Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8)

by Lynn Raye Harris

  He snorted. They stood there in silence. Ryan kept stroking her hair, and she found herself leaning into his touch.

  “I missed you,” she said past the sudden lump in her throat. His hand stilled and she wished she could bite her tongue and call the words back.

  But then he stroked her hair again and she sighed.

  “I missed your texts,” he said, and she knew he meant he missed her too. “And your calls.”

  “Ha, I doubt you missed all of it. I was a mess half the time.”

  “You’d been through a lot.”

  “I wasn’t your responsibility, but you were always there…” She pulled in a breath. “I’ve always wanted to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “Why? Why did you keep answering your phone when it was me? Why did you spend all that time talking to me and listening to me?”

  He took her by the shoulders and guided her back toward the bed. She was confused at first, but he pulled the sheet back and held it for her. She got in, her heart pounding, wondering what he would do next.

  But all he did was cover her. Then he holstered the gun and lay back down on the floor. She waited patiently, hoping he would answer but beginning to think he wouldn’t. Still, it was a question she’d had for so long, a question she’d been afraid to ask.

  Now that she had, she very much wanted to know the answer.

  “I told you my parents were divorced,” he said. “But I didn’t tell you that my mother was bipolar. She didn’t always take her meds the way she should. When she was on them, she was great. When she was off… Well, she was dangerous, unpredictable. She had an addictive personality, and she got into drugs.”

  Emily’s heart pinched tight. She knew what it was like to rely on narcotics to make yourself feel better, and she knew what it was like to disappoint those who loved you.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t remind me of her, Emily, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re strong. She wasn’t. But I guess I always thought maybe if I’d been there for her, if I’d listened and tried to help, maybe I could have made a difference.” He sighed. “I know that’s not true, by the way. I was a child. Maybe if I’d been older… Anyway, when I met you, it was clear you needed someone to listen, someone who wouldn’t judge or tell you that you were wrong. I know Victoria loves you, but she was too emotionally invested to listen objectively. I figured I wasn’t, so I was perfect for what you needed.”

  Hearing that he wasn’t emotionally invested wasn’t quite what she’d hoped to hear. In fact, it made her heart throb with pain.

  “You were great, Ry. Probably too great, really. I took advantage of your willingness to listen.”

  And fell in love with you. Those were the words that hung unspoken between them. She wouldn’t say them. They were too hard, too fragile—and she didn’t know how she’d handle the inevitable rejection of those words.

  Oh, he’d be kind about it. But he would crush her silly dreams at a time when she really couldn’t brush it off so easily.

  “You didn’t take advantage,” he said. “I was glad I could be there for you.”

  “Even if it meant I browbeat you into sleeping with me?” She tried to make it sound humorous, but she was afraid she sounded desperate for validation instead.

  “Do you really think that’s what happened, Emily?”

  “I, uh, well, I didn’t leave you much choice.”

  “Sugar, I always had a choice. I chose the option I wanted the most.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SHE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING AND Ryan shifted on the floor. He was used to hard surfaces, used to deprivation and discomfort in the field. He wasn’t used to lying on a floor while the woman he wanted lay on a bed only inches away. His body throbbed with heat and need, the same as it had that night in his apartment.

  There’d never been a question, not really, of what he would do when faced with Emily’s request that he kiss her and make love to her. He’d been half hoping for it for months, and while he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do it, that he would be noble and self-sacrificing when and if she ever asked, he’d been doomed to fail from the very beginning.

  There was something about Emily. Something that drew him like a plant stretching toward the sun. He could no more walk away from her than he could stop breathing on command.

  And that scared him. He wasn’t the sort of man to need anyone. He’d learned not to need when he’d been a motherless kid. His father was great, gave him everything a father should—and then some—because the man had the patience of Job. But the other kids had mothers, and he didn’t. He knew what a difference that made in their lives, and he’d wanted the same for himself.

  Until one day he didn’t. Until he’d figured out how to stop needing what he didn’t have.

  But Emily… Jesus, Emily. Did he need her? Or just want her so badly he couldn’t think beyond satisfying a craving?

  He didn’t know, but he knew that lying here on her floor wasn’t good enough. At the same time, if it was all he could have, then it was perfect. Just being near her. Hearing her breathe. Knowing that her heart beat and that a tiny heart inside her body echoed it. A tiny heart that was half him.

  “It’s sweet of you to say I didn’t coerce you,” she finally said, “but I think we both know the truth.”

  He almost rolled his eyes. “Emily, honest to God, do you really think a little bitty thing like you could coerce me into doing anything I didn’t want to do? Seriously?”

  “You’re a man. You’ll do anything for sex.”

  He snorted. “Almost anything. But sugar, I can control myself when presented with a delectable female body. I’m not a slave to my dick.”

  “I played on your feelings of responsibility. I told you I was afraid I’d never be able to be with anyone else.”

  “Yeah, you did. Even then, I could have refused—I didn’t want to, Emily. I wanted you. I’d wanted you for months.”

  He heard her suck in a breath. “I don’t understand why. I was a mess.”

  “Not to me, you weren’t.”

  To him, she’d been sweet and vulnerable and achingly, forbiddenly beautiful. He’d been fascinated. Drawn to her. Unable to walk away when he should. She’d been a flame, and he’d been the moth attracted to the flame even though he knew he could get burned.

  “You don’t make any sense sometimes,” she said, her voice so quiet in the darkness.

  “You can’t accept that you’re someone I could want, can you? Why is that, Emily?”

  It made his chest ache that she could be so uncertain, so blindly stubborn to the truth.

  “It’s not the physical wanting, Ryan. I get that part…” She sighed. “There’s not much I haven’t told you about myself… but when I was fifteen, I let a much older man convince me that I was everything to him. It was a lie, as you might imagine, and when Victoria and I were taken from that foster home and sent to another, I thought he’d come for me. That I meant something to him. But of course I didn’t. And then there was Zaran… You already know how my relationship with him ended. I think I’m just not someone who inspires commitment—that’s what I worry about.”

  Ryan sat up, his gut churning with anger. He reached for her hand in the darkness, clasped it. “The man who took advantage of you when you were fifteen was a predator. He should have been arrested and charged.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I know that now. At fifteen, I was desperately in love—and I thought he was too. He was twenty-five, and I thought he was sophisticated. I liked the attention—craved it, actually. When it turned sexual, I didn’t feel like I was abused or taken advantage of. I felt special, grown-up. But it didn’t last, and when he didn’t come for me, I was devastated.” She snorted. “As only a teenager in love can be, you know?”

  “I’m sorry, Emily.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it.”

  “Just because some asshole sexual predator took advantage of your feelings, and j
ust because Zaran lost his mind, doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Tell me you understand that.”

  “I… I don’t know. Honestly, I wonder. Except for my sister, I’ve been alone my whole life. The times I thought I wasn’t, the times I thought I’d found someone who would love me for who I am, I was wrong. And with Zaran…”

  He knew what she didn’t say. She’d put a knife into Zaran’s gut in order to survive, and that wasn’t an easy thing to live with, especially since she’d once loved him. Ryan climbed onto the bed and put his arms around her. She turned and burrowed into his chest, her fingers resting on his skin. Burning into him like hot steel even while her words chilled him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, honey. You’re an amazing woman. A strong woman. And I care about you.” He couldn’t say love. He didn’t know what that felt like—but he knew what caring felt like. And he knew that he did. “I care about our baby. Nothing you do or don’t do can change that.”

  She laughed softly. “Oh, Ryan, you’re the sweetest thing. But you don’t really know that. You don’t know how you’d feel if you had to leave HOT because of me.”

  “Goddammit, Emily.” He tipped her chin up in the darkness. He could see her face in the dim light coming from outside, the glitter of her eyes. Her breathing was quick, and he knew her pulse must be racing. “Don’t you understand that people are more important than things? HOT is a thing. If I have to leave, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. I’ll still have the Army—and if I don’t, if they ask me to leave that too, I’ll find something to do. I have skills.”

  It hit him then that the skills he had would be perfect for Ian Black’s outfit. Not that he wanted to work for Black. Hell, maybe he’d start his own mercenary security outfit. There was no shortage of need for that kind of thing in the world.

  “I don’t want you to end up hating me.” Her voice was a whisper, but he could hear the wealth of pain in it. Pain caused by her childhood and by her asshole husband who’d blamed her for not being able to get pregnant. If Zaran bin Yusuf weren’t already dead, Ryan would take great pleasure in putting him six feet under.

  “I’m not going to hate you, honey.”

  Her fingers curled against his chest. “You don’t know that. I never thought Zaran would change, but he did.”

  “We all change.” In the back of his mind, he thought of his mother, of her sickness. Yeah, he’d wondered if that sickness would affect him, but he’d made it this far in life without any signs of it, so he figured he was going to be okay. “But that kind of change—it wasn’t normal, Emily. You know it wasn’t.”

  They’d talked about it before, about how Zaran had seemed ordinary at first, about how he’d helped Emily get clean and seemed to worship her. But when he’d gotten involved with radicals, he’d changed, become obsessed with his own grandeur. The truth was that he’d been a narcissist, and his attention on Emily at first, his insistence on helping her get clean, was simply a way of controlling her. He’d used her as a reflection of himself—a look what I did moment he could trot out for others as an example of how wonderful he was. It had never been about helping Emily. It had been about glorifying himself.

  “You’re right… but it still bothers me.”

  “You’d be inhuman if it didn’t.”

  “I know you care, Ryan. And I… I care about you. But you have to understand why I can’t just hand my life over and hope for the best.”

  He did understand. He didn’t like it, but he got it. He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his ankles, pulling her more securely against his body. She lay against him, one arm over his middle. She felt good there. Right.

  He didn’t know what else to say to her, how to convince her he wasn’t giving up on her. So he feathered his lips over her forehead and stroked her hair off her cheek.

  “Go to sleep, Emily. I’ve got you.”

  *

  It was still dark when Emily awoke. She was crowded in the bed and she didn’t understand why at first. But then she realized her cheek lay against warm skin and her arm was slung across a hard body.

  Ryan’s body. He lay beside her, his chest rising and falling evenly. She peered up at him, but his eyes remained closed. She shifted slightly and instantly knew what had woken her up.

  She had to pee. Damn.

  She liked lying in Ryan’s arms, his warm body next to hers, his breathing even and steady. She was comforted by it and she didn’t want to move.

  But she had to, or she’d make this night a memorable one for them both. Emily levered herself up carefully, intending to somehow climb over him and escape to the bathroom without waking him.

  “Where are you going?” His voice was gravelly as he shifted in the bed.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  He swung his legs over the edge to make room for her, and she clambered out of bed and onto the floor.

  “Promise you aren’t running away, Emily.”

  “I’m wearing a T-shirt and panties. I’m not running away.”

  “A T-shirt and panties? Not only did I not need to hear that, but I also think you should put on some clothes before you go out in the hall.”

  “I have a robe.” She grabbed the robe from where she’d slung it over the foot of the bed and slipped it on.

  “It’s not a short robe, right? Nothing sexy?”

  “It’s knee-length and no, I don’t think it’s sexy. I also don’t think it’s any of your business.” She pretended to be annoyed, but really she was kind of amused. It was the middle of the night, she was pregnant and had to pee, and he was worried about her being sexy as she walked down the hall.

  “Need me to come with you?”

  “Like you have every night since I’ve been here, right?”

  “No need to get testy.”

  “I’m not testy. I’m just pointing out the ridiculousness of your thinking I need an escort to the bathroom.”

  He sighed. “Fine, I’m ridiculous. Now hurry up and get back here. It’s cold without you lying against me.”

  She tried not to let those words mean too much, but the truth was they made her feel a little twinge of happiness. Then again, she thought of their conversation before she’d fallen asleep, and fresh uncertainty filled her. She wanted to believe they could be happy in spite of the circumstances bringing them together, but she was too jaded to let herself really imagine it.

  She knew what it was like when the person you thought you knew became someone else entirely. Not that she expected Ryan to change so drastically, but any man forced into taking care of a family he hadn’t expected was going to be frustrated as time went on. Because babies didn’t get easier. She knew that much.

  Emily finished her business and returned to the bedroom. The compound was quiet for the most part, though she knew Ian was probably going over plans in his office and of course there were guys on patrol.

  Ryan was convinced it wasn’t safe here, but it was so quiet and ordinary to her that it felt perfectly normal. She closed the door softly, thinking maybe he’d fallen asleep while she’d been gone, but he moved as she approached and flipped the sheet back.

  She climbed over him and settled into the mattress again.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, fine. The meds helped tremendously. I don’t feel sick anymore—just tired and hungry.”

  “Are you hungry now?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He slipped from the bed and started to tug on his pants. “I’ll find something.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Ry. It’ll be breakfast soon.”

  “You don’t have to wait, Emily.”

  She curled up against the headboard while he disappeared through the door. Emily yawned and turned her head into the pillow. It smelled like Ryan, and she inhaled deeply. In reality, she’d never thought to have his scent on her pillow after the way she’d left him in DC. She’d known when she walked out of his apartment that night that she might never see him
again.

  To see him now—to be in the same bed with him, even if it was only platonic—was more heaven than she’d dreamed possible here in her tiny room in Acamar.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and he walked in with a tray he’d scrounged. Her heart flipped and squeezed. Would it always hurt like this to see him? It wasn’t a bad hurt, but it was a hurt nonetheless. She loved him desperately, but she had to be cautious because she knew what happened when her love wasn’t returned. How sickening and disappointing it felt.

  Emily sat up as he came over and put the tray over her lap.

  “You need the light?”

  “No, I can see.”

  There was some of that marvelous grilled flatbread that came with all the meals, fresh grapes, and some cheese.

  “It’s not much, but it’s what I could easily get my hands on.” He produced a bottle of water and Emily took it, her heart swelling out of proportion to the act. Sheesh, he was being nice the way he’d always been. It was nothing more than that. She could not read more into any of his actions, even if circumstances had changed between them.

  “It’s perfect. I’m not sure how much I can eat, though.”

  He sat beside her again, and her pulse skidded higher. “Eat what you can.”

  “I guess I should be thankful I didn’t crave ice cream,” she said with a laugh as she broke off a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure I could have found ice cream at this hour. I’ve noticed an appalling lack of Walgreens stores on street corners.”

  “I kinda look forward to getting back home and having twenty-four-hour HGTV again.”

  “HGTV, huh? I don’t think I realized you liked watching home shows.”

  “There’s just something about people shopping for houses that I like. Especially when they complain about the paint color or the fact there’s only one toilet. I just want to tell them they’re lucky to have a toilet, so shut the eff up, you know?”

  “Most people don’t realize how good they have it.”

  She ate a piece of cheese. “No, they really don’t. Three years in desert camps would shock most of them into heart failure.” She put the cheese down. “I hope Linda Cooper is okay. She has to be so stressed right now—and that’s not good for the baby.”