Mira needed to get out of here. She needed to feel the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. Normally, her dark computer den soothed her, but not now. “I’m going to step out for a minute, but your phone is ready. I’ll leave it on my desk.”
“Thanks. You’re the best, honey.”
She sure didn’t feel that way right now. She felt sick. Haunted. She’d tried to leave all of that behind and simply not think about it, but sometimes it was harder than others.
She told Bella, “You should delete those photos. They could be dangerous.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Just do it. Please.”
“Sure. Okay. Is there something you want to tell me?”
“No. I’m just feeling a little under the weather. That time of month, you know?” Another lie, but one that was necessary.
The nightmare Mira’s father had caused was over and she wanted to keep it that way.
By the time Lucas led Sloane to the place where he’d lost sight of the patrol, it was pouring rain.
Her body ached, and she was so tired she wasn’t sure how she was going to keep putting one foot in front of the other much longer. Only the mental image of Gina’s smiling face had kept her going this far.
Lucas came to a stop and she ran into his backpack. She lost her balance and grabbed his backpack to keep from toppling over onto the ground.
“We’ll stop here,” he said.
Sloane was too tired to argue. She wasn’t sure exactly when she’d let him take over her mission, but right now she was too wiped out to care.
Her fever was back. She could feel it burning in her eyes and joints.
She slumped to the ground, easing her arms out of her pack. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she felt Lucas’s hand on her face, waking her.
“You’re not getting better.”
“It hasn’t been long enough for the antibiotics to do their job. Just let me have some more aspirin. I’ll be fine.”
He went away. Sloane fell asleep again, and when she woke, she was cold. Even though she knew it was stifling out here, even though the rain was nearly as warm as bathwater, she was still freezing.
Lucas was leaning over her, his face lined with concern. “I pitched the tent so you can get out of the rain.”
If she’d had the energy, she would have kissed him for that. “Thanks.”
She managed to drag herself through the flap of the camouflaged fabric. She stripped off the soggy armored vest and finally felt like she could breathe.
Lucas’s head and shoulders filled the entrance of the tent. “Here’s some aspirin. Drink as much as you can, okay?”
Grateful, she took both the pills and the canteen. “I just need a few minutes for the pills to kick in and I’ll be good to go. The airstrip has to be close now.”
Water dripped from his hair, sliding down his cheek to drip from his chin. “We have to be realistic about this. Neither one of us is in peak fighting form. Soma has at least four different men on patrol. He could have a whole lot more. We’re outnumbered.”
“Their four against our two is not outnumbered, especially when you consider our superior firepower.”
“Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind. If we need help, we ask for it.”
“If we need it, I’ll ask my own people—those I work with at the Edge. I won’t ask for anything from my father.”
Lucas’s mouth tightened in frustration. “You’re just as stubborn as he is. You know that, right?”
Sloane didn’t like the comparison, but she had a feeling that was why Lucas made it. “Let me rest. I’ll do whatever it takes to get Gina home safe.”
“Even if it means calling your father?”
She hated herself for the weakness coursing through her and what that weakness might cost her. “I’ll exhaust all other resources first, but yes. If Gina needs him, I’ll call.”
Lucas gave her a satisfied nod and backed out of the tent, zipping it closed.
Sloane fished the bottle of antibiotics out of her soggy pocket and downed another dose. She really needed to be over this garbage and back in fighting form, because if she did break down and call her father, her life as she knew it would be over. He’d never again let her out of his control. She’d be back to a sheltered life of boredom and inadequacy. Because he’d know she’d failed.
Worse yet, she’d know it, too, and Sloane wasn’t sure she could live with that.
She lay down, curling into a ball to get warm. She knew the aspirin would help. She just had to get through the next few minutes of bone-jarring shivers.
The tent flap opened. Lucas’s head and shoulders pushed inside. “The whole tent is shaking,” he said.
“I’m sorry. It’ll pass in a minute.”
“Scoot over,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because you’re cold, we’re partners, and I’m going to help. Now, scoot over.”
Sloane was too wrung out to argue. She moved to one side of the tiny space, putting her back to him. When he took off his vest, she knew what he was going to do. She also knew she wasn’t going to turn down the warmth of another human right now. Not even if he were Soma himself.
He curled his big body around hers, sliding one arm under her cheek for a pillow and the other over her waist. Their wet clothes conducted his body heat into her, making her groan. He didn’t talk. He didn’t tell her how stupid she was for not leaving Gina’s rescue to someone else. He stayed silent, with only the steady, even sound of his breathing as it brushed past her ear.
She dozed, and when she woke the shivering had stopped and she was blissfully warm. It was time to release Lucas from his obligations, but she couldn’t bring herself to drive him away quite yet. She felt too good cradled inside his embrace like this. She could almost pretend that everything was okay, and she didn’t want that to end.
“How long was I asleep?” she asked.
“Only a few minutes. Not long enough.”
“I know. I also know that this is a serious case of bad timing.”
His voice was low and quiet, laced with concern. “How do you feel?”
“Decent. Not great, but better than last night’s round of shivering.”
“You should have woken me.”
Because she needed to rest, or because he could have held her? She almost asked the question, but couldn’t quite get it out. “I promise to take a whole week off once we get home.”
She felt him tense behind her and turned inside his embrace so she could look at him. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m just not exactly looking forward to going home.”
“Why not?”
“My folks run a restaurant. I worked there every day growing up and the idea of going back turns my stomach.”
“You’re not close to them?”
“No. We’re close. I just don’t want to spend my life doing a job I hate, but I also can’t face letting them down, you know?”
“Letting them down? How?”
His mouth flattened and he looked at the wall of the tent as if ashamed. “They need me to take over so they can retire. They deserve their retirement. They’ve worked hard for it. I can’t tell them no. Once this job is done, I have to go back.”
“If you don’t want the restaurant, why don’t they sell it?”
“They can’t imagine me not wanting to follow in their footsteps. I don’t have the heart to break it to them. It’s hard not living up to your parents’ expectations.”
Sloane let out a flat laugh. “Don’t I know it. At least your parents claimed you. I was a dirty little secret kept hidden at boarding school so no one would know the great general had mistakenly sired a girl.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t like that.”
“That’s because you’re under his spell. Not that I blame you. The man has way too much influence and charm. Everyone around him worships him.”
“He’s a good man,” said Lucas, clearly be
lieving every word.
“No, he’s good at appearing like he’s a good man, but I know better. He didn’t even go to his own wife’s funeral. That’s not something a good man does.”
“I’m sure he had a reason.”
She shook her head in futility. “It doesn’t matter what I say. It never has. You and the other men who’ve worked for him will always take his side.”
“I’m not taking sides. I’m just trying to make sense of what you’re saying in the context of what I know about the general.”
“That’s just it. There’s no sense to be made. If I’d been born a male, it would have been different. He probably would have taken me under his wing. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t live up to whatever mythical standards would turn me from an embarrassment into a daughter he could be proud of. At some point along the way, I simply stopped trying.”
She’d wanted to stop caring, too, but she hadn’t managed that feat yet. Maybe one day she’d find a way to look at herself without the shadow of failure hanging over her, but that day had not yet come. She wasn’t good enough for her father, but she was one of Bella’s best mercenaries, and that was going to have to suffice.
“He worries about you,” said Lucas. “That’s why he sent me.”
“He only worries because he thinks I can’t take care of myself—because I’m somehow lacking.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think he cares enough to worry.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he used to say that when I was in boarding school and kept sneaking out with Gina to meet boys. He’d storm into the school, give me hell, shouting how much he cared and how he couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to me. I bought that line when I was younger, but it rang pretty hollow after he forgot a few birthdays.”
Lucas frowned as if trying to make sense of her words. “That doesn’t sound like the man I know.”
“Of course not. You see his public face—the one he wants you to see. Me, I got the real man, and let me tell you, the two are not the same.”
“So how long has it been since you saw him?”
“Five years. I thought he’d show up for Mom’s funeral three years ago, but he was a no-show. As usual.” Sloane could still remember delaying the service for more than an hour, thinking he was just running late. She’d held out hope as long as she could, and as soon as they laid her mother’s body in the ground, Sloane knew she was never again going to have anything to do with the man who’d fathered her.
“Did he ever tell you why he wasn’t there?”
“Not a single word. Not a note or an e-mail. Nothing. Until you showed up. You were the first contact with him I’ve had in five years.”
“No wonder you don’t like me.”
“Didn’t,” she said, correcting him.
“What?”
“Didn’t like you. Right now, like this, I don’t mind you nearly so much. You’re kinda handy.”
He smiled. “That’s good to know. Very fair of you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to shoot the messenger, right?”
“I wish you’d thought of that before you punched me. I’m still bruised.”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. It wasn’t very nice of me.”
“You could kiss it and make it better.”
And just like that, Sloane wanted to. Here, in his arms, it was easy to forget that he had been sent by her father, that he still didn’t believe her about the general. It was easy to forget everything except the warmth of his body and the rain pattering against the tent. She hadn’t exactly been nice to him, and yet here he was, caring enough about her to keep her warm. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to him, but to Sloane, it was.
She swallowed, trying to distract herself from wanting to press her lips against his cheek, or mouth, or neck. His neck was closest. She could stretch an inch or two and close the distance, taste his skin. “I don’t kiss a man if he’s involved. Do you have a girlfriend?”
He gave her a slow, bone-melting smile. “Nope. But if I did, she sure wouldn’t like what I’m thinking right now.”
She wasn’t going to ask. Not even with an invitation like that. But then her mouth opened and she said, “What?”
His fingers splayed against her back and slid up her spine, under her thin cotton shirt. The front of her shirt dragged up, along for the ride, snagging beneath her breasts. The feel of his work-roughened hands on her bare skin was almost too much sensation for her to handle. Her toes curled in her boots and a shiver coursed through her that had nothing to do with fever. His fingers slid up into her hair and he held her still while he leaned forward.
She watched his mouth as he got closer, knowing she shouldn’t want this nearly as much as she did. She wasn’t a woman easily swayed by a handsome face and a killer body. She didn’t want to feel anything for a man who idolized her father, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him.
His lips touched hers, and when she didn’t pull away, he increased the pressure, letting her feel him for real. He took his time, keeping things light until she was shaking with a need for more. His tongue fluttered across her bottom lip before disappearing. A groan vibrated his chest.
Sloane’s breathing sped until she was dizzy. He wasn’t giving her what she needed. Not even close.
She rolled him onto his back, held his face in her hands, and kissed him deep—open mouths, sliding tongues, nipping teeth. She didn’t even care if she breathed anymore as long as she got her fill of his mouth.
He eased her shoulders back, breaking contact. She was panting, but she didn’t care. His face had darkened along with his eyes, and in the dim confines of the tent, the rest of the world simply fell away.
Sloane wanted him. All of him. Right now. And she was used to getting what she wanted.
She went for his belt, telling him in no uncertain terms what she had in mind. Her hand brushed against his straining erection, making him suck in a breath.
This was wrong and out of control, but she didn’t care. Her body was hot and eager, and after all that emotional talk, she needed something to ease the pressure inside of her. She felt raw and exposed and wanted him to be right there with her—completely exposed.
She’d worked the leather free when his hands captured hers, stopping her.
“What?” she asked. “I know you want this. You’re way too hard to pretend otherwise.”
He closed his eyes, but kept a tight hold on her hands. “I want it more than you know. But now is not the time. It’s too dangerous. You’re sick. We’re out in the open. A patrol could come by at any minute. We can’t.” He said that last part like it hurt.
Sloane went cold as his words sank in. He was right. One kiss and she’d lost her head. Lucas Ramsey was potent stuff.
She would try not to forget again.
Sloane moved off of him and straightened her clothes. “I’m sorry. I should have been thinking.”
“I’m kind of glad you weren’t,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made a woman lose her head like that.”
Clearly, he hung out with too many brain-dead women, because no woman in her right mind would turn down a treat like Lucas.
He rebuckled his belt, and she couldn’t stop herself from watching his strong hands move, or from staring at the mouthwatering bulge in his pants. If they got out of this in one piece, she was going to have to convince him to show her what she was missing.
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”
He lifted her chin, pulling her eyes away from his package. “Hardly. Any more compliments from you and I’ll forget my good intentions.”
Part of her was wishing he would. She’d probably already have him inside her by now, which was enough of a thrill to keep her warm for a good, long while.
“Thank you,” she told him, “for stopping me. I should have known better.”
He gave her a playful wink. “I’m glad you didn’t. I’ve been wondering what you
would taste like from the moment I saw you in that ballroom.”
“And?” she asked before she thought better of it. “How do I taste?”
“Good enough that I don’t think I’m going forget about it anytime soon. Good enough that when we get back to civilization, I plan on convincing you to kiss me again. And next time, we won’t have to stop.”
He slipped out of the tent, leaving Sloane shaken and eager to see if he meant what he said.
She hadn’t planned to like him, but her plans were being blown to hell one little bit at a time. Any other man would have either left her to suffer on her own, or, if he had come into the tent, he wouldn’t have stopped her advances. The fact that Lucas did stop her advances changed the way she saw him. Sure, he admired her father, but a lot of people did. That didn’t mean Lucas was like him.
For the first time, she was willing to give Lucas a chance. She wasn’t completely convinced it wouldn’t end in a fiery ball of chaos, but if he kissed her like that again, she was convinced it would be worth the cleanup efforts afterward.
Sloane pulled herself together, then left the relative comfort of the tent. Time to suck it up and get moving. The sooner they got Gina, the sooner she could see if Lucas was a man of his word, or if this thing between them would evaporate once they were out of danger.
Danger was one hell of an aphrodisiac. Chances were he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her as soon as he once again had his choice of women. Sloane wasn’t exactly the most genteel, ladylike person on the face of the planet. And she sure as hell wasn’t biddable. For most men, she was simply too much trouble—which worked for her. She felt the same way about most men.
It was still raining. He had a tarp draped over him as he ate one of the MREs she’d packed. When he saw her emerge, he lifted the tarp to make room for her to sit beside him.
She gladly accepted the offer and sat as close to him as she dared. Heat seemed to roll off of him, sinking into her aching body and driving away the chill of the rain soaking through her clothes.
He offered her a bite of something she couldn’t name. “Hungry?”
Sloane opened her mouth and let him feed her the lukewarm bite. It was something Italian, but beyond that, she couldn’t recognize it. Whatever. It was calories and that was all that mattered.
Living on the Edge Page 11
