Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  “What’s on your mind, Belle?”

  “Leaving so soon, Belle?”

  She saw the hotel room, knew where it was, saw the man, naked, sprawled out in the bed, his eyes narrowed, his expression somber.

  He was her lover. He had been her first lover, and as she stared at him, she wondered why was he the only man she ached for?

  “It’s time to go, Black Jack.” She had to fight her tears. She didn’t want to leave the nice warm bed, the even hotter man, or the sense of security she found in his arms. “Nothing lasts forever, does it?”

  She opened the door and stepped out. The plane was waiting for her. She had a vacation coming, just a few short days, and she wanted to go home…

  It was gone. As quickly as the slow play of the memory began in her head, it stopped. But unlike previous memories, this one stayed. It didn’t tease her. It didn’t erase itself just as quickly as it had flashed in her mind.

  But she remembered the emotions, the tears she had fought to hold at bay. How she had been torn between staying with Travis and going off for a few short, miserable days of hiding, of watching the family she had lost during the short vacation she had been given.

  “Lilly? Are you okay?” She still stared at him as he tilted his head, his gaze so penetrating, as though he were trying to see inside her head, to track whatever thoughts were shifting through the shadows of her mind.

  “I’m fine.” She shot him a quick, sexy glance as she fought to cover the lapse in her control. “You have a rather odd habit of making a girl want to live in a fantasy forever.”

  She shrugged her own leather jacket from her arms. She hated riding without it, but suddenly, the temperature in the garage was stifling.

  Not that shedding the jacket helped. As the leather fell to the seat of the cycle, Travis’s gaze flared at the sight of the camisole top she wore, minus a bra.

  Her nipples were tight and hard, the full curves of her breasts suddenly swollen and sensitive. They ached for his touch. She ached for his touch. There wasn’t a cell on her body that wasn’t suddenly clamoring for the feel of him.

  As though that memory and the aching loneliness she had felt within it needed to be soothed. She never wanted to feel like that again. She never wanted to be torn between the need to feel his arms around her and the need to spy on a family she couldn’t be with.

  She had to fight back the tears now. The family she had ached for, that she had missed with such desperation, barely spoke to her. There was a wall between them. Her mother looked at her and they didn’t see Lilly; her mother didn’t see her daughter, she saw the call girl the report said that she had been.

  And her brother. She had idolized her brother, Jared, yet he had turned his back on her at the hospital and hadn’t spoken to her since.

  She moved closer to Travis, to the warmth and acceptance she had always felt from him. He had never asked her to be anyone other than whoever she wanted to be at any given moment.

  That knowledge was there as she watched him, as he watched her, and the silence grew between them. It wasn’t a memory, it was simply something she knew.

  As her breasts brushed against his chest, his hands lifted, stroked from her shoulders to her elbows and back. Lilly couldn’t help the slightest breath that expelled from her lungs, or the pleasure that raced through her arms at his touch.

  “I missed you,” she whispered as she leaned her head against his chest, suddenly seized by emotions she didn’t quite know what to do with. “Why have I missed you so desperately, Travis? Were you truly such an integral part of my life?”

  She asked the question, but she sensed the answer.

  “Things stood in the way, Belle,” he whispered, affirming what she had known to be the truth. “There are still things that stand in our way.”

  “Yet you’re here, now.” Lifting her head, she stared back at him and wondered if she should hide the emotions tearing through her. Wondered if she had done so before. Had she hid herself? Could she have given herself to him while still maintaining a shield between them?

  “I’m here now.” He cupped her face, his palm warm and rough, his fingers callused and so very strong. “I’ll always be here when you need me, Lilly.”

  “I need you now.” Her hands lifted to the edges of his jacket, pushed until it slid over his shoulders and fell to the cement floor beneath their feet.

  Running her hands to the band of his jeans, she pulled and tugged at the t-shirt until it came free, then pushed it over the hard contours of his tight abs before her fingers moved to the snap and zipper of his pants.

  He was watching her. Was he wondering what she would do? Had she always been so daring, so adventurous with him?

  She must have been. She could feel a hunger that she didn’t want to attempt to control, that she had no power over, rushing through her. Like a tidal wave, it washed away the protests in its path and left all but the raging hunger crumbling in its path.

  Parting her lips as his head lowered, Lilly watched his eyes, watched the darkening pupils, the hunger that filled them. She wasn’t alone in this need. It lived there inside him as well, almost an entity all its own and impossible to deny.

  His lips covered hers, a hungry growl passing them just before that first second of contact and infusing the heat beginning to burn inside her.

  Her fingers slid past the parted edges of the leather pants. The broad, heated shaft of his cock met her fingers, overfilled her palm and had her thighs clenching in need.

  Her pussy rippled in hunger, as she remembered the feel of the heavy shaft stretching her, filling her, pulsing arrows of incredible sensation striking at the very heart of her sex. Her clit was swollen, her juices running thick and hot to coat the swollen, intimate folds.

  Pleasure rolled over her in waves, one right after the other, as his kiss fueled an already naked hunger. His hands weren’t idle either. As her fingers stroked and caressed the silk-over-iron shaft of his cock, his fingers had lifted her top, bared her breasts, and played her nipples like a master musician.

  It was incredible. It was always incredible. Each night she came to him, each night he touched her with such deft, sure strokes of his hands, Lilly found herself becoming more and more entrenched in the ever-deepening emotions that roiled through her.

  She was falling in love with him.

  No, she had already been in love with him, she just hadn’t allowed herself to realize it, or to accept it. There had always been a tie, a bond that had been unbreakable between them.

  Her head tilted back as his kiss became harder, hungrier. His tongue swept past her lips, played with hers and sent her senses spinning out of control.

  Looping her arm around his neck, she held on for dear life as the kiss seemed to sear to her very soul. Flames licked over her flesh, tortured her nipples where his fingers stroked, plucked, plumped the tight tips.

  The sensation of his fingers on her nipples raced straight to her womb. Electric pleasure surrounded her clit, whipped around it and shot rippling fingers of destructive need into the heart of her pussy.

  Her fingers tightened on his cock just enough to drag a strangled moan from his throat as his hips shifted and fucked the hardened flesh against her grip.

  The thick, heavy crest was damp with precum, sliding against her fingers, slickening the head of his cock and heating her fingers.

  Lilly swore she could never live without more of him. There was a dark, hungry core inside her that consisted of nothing but the aching need for his touch. His hands cupping her breasts, his thumb and forefinger pulled at her nipple as his lips jerked back from hers and moved to her neck.

  Tilting her head back, Lilly couldn’t stop the whimpering little moan that came from her. His lips were so heated, his teeth raking sensation upon sensation against flesh that suddenly seemed much too sensitive.

  Her nipples hurt, they needed his touch so desperately. They were swollen and hard, pushing toward him, the gnawing hunger to feel his mouth drawing
on them tormenting her.

  “What do you want, baby?” he groaned, his lips caressing the valley between her breasts. “Tell me, Lilly, what do you want?”

  “You know what I want.” Her fingers speared into his hair, gripped and pulled until his lips were poised over her nipple, so close that the feel of his heated breath over the tight peak sent shivers racing down her spine.

  His tongue peeked out, licked, and then they both froze.

  They moved in sequence. The training Lilly knew but didn’t remember kicked in instinctively at the acrid scent of explosives flaming behind her.

  She tried to turn to confront the assailants, but found herself thrown to the side, Travis’s hard body covering hers, as the explosion suddenly ripped through the air.

  Her motorcycle.

  “Move!” Travis was scrambling, his fingers brutally tight on her arm as he dragged her the short distance to the entrance of the garage. A line of flames was licking at the sleek black frame of his own ride.

  They fixed their clothes hastily, their hearts racing, adrenaline pumping through their bodies.

  There was no time to get to the cycles or to stop what was coming. Wild-eyed, Lilly was on her feet, choking on the fumes as the garage door opened slowly, too fucking slowly. She watched as the greedy flames licked at the gas tank of Travis’s cycle now, the interior of the garage, moving higher.

  “Get out!” The garage door opened just enough to allow them to drop and roll to the other side.

  They were on their feet, racing for the side entrance of the house, when the second explosion tore a huge hole in the side of the garage, catapulting debris and flames. Lilly dug her feet into the grass and sprinted for the door.

  Turning at the doorway, they watched as wood, metal, and sparks rained down on the yard. The garage had little in it to burn. Thankfully the Hummer he kept in there was out for service and the Jag was parked out front or the resulting explosion would have taken out part of the house.

  “Get in.” The door opened and Travis was pushing her inside as he jerked his phone from the holder at his side. “It’s Travis. Get the fuck over here.”

  He disconnected the call and turned to face her as he pushed her into the kitchen.

  Nik and Henry were racing through the hallway, coming to a hard stop at the sight of them.

  “Stay here, Henry,” Travis barked. “The bikes just went up in flames. I’ve called for a cleanup crew.” He turned to Nik then. “Explosives. Get out there and see what you can find.”

  Nik moved past her, his pale blue eyes like frozen chips of ice, his hard corded body pumped for action.

  She turned to Travis, realization suddenly racing through her. “Attempt number three,” she whispered. “I’m starting to get the feeling someone doesn’t like me, Travis.”

  And that someone had to have been in her home, the only place her cycle could have been accessed. The only place anyone could have planted the explosives.

  And once again she had been damned lucky. Someone didn’t know what the hell they were doing obviously, or she and Travis both would have been dead.

  As Lilly turned, stared around the kitchen and fought to get her bearings, she began to wonder if she would ever be safe, and if this was the reason she had deserted her home, her family, and her way of life for six long years.

  To live.

  CHAPTER 10

  STRIKE TWO.

  Lilly stood in Travis’s kitchen, her arms folded across her breasts as she leaned back against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other.

  She lounged, she thought, and she watched.

  She especially watched the black-garbed, black-masked men that moved through the garage and the house. No law enforcement personnel were present. The situation was being carefully contained.

  And that didn’t surprise her. She was standing back, munching on a stalk of celery, watching, waiting, thinking.

  This was the third attempt on her life. First, there had been the night her father had been killed, then a gunshot to the head, now her motorcycle. And it wasn’t just any motorcycle either. That had been her baby even if she couldn’t remember where she had gotten it from.

  Lifting the celery stalk to her lips, she bit off another piece and listened to it crunch.

  “Someone didn’t know what the hell they were doing,” a dark, slightly accented voice said.

  Lilly turned her head to stare at the figure that entered the room. Black eyes, a peak of black hair beneath his mask. He was foreign.

  It was becoming a game to stand, to watch, to let knowledge roll through her mind.

  He was Maverick. She couldn’t remember the name he went by, the identity he used, or the agency he belonged to but she knew the code name.

  “That, or they didn’t have the time they needed to wire it right.” Wild Card. Deep, dark navy blue eyes. He was different, she thought, different from the others somehow. He wasn’t a killer. He was a hero.

  But did that make the others killers?

  No, not killers, but they were harder, more lethal, for some reason.

  But once upon a time, Wild Card too had been a killer. Now, he was a lover, a man who returned to home and hearth every chance he had.

  Maverick had changed over the years as well. Just as Heat Seeker had. Heat Seeker was watching her now, his dark gray eyes thoughtful, intent. As though he saw more than she wanted him to.

  Could he see that she knew things she was aware she shouldn’t know?

  “It’s been a hell of a few months for you, hasn’t it, Lady Harrington?” he asked, his voice low, dark, and a bit amused.

  “Seems so.” She popped the last piece of celery in her mouth and crunched before smiling tightly.

  His head gave a small nod of sympathy. “Seems a shame. What could a pretty woman like yourself have done to piss someone off so bad?”

  She swallowed, then inhaled slowly, evenly. “Perhaps it was because of my vocation,” she suggested with an edge of mockery. “A jealous wife perhaps? Who knew the life of a high-priced whore could get so dangerous?”

  Silence filled the room. Every man there stilled, turned, and leveled their gazes on her. Even Travis. His gaze was dark, his jaw tight as she straightened and moved across the kitchen.

  “I need a ride home,” she informed him. “I have a party to get ready for, as do you.”

  She stopped in front of him, and for a second, just a second, her body became sensitized, her heart raced. She had been so close in that damned garage. So close to losing more of herself than she already had. She was losing more of her soul, each time he touched her. Her heart was already gone. It belonged to him, but now, she was risking the rest of her spirit to him.

  For what?

  What was she risking herself for? The man who loved her, or the man who would end up betraying her?

  “Nik?” She spoke to the bodyguard as Travis stared back at her silently, warningly.

  “Yes, Lady Lilly?” He was forever reminding her of her title.

  “I need a ride to the house, please. It seems Travis is a bit tied up for the moment.” Her head turned, her gaze going unerringly to the intense blue eyes and commanding stance of the masked figure that stood on the other side of the room.

  He hadn’t spoken much, and never in front of her.

  Live Wire. His code name hinted at the dangerous personality she could be dealing with.

  “Take her home, Nik,” Travis ordered, but his gaze never left her.

  As she turned back to him, their eyes locked and emotions surged and twisted between them enough to make her chest tight, her heart heavy.

  “I’ll be early,” he warned her. “Make certain you can find a private spot for us to discuss this.”

  Lilly shrugged. “Never fear. I’ll just have the butler show you to my bedroom. It doesn’t get much more private than that, does it?”

  She strode from the room, to the far hall and then out the side entrance of the house that they had fallen through as
they escaped the explosion in the garage.

  She needed to get away from the eyes watching her, the hidden thoughts, the suspicion. As though they were watching, waiting, poised to punish her for remembering whatever she had forgotten.

  Memories that she hoped returned soon. The dual personalities were beginning to get on her nerves.

  Travis turned back to the men in the kitchen as the masks came off and he faced the team that had come running at the first word of increased danger.

  Jordan, John, Noah, and Micah watched him as he pushed his fingers through his hair and blew out a hard breath.

  “That was Night Hawk,” John stated, his voice decisive. “You know, come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of the woman you described as Lady Victoria Harrington, Black Jack.”

  Neither had he.

  Once, he had belonged to England’s high society. London was his playground, royalty were his peers. He had drunk, partied, and done business with the world’s most elite social set.

  He’d been the last of a family line that had been incredibly frugal with the inheritances that had been passed down. They had been built upon, saved, hoarded. Until Travis. Until he’d lost everything because of the deception of a faithless woman.

  Travis had known Lilly then as Lady Victoria Harrington. He’d danced with her at parties, and fought against whatever it was that had drawn him to her at the time.

  She had been so young, so innocent. Even then he’d found it hard to believe that her father was allowing her to participate in his activities with MI5.

  “No, she’s no longer Lady Victoria,” he said, as the others continued to watch him expectantly. “Six years as a black op, living a double life, she’s not the young girl she was anymore.”

  “Santos and Rhiannon are going to be at the party,” Jordan informed him then. “I’ll be there, as well as Ian and Kira Richards, and her uncle Jason McClane. You better get a handle on her before she enters the fray, Travis. Because the woman I just witnessed is a clear product of the Elite Ops. No one would mistake her for a silken-handed member of aristocracy, nor would they mistake her for a call girl. She was too damned tough.”