by Lora Leigh
Jordan rose from his seat, took a sip of his coffee, and turned to Nik. “I’ll need you with me for this meeting.”
Nik nodded and left the room as Risa continued to glare at them all.
“I’ll make you pay for this one day, Jordan,” Micah said coolly. “Be watching for me.”
Jordan’s answer was a slow grin. “I’ll be sure to, Micah. I’ll see you this evening.”
Risa watched as Jordan left the room, her mind and her emotions thrown into confusion as he disappeared into the living room and a few seconds later the sound of the door heralded his exit.
There hadn’t been a time that she had seen that man that it had been good news. She turned to Micah then, and felt that well of anger burning inside her reignite.
She couldn’t remember ever being this furious, this hurt. Even Jansen Clay had never hurt her in quite this way. Her chest felt tight with the betrayal, tears locking in her throat as she pushed back the impulse to sob out in fury.
“I have work to do,” she stated, moving around the opposite side of the table and heading for the doorway. “I’m sure you can find something to occupy yourself.”
“Is that the only way you know how to deal with your anger, Risa?” he growled at her. His voice was deep, frustrated.
Poor baby, he was frustrated. Too damned bad.
“Last I heard, murder was illegal.” The sound of her own voice was less than comfortable.
“And the last I heard, hiding from danger could be deadly,” he stated, his voice oh, so damned cool. Superior. Arrogant. His arrogance lay around his shoulders like a particularly comfortable article of clothing. And it pissed her off.
“Who exactly has been hiding?” The rush of anger-powered adrenaline that surged through her had her fighting back the need to scream.
She didn’t let herself get angry for a reason. Getting angry meant facing the fact that she was helpless against something. That something else in her life was controlling what she did, how she acted. It meant she wasn’t in control of the situation and therefore her life. And she was sick of outside forces controlling her.
“You hide, Risa,” he stated, his black eyes remote as he stared back at her. “You hide from the memories the same as you’re content to hide in this apartment. It took you six years to get the courage to even find a lover.”
“And just look at the prime piece I found,” she had to snarl back in reply. “I waited all these years for a liar, a manipulator, and a coldhearted bastard. Lucky me.”
It rose inside her then. The fact that she had been manipulated, that others had lied to her, that Micah had used her own arousal against her the night before she had been shocked with the fact that her life was in danger.
“I never claimed to be anything less.” His eyes held her. They were cool, but there was a glimmer in the dark reaches, something that assured some primal sense she had that she was poking at a very dangerous creature.
Unfortunately, caution wasn’t something she was in the mood for today.
He wanted her out of his life. That knowledge burned like a ragged flame inside her, searing her emotions. He thought she was too weak, that she couldn’t see this operation out. That she couldn’t participate in any way in her own protection.
“No, you didn’t claim to be anything less,” she agreed, hating the shaking of her voice, the tremor that rushed through her body. “And I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less, either, should I?”
She should have remembered, she told herself. She should have remembered he was an agent, not a lover. And he was a man. A man didn’t have to feel anything to take a woman to his bed; all he needed was enough attraction to attain a hard-on.
God, she was so stupid.
She pushed her hands through her hair and fought back the bitter laugh that would have left her lips.
“You’re making this into something it’s not,” he finally stated, his voice harsher now. “I want you safe; it’s that simple. Orion wouldn’t guess that you were at a safe house. The spy he killed in Russia was different. He would have expected someone to be watching for him. Everyone knew there was more than one contract out on the spy’s head. He was a dirty bastard that pissed off too many people. Orion wouldn’t expect your lover to send you to a safe house, Risa.”
“No kidding.” The bitterness showed then. It filled her voice and colored the anger surging through her. “He wouldn’t have been alone.”
“You’re missing the point.” His voice sharpened.
“I’m not a moron, Micah,” she almost yelled back at him. “I know exactly what you meant. The fact of the matter is, you don’t know what he knows at this point. He could very well be aware that this is an operation against him and expect me to disappear at any moment. We’ve been at this for over a week. You and Jordan both have assured me Orion would attempt to breach the apartment first. Well, he didn’t. He nearly took me, in public, and almost killed you. Evidently you don’t know him nearly as well as you think you do.”
Her voice rose as anger and hurt clashed inside her, fueling emotions she had always shied away from simply because she didn’t know how to handle them.
And he accused her of hiding? Accused her of fighting her memories and her needs so she could hide instead? As though nothing mattered to her but hiding. Damn him. There was a difference between hiding and healing. A difference between controlling herself and letting others control her.
“We’re letting this get out of hand, Risa.” His observation, carried out in that cool, distinct voice of his, had the power to trigger an explosion of almost overwhelming rage.
“You let this get out of hand.” Her voice shook with the accusation. “You lied to me from the start. You manipulated me and now that things are getting too sticky, you’re ready to opt out. Well, opt out, Micah.” She threw her hand toward the door as her voice rose again. “Why don’t you just go tell Jordan you’re better at observation than you are at participation in this little mission? Maybe he can find another volunteer to screw me over.”
He moved before she could anticipate his next action. He crossed the room, pushing her against the wall as his larger, harder body trapped her there.
And he was aroused. His erection pressed into her lower stomach, reminding her of the lover he had been, and the lies he had told even as he held her in the most intimate of embraces.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he rasped, his hands catching her wrists as she tried to push against him and holding them against the wall. “Don’t push me, Risa. I’m not the man you want me to be. I’m not gentle. I can’t give you a future. And that’s what you want.”
And she hadn’t even realized it until he told her he couldn’t give it to her.
She wanted to curl into herself with the pain and the humiliation that he had seen something she hadn’t realized herself.
“Let me go.” She forced her voice not to tremble. Forced herself not feel.
She knew how to do that. She had learned at Jansen Clay’s knees when she had been a child begging for a father’s love. He hadn’t had it to give, and neither did Micah. That wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself. She couldn’t make him love her, couldn’t make him want to try to love her.
“Risa, we’re going to settle this, now,” he warned her. “You’re hurt, and I understand why. This was the reason I wanted you in a safe house, away from me. I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I don’t.”
He was sincere. She could see it in his expression, in his eyes. And it made it hurt all the more.
“You haven’t hurt me.” She tugged at her wrists until he released her, then pushed against his body, forcing herself away from the warmth and the feeling of security that being close to him brought her.
He wasn’t security, she told herself. His ability to catch Orion was all she needed. She didn’t need a man to secure her life. For some reason, though, it had taken Micah to make her need one to secure her emotions.
“Jordan’s opt
ions sounded much better to me than the idea of a safe house,” she stated as she moved away from Micah. “At least this way, we know which target he’s after and I have the entire attention of the team you’re using. The safe house doesn’t feel secure.”
Micah didn’t speak; he watched her. She could feel his gaze on her back as she moved back to the desk and the work that no longer interested her.
“His idea of public outings also seems the wisest course of action,” she continued as she sat down in her chair and blinked back her tears as she focused on the accounting software pulled up on the monitor.
Control, she reminded herself. Releasing her emotions had never done anything but humiliate her.
“If you prefer not to see his plan through, then I completely understand,” she stated as she tried to focus on her job. “I’m certain Jordan can find someone else. Maybe Jordan can find a double for you, Micah; that way Orion will never guess you couldn’t stomach the job.”
Silence filled the room behind her.
When Micah finally spoke, the sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Jordan can risk his life in such a manner if it pleases him,” he stated, ice coating every word. “Be warned, Risa, as long as this operation is in effect, any man that attempts to even consider taking my place in your bed had better take out life insurance.”
She turned to face him then. He was watching her, his black eyes brooding, icy, dangerous.
“As you’re no longer welcome in that bed, either, Micah, then it’s not your choice to make.”
Micah watched her stiff back as she turned back to the computer. His nostrils flared; his back teeth clenched.
Okay, he hadn’t handled that so well, but then, neither had Jordan. The son of a bitch had sabotaged him as effectively as anyone ever had.
He moved to the couch and sat down slowly, forcing himself to remain in control.
He was Mossad, he reminded himself. Just because he was no longer a member of the elite force didn’t change who or what he was. He was one of the most lethal killers, one of the most advanced agents, in the world. He’d killed for years. He’d faced opponents who had never made him sweat. Even his death had barely been a glitch on his radar. It had allowed him to exact revenge, nothing more. It allowed him to work with an autonomy and a security that Mossad hadn’t given him.
The Elite Ops went beyond even black ops. They were privately funded but enjoyed a political backing that went beyond the American agencies.
He was one of the most advanced agents on the face of the earth, yet he couldn’t handle one small woman with anything even remotely resembling grace.
He’d hurt her. The thought of that made him think of Ariela Abijah, the mother who had counseled him until her death. And he felt shame. She had taken the time to try to teach her son the intricacies of a woman’s heart. With his father at her side, she had shown Micah the value of a loving, secure relationship. She had warned him to always remember that a woman’s strength had little to do with how well she could fight physically but had more to do with where a woman’s heart lay.
He’d forgotten that lesson with Risa.
She found her strength in pushing the memories aside and going on. He’d been unfair to her, and now he had no idea how to reach out to her. And perhaps that was for the best, he told himself. If she stayed angry, then she wouldn’t lose her heart. If she stayed angry, then perhaps he wouldn’t lose his, either.
One thing was for damned certain: She had torn him in so many different directions that at the moment, he had no idea how to deal with her.
He hadn’t expected her fury or her hurt at the thought of going to a safe house. Honestly, he thought she would feel secure.
He’d known the moment Jordan had let the information out that Micah wanted her moved, that Risa wasn’t feeling in the least secure.
Fury had pumped inside her small body, it had filled her eyes and her voice, and amazingly it had made his cock swell harder, tighter, than ever before.
The pure shimmering defiance in her expression had done something to him that he hadn’t expected. It had made him want her more than ever before. As though he hadn’t desired her enough. As though every time he touched her, kissed her, stroked her rounded curves, he didn’t burn for her in a way that he had never burned for another woman.
She was a hunger he couldn’t get control of, and that concerned him. It worried him.
And now, she thought that she could actually order him from her bed? Obviously she believed that her defiance was going to go unrewarded.
“The bed is not negotiable.” He felt the need to warn her of that right up front.
She turned slowly, the office chair squeaking a bit as she faced him fully.
“No, it isn’t negotiable,” she promised with a smile so falsely sweet that he wondered if it were possible to develop a sugar high from it. “My bed. Period. You, Mr. Sloane, can sleep on the damned floor for all I care.”
Micah propped his booted feet on the coffee table, laced his hands over his abs, and smiled back at her. “Bet me.”
CHAPTER 16
BET ME!
It was a damned good thing she hadn’t bet him, because he had ended up sleeping in her bed. Right in the middle. His hand on her hip all night long.
Sleeping wasn’t something Risa had managed much of that night, which left her crankier than normal the next morning. Cranky, angry, and hurt.
She couldn’t believe he was that desperate to get rid of her. And if he was that desperate, why was he sleeping in the middle of her bed and touching her all night long?
She was greeted when she awoke to another replay of the newscaster going over the wreck and attempted kidnapping that had occurred, as well as phone calls from various news agencies. It seemed everyone was interested in Risa Clay again. Six years of anonymity shot to hell. Once again her face was plastered on the television screen.
To make matters worse, they were supposed to go out. Dinner and dancing, he had informed her over breakfast. Oh yeah, she was all up for dinner and dancing.
It was no surprise when a courier from one of the more expensive boutiques arrived that day with more new clothes, and Risa felt her temper rising that much further.
“You’re staying, then you have to play the part,” Micah informed her as she glared at the dresses, skirts, and tops laid out on her bed. “Trust me, Orion and his employer have run my background. They know the information we put out there for them to find. If you want his employer pushing him, then you’ll play the part. The faster we finish this, the faster you can get on with your life.”
He stared at her with that calculating look in his eye that he had held all morning. As though he were figuring out a puzzle, working the pieces and trying to make them fit.
She wasn’t a puzzle.
“If they researched you, then they researched me,” she told him between clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t wear clothes like this.”
“You wore clothes exactly like this the first night I met you,” he pointed out, and Risa felt her blood pressure rising. At this rate, she was going to end up having a stroke. “But if you can’t wear them.” He shrugged philosophically as he eyed her with a mocking look in his eyes. “I’m sure we can make allowances.”
As though she were too scared to wear them.
She stared down at the dresses. Maybe she was just frankly terrified of wearing them. Clothes like that made a woman feel daring; they made her feel as though she could conquer mountains. And Risa knew she wasn’t quite up to mountains yet. She couldn’t even conquer Micah.
The dresses were short; the skirts were short. The tops were sexy and the shoes were high-heeled and daring. She was going to so get in trouble wearing those clothes. Clothes she had once been terrified of. But not now. Not now because she knew she could wear them. She had worn the dress the other night, and the shoes. It wasn’t the clothes that caused her to swallow tightly. It was the man and the look in his eyes as he glanced
from the clothes to her.
“I don’t need you to make allowances for anything.” Damn her pride. “If you can stand to pay for it, then I can wear it.”
His brow arched. “Don’t let your mouth write checks your body can’t cash, sweetheart. Because trust me, I know exactly how to dress a woman for prime impact.”
Her smile was tight. “You don’t scare me, Micah,” she scoffed. He terrified a part of her. Another part was ready and rearing to challenge him.
She was tired of being manipulated. She was sick of being worked. He wanted to use her and walk away later, fine and dandy, because she wasn’t above using the security he offered her to gain a little self-confidence, somewhere. Maybe.
His smile curled a little wider, that luscious bottom lip tempting her even as the smile pissed her off.
“I should scare you.” He leaned closer, those lips within inches of hers now. “Because what those clothes will do to that luscious body of yours will make me hard, Risa. Hard and hungry. If you take the kid gloves off and decide to tempt the tiger, baby, then expect to have a bite taken out of that lovely hide of yours.”
“By you?” She sniffed as though in doubt when inside she was shaking. “I’m sure you can handle the pressure.”
She doubted she blipped on his radar any more than it took to make him hard. Some men any woman could arouse. Maybe Micah was one of those men.
She picked up the closest outfit and just barely managed not to cringe. At least she liked the color. The chocolate brown silk would complement her coloring; the short length would compliment her legs. The matching shoes, high-heeled of course, were gorgeous. The scalloped bodice would be lucky to cover her breasts, and the thin straps didn’t look strong enough to hold it up.
Micah’s brows lifted at her choice. “I especially liked that one when I chose it from the website,” he murmured. “Daring, Risa. Very daring.”
With that, he turned and walked from the room, the door closing behind him as Risa let out a hard breath and looked at the dress again.
Oh, she was in so much trouble here. This dress was so outside the realm of anything she would have chosen to wear. Dreamed of wearing, yes. That fantasy Risa who was daring and unafraid would have worn it in a New York minute.
