Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

Stupid bastard.

  He stored the samples and let the motor go. Checking into it more deeply for the problem with the traction or power could lead to complications. If Delbert thought the garage had done no more than an overall test, then when he was arrested for those samples he wouldn’t pin the blame on Sabella’s head. Or Noah’s.

  Hiding a smug grin, he called over to the mechanic he suspected was a plant, and put him on the truck instead.

  Noah knew for a fact he’d found everything incriminating in there, and what was left, the sallow-skinned little mechanic working on the truck wouldn’t find. It was tucked in too deep. Just enough left to incriminate Delbert when the truck was taken apart.

  Noah went upstairs to the apartment, and recorded the positioning of the remaining evidence, the areas from which he had scraped the hair and skin samples, folded the paper around the vials, and wrapped it all together with heavy rubber bands before pushing it into the pocket of his jeans again and returning to the garage.

  It would be a few hours before Nik could safely leave, without being noticed, and head to the bunker. Going over to Sabella’s friend’s car, he looked it over carefully, while keeping the mechanic working on the truck in close view.

  If he found anything, Delbert would be there fast to pick up the truck. If he didn’t, the mechanic would keep doing what he was doing now, scratching his head and checking the fuel injection. Those samples weren’t anywhere close to the fuel injection.

  Noah saw Sabella pulling out of the driveway to the house, and a few seconds later Micah’s car pulled out of a nearby street and followed behind her. She was covered, but it bit his ass that he wasn’t the one covering her, protecting her.

  Shaking his head, he moved back into the garage and grinned back at the mechanic watching him from Delbert’s pickup. In a gesture of friendliness, the man was shaking his head and grinning.

  “She’s a fine one.” The mechanic, Chuck Leon, grinned and pulled at the dirty blond goatee he wore. “You could do worse in these parts.”

  “Yeah, I could,” Noah grunted. “And I could get more mechanics too if you don’t want to work.”

  Something flickered in the other man’s brown eyes. But he nodded slowly before bending to the motor and going back to work.

  Noah wasn’t there to make friends with militia members, he was there to identify them and get their asses behind bars. But he had to admit, Leon was a hell of a mechanic when he wanted to be.

  Noah’s eyes met Nik’s. The Russian was bent over the hood of the third car in the bay, while the fourth man was working the counter in the convenience section. Nik wasn’t the sociable type. The big Russian with his white-blond hair and icy blue eyes was more killer material than checkout.

  Glancing back toward the road, Noah clenched his teeth and went back to work. There were more cars waiting in the parking lot outside. Nik seemed to be pulling in the college girls. They liked his rough looks evidently. More of Toby’s friends were dropping their cars off when they had to, and more of their parents were coming, stopping by, checking to see how things were going.

  There was a rhythm developing, and Noah was letting it seep into him more and more. Just as Sabella was taking a firmer hold on his very spirit than she had ever had.

  Enough so that he was beginning to wonder, when it was all over and done with, how he would manage to walk away from her again. The men of the Elite Ops were dead men except the current members of the former SEAL Team he’d fought with. There was no rebirth. Nathan Malone could never return. Not to Alpine, not this family, and to Sabella.

  But walking away from her was going to be impossible.

  “I’m convinced we need a girls’ night out.” Sienna stretched on the massage table as she, Sabella, and Kira Richards lay beneath the thin sheets in the massage room while talented hands worked at the kinks along their bodies.

  “Girls’ night out?” Sabella mumbled. “I remember those. They were hell. I always had a hangover after hanging out with you, Sienna.”

  Her friend snickered. “I’m sick of hanging around the house at night. Rick doesn’t come in till all hours, and when he does come home, he just goes to sleep.”

  There was something in Sienna’s voice, some note of anger that Sabella remembered hearing several times in the past few years.

  “You and Rick still fighting over his schedule?” she asked.

  “Same old.” Sienna waved her hand indifferently. “But now that you’ve rejoined the land of the living, I thought a night out would be nice.”

  Sabella pondered the idea for all of a second.

  “My new mechanic needs supervision,” she finally said mockingly. “I’m supervising.”

  Kira snorted. Sienna groaned. “I can’t believe you’re doing the nasty with your mechanic. Nathan would have had a fit, Sabella.”

  There was a tense silence as Sienna’s comment struck a raw nerve. Sienna had been friends with her and Nathan, but she’d had more of a history with Nathan.

  “Nathan would have wanted me to be happy,” she finally said softly.

  “With another man just like him?” Sienna asked. “Come on, you’re on the rebound. The guy has eyes that remind you of your husband’s and the same attitude. Second best isn’t enough for a man like that. He’s going to go ballistic on you soon.”

  “Then he can go ballistic the other way.” Sabella shrugged as though it didn’t matter.

  But why wasn’t she more inclined to want to talk to Sienna about this? To share the knowledge building in her. She had always told Sienna everything. Shared everything with her friend, until Nathan’s “death.”

  Now, she didn’t want to share this with anyone, though she admitted she had to bite her lip to keep from grilling Kira about Noah Blake, because she knew, knew to the bottom of her soul, that Kira knew everything Ian knew.

  “I told you, get the sexual crisis out of the way,” Kira mumbled from her massage table beside Sabella’s. “Let her get the kink out of her guts, Sienna. She’ll feel better for it.”

  That edge of amusement in the other woman’s voice could have meant anything.

  “One of these days I’m going to make you pay for that advice,” Sabella warned her. “The man is positively possessive. He could make me crazy.”

  Let her make of that what she would.

  “Nathan was so easygoing.” Sienna sighed. “He never got jealous.”

  Oh, that wasn’t necessarily true, Sabella admitted to herself. Nathan had been jealous, he just hid it, even from her. He’d been easygoing, filled with laughter, always polite, but there had been a core of seething emotion inside her husband that was finally free. And one of those emotions was jealousy. She had known even years before that Nathan, the man he had once been, had capped that particular emotion. He had fought it, because he trusted her. Because he had known there was no way to lock her away while he was on a mission or while he was home. But that hadn’t meant he hadn’t felt it, and that she hadn’t felt the echoes of it.

  “No. He never got jealous,” Sabella agreed.

  That was something else Sienna didn’t know, and Sabella admitted she had no intention of telling her. Noah was hiding, obviously for a reason. She couldn’t risk endangering whatever he was doing. She refused to risk his life.

  “Is he anything like Nathan?” Sienna lifted her head, her gaze direct as she met Sabella’s.

  Sabella stared back at her friend, hating the suspicion that raged inside her. She didn’t trust her best and dearest friend in the world. And that hurt.

  “No,” she finally said, and in some ways, it was the truth. “Nathan was easier going. Always smiling. Always loving. Noah is more intense, quieter. More dominant maybe.”

  “An animal.” Kira pretended a shudder. “He looks like he would be wild in the sack.”

  “Would you shut up,” Sabella said, laughing.

  “Is he an animal in bed, Belle?” Sienna snickered.

  “He’s an animal all right. All growls and snap
ping and snarling around,” she said. “And what he’s like in bed has nothing to do with it.”

  Kira and Sienna both lifted their heads and stared at her in shock.

  “Since when?” Kira arched a perfect brow in false surprise.

  “After marriage, definitely,” Sienna grunted. “It’s hump hump, sleep sleep.”

  Kira and Sabella jerked their gazes to Sienna. She lifted her brows, waggled them then laughed and laid her head back to the padded table.

  But there was something about her statement, that laugh, that made Sabella wonder if there wasn’t more to her comment than she was letting on.

  Conversation eased then. The massage wrapped up, and soon after, Sabella was dressed and paying her bill. She was waxed and oiled, styled and pedicured. Her nails had been buffed and trimmed. She felt like a woman again. She hadn’t felt like a woman in so many years. It felt like forever. She felt like a lover, almost like a wife, and excited, exhilarated by the emotions and the sexuality that flowed freely within her again.

  She felt the excitement moving with her. Noah had an edge now, a hard-core, hungry edge that called to that part of her that she’d always kept a rein on during their previous relationship.

  He talked dirty to her. He was naughty and he made her feel naughty. He made her want to push him, challenge him. He made her want things she would have never asked him for before. Because he had controlled their sexuality. Because she hadn’t had him with her nearly enough in those two years. The missions he had gone on had been steady; sometimes, she had done without him for weeks at a time. When he came home, she gave her husband what her husband needed, though she had known that as the years passed, they would grow into each other. If they had had those years to share.

  As she waved back to Sienna, who had managed to find a parking spot close to the entrance, Sabella and Kira walked at a slow pace, silent. The tension between them wasn’t hostile, but it was there, thick and heavy.

  “How’s Noah doing?” Kira tucked her hands in the pockets of her shorts as they walked, glancing over at her curiously. “His wounds are doing okay?”

  “So far.” She nodded, swallowing deeply. Kira knew something, as did her husband Ian, and Sabella knew it. And she hated the lies, though she was trying to understand them.

  “You didn’t tell Sienna about the attack,” Kira mentioned then. “Why not?”

  Sabella paused at the back of her car and turned to meet Kira’s gaze. “Because I don’t know how widespread that knowledge is. If no one knows he’s wounded, then they won’t think he’s weak and come after him again. They reported the attempted hit-and-run on Toby, but Sienna asked about that this morning. There was no sense in saying more about it.”

  Kira’s too perceptive gaze met her own then.

  “How do you feel about a few hours and a few glasses of wine?” Kira finally asked. “Ian’s going to be out of the house until morning, and like for Sienna, the house gets too quiet sometimes.”

  Sabella doubted that. She stared around the parking lot for a long moment before turning back to the other woman.

  “Why don’t you come to my house instead.” She turned back to her. “My husband had a nice stock of wine in the basement. We could uncork one of his favorites.” Wouldn’t that horrify Noah? “Get drunk and trash men.”

  “You’re still angry with him?” Kira asked, a curious glint in her eye.

  “I can always find a reason to be angry at a man that lies to me,” she informed the other woman. “It’s in the rule book. We’re allowed.”

  Kira’s lips quirked as she nodded. “I’ll follow you,” she decided. “You know, Sabella, I have a feeling you’re a hell of a lot more perceptive than Ian or Noah wants to admit to. That could make our men uncomfortable.”

  “Serves them right.” Sabella laughed, though she gritted her teeth at the thought moments later.

  Finding out exactly why those two men were lying their asses off to her was her objective. And if she didn’t find out on her own soon, then she was going to be bashing one dominating, overly possessive, lying Navy SEAL. And she was going to do it with the flat side of her black iron skillet.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “We have trouble.” Nik spoke as he eased up to Noah where he stood in the wide entrance to the garage, staring up at the house on the hill, his eyes narrowed, jaw bunched.

  Kira Richards had driven in behind Sabella an hour before. The two women had carried several grocery bags into the house and he hadn’t seen them since.

  Sabella hadn’t come down to collect the deposit for the bank. She had called and told Rory to take care of it for her, and she hadn’t even asked to talk to him.

  “What’s the trouble?” Noah asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the house, willing Sabella to step outside.

  “Micah reported in a few minutes ago. He hung around town after she left with Ian’s wife. He saw Mike Conrad go into the spa, pull their masseuses and techs aside. From what Micah saw from out back, the man was questioning them pretty heavily.”

  Noah flicked him a look. “He didn’t find out anything.”

  Sabella didn’t know enough to be a danger to them, but it wouldn’t matter what she knew, she would have never discussed it.

  “Probably not,” Nik agreed. “Point is, he’s suspicious. It could come back on her.” He nodded to the house, indicating Sabella.

  “Then he’ll die.” Noah turned back to Nik, icy resolve burning inside him as he met the Russian’s gaze.

  Nik nodded slowly, his pale face as cold, as bleak as death. And Noah knew he was remembering his own lost family and the lengths he would have gone to protect them.

  “I’ll be at your back,” Nik told him then. “No doubt, Noah Blake, I’ll be at your back.”

  Nik turned and reentered the garage, and Noah stayed in place, and watched the house. Wondered what the hell Sabella and Kira were up to.

  “Toby, Nik will drive you home,” he yelled back to the office. “Get ready to roll.”

  He looked at the clock. It was nearly seven, almost closing time. And Sabella had been to the spa. For hours. He remembered those all-day spa trips. And he damned sure remembered what awaited him that night when he crawled between the loveliest pair of thighs he had ever known.

  Bare, slick flesh. Sheened with her juices. Luscious, tasty, a hint of almond oil on her flesh, nothing between him and tasting her.

  “Belle thought we should start keeping the convenience store and gas pumps open longer now that we have more help,” Rory announced as he stepped out to Noah minutes later. “You working tonight’s shift?” Smug amusement filled his brother’s tone.

  “Only if you’re dead.” He turned back to Rory slowly. “You look like you’re breathing to me. Should we see about giving you an excuse not to work it? But death is the only one that will work.”

  Rory grimaced as he shoved his hands in his dark gray work pants and glared back at Noah. “I had a date.”

  “So do I,” Noah informed him.

  “My date is more important,” Rory growled. “I’ve been after this woman for months. Pretty little phys-ed major.” He sighed. “She’s built, Noah.”

  “She’s doomed to disappointment tonight. Unless you want to go ahead and close on time.”

  Rory glanced up at the house. “Do you think she’ll notice?”

  “Probably.”

  Rory turned back to him, narrowed his eyes, and got that calculating look on his face that Noah knew well.

  “I’ll close up early, and you keep her busy so she doesn’t figure it out,” he suggested. “And when Sabella finally figures out what a prick you are, I’ll take up for you.”

  “You close up early, you face Sabella’s wrath. And if she ever figures out what a prick I am, then we’re all in a hell of a lot more trouble than you ever imagined,” Noah told him, his voice low, intent. “So you better pray that one doesn’t happen.”

  He left it at that before striding through the
garage, into the office, to the door of the apartment. Locking it behind him, he took the stairs two at a time until he was at the second door. There, he pulled the narrow sliver of the toothpick he had pushed into the lock free and stepped slowly inside.

  He could see the glimmer of Scotch tape on the door across the room that led to the deck. It was still in place. The door hadn’t been opened.

  He was still cautious as he moved through the apartment though and locked the heavy door to the bathroom behind him. Sabella had been to the spa, and he couldn’t wait, he was damned near shaking in anticipation of what could be awaiting him.

  A bottle of wine sat empty on the bar and Sabella stared morosely at her half-empty glass. Unfortunately, she had drunk most of it.

  “I’m turning into a lush,” she said as she lifted her gaze and glanced at the other woman.

  Kira was relaxed into the high-backed bar stool, one slim leg crossed over the opposite knee and staring at her own glass.

  “It’s damned good wine. Good thing your husband isn’t here. He might have spanked you otherwise. It’s very old wine, I do believe.”

  Sabella grinned at the thought of it, and at Kira’s particular phrasing. Her deliberate phrasing. This wasn’t a woman who messed up. She was too much like her husband. Too deliberate, too comfortable in her own skin, in who and what she was.

  “Lucky, ain’t I?”

  Kira’s brow arched. “You must be getting along very well with your mechanic then.”

  “I haven’t thrown a glass at him yet.” Sabella sat back in her bar stool and regarded the other woman curiously. “My husband and I were barely married a year before I threw a glass at him. He was a damned good man, but I believe he might have thought I needed ‘guidance.’ ”

  “Guidance in what?”

  Amusement glittered in her gray eyes. Sabella sipped her wine and watched the other woman. There was an air of confidence, of sheer daring, in Kira Richards that Sabella envied but wouldn’t wish for herself.

  “In being a SEAL wife.” Sabella’s lips quirked in a grin. “He could come home busted up, wounded, bruised to hell and back, and just say ‘bad mission,’ and I wasn’t to worry. I wasn’t to check the bruises or kiss his boo-boos. That was the reason I threw the first glass. I thought it would help. He can let the bad guys beat up on him, but I can’t worry about him?” She arched her brows. “Fine, he could carry bruises from me as well.”