”
“You can come in,” she told him. The air heated with his presence; his body must’ve still been warm from the shower. Or it was her who produced the new fire, blushing with her boldness. “Close the door.”
He did, and as the last of the hall light blinked across him, she glimpsed his naked chest and the holstered gun in his hand. “Is everything alright?”
The shutters were closed over the single window in the room. Her eyes adjusted and collected what light seeped around the edges. His shape emerged. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, wearing only a towel. He moved closer with concern.
“Yes.” He was close enough to touch, but she couldn’t reach for him yet. Nerves pounded in her. Her heart raced on excitement tightened with fear. “Can you sit? Without the gun.”
He placed the holster on the floor by the corner of the bed and sat near it. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about what it is.” She slid her hand across the foot of the bed toward him. “But I don’t want to ignore it.”
“April, it seemed like we...” His words stopped and he grew still. His hand extended out and rested on top of hers. The connection shocked her. She’d tried to deny their attraction and ignore their bond. But there it was, like a common pulse they shared.
She turned her hand over to grip his, hard to stop the trembling. “I can’t tell you to kiss me.”
She’d never heard his voice so low, rumbling from his chest. “I won’t take what you’re not willing to give.”
“I can’t tell you to do everything.” She moved closer to him. “I have to feel what you need.”
He pulled his hand out from under hers. The fear and desire that had been rushing through her stumbled, leaving her without equilibrium. Had she been too bold? Asked too much of him? Maybe his need didn’t match hers. She choked back a gulp of embarrassment. James turned toward her and held her by the shoulders. Her tumult fell into place again, drawing her closer to him. He leaned in, bringing their faces close. The dark erased most of his features, but she saw the serious depth in his eyes.
James kissed her. His hesitation was gone, replaced by undisguised hunger. He gripped her tighter, drew her near. His mouth opened, inviting her into his need. Instinct moved her without thought. She teased her tongue out, and he slid his against hers. But her mind turned, thoughts of doubt clouding the sensations. She reached forward, still shaking and hoping to share his confidence. His muscles jumped as her hands smoothed across his ribs. Both of them were learning.
The kiss drove more heat through her. Touching his bare skin took her breath. Her days had been so planned and regular. With his vitality so close, she had to shake out her fear and live without thinking. The two of them locked together. He pressed her against his chest. She wore only a T-shirt, and the fabric allowed her breasts to rub against his firm ridges. Her nipples tightened, seeking more sensation.
James eased her deeper onto the bed and turned to face her fully. His hands skimmed across her back. She arched with the warm and careful touch. The pleasure carried an edge of newness. Her skin and muscles had been for workouts and daily necessity. She didn’t want to think about how long since this kind of intimacy. Too much of that reflection would take her away from the moment. She needed to experience all the sensations James surrounded her with.
His fingers traced the hem of her shirt and found the flesh of her waist. A shiver shook her again, and he drew his hands away. The kiss parted. Was the moment so fragile that this could shatter it?
She whispered, “I’ll stop you if I have to.” She took his hands and placed them on her hips. His hold grew tighter again. “I haven’t...been...” How could she say it? She didn’t even know where they were headed.
“I understand.” His voice rumbled on the side of her neck.
“Go slow.” She stroked he
r fingers down his cheek. “But don’t stop.”
He pressed into her touch. She didn’t know how long it had been for him. A man with his face and physique and confidence, not to mention his accent, wouldn’t have too much trouble finding a hookup. But the way he sighed out when she scratched lightly through his tight beard, it seemed that he was as starving as she.
His fingers resumed their search around her waist. Like he was drawing a new map, illuminating places she’d forgotten. Her breath rushed and her voice caught in her throat when he ran a broad palm up her back and paused between her shoulder blades. He kissed the side of her neck, freeing her voice in a moan that rocked her. She couldn’t worry if Silvia heard her. There was too much distance between the floors. And the worries of the outside world had held April back for too long.
James’s other hand caressed down between her breasts. Her T-shirt moved with him, tugging across her sensitive nipples and making them blaze for more. He grew more purposeful and his muscles tightened against her. She leaned into him as he kissed her throat. Delicate skin burst alive with giddy sparks. She nearly shrunk away, too sensitive, but breathed and found herself relishing the heightened awareness. And the trust she’d given him.
His palm slid over her breast. She reached out and clutched his shoulder for support. His breath rushed and rumbled in his chest. He surged closer, incredibly potent but careful enough to temper his strength for her. Small circles with his hand drew her nipple to a firmer point. The blaze of sensation shot down between her legs, where she felt herself growing wet.
