Power: Special Tactical Units Division (In Wilde Country Book 3)

by Sandra Marton

  Alessandra stumbled over a mangrove root. She said something swift and musical in Italian, but he had the feeling there was nothing musical about its meaning.

  Tanner lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Whatever you just said goes double for me.”

  “How many times can I be stupid enough to trip over these things? I mean, I know they’re there…”

  “Easy.”

  He drew her into his arms.

  She let out a long, deep sigh and leaned against him.

  “You’re limping,” she said, “but I’m the one doing the complaining.”

  “You’re not complaining. And I’m not limping.”

  She tilted her head back and looked at him.

  “You are.”

  “I’m not. I’m just exercising my feet. You know, put one down for a little longer than usual, lift the other a little faster than usual…”

  She laughed. He raised her face to his and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Then he took her hand and they began walking again.

  A few minutes went by.

  “I can see daylight through the trees,” Tanner said. “Well, what passes for daylight in a storm like this. I think we’re almost out of the swamp.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, we should be at our destination.”

  “A house,” she said wistfully.

  “A house,” he said, and then he caught his breath and drew her to a halt. “And there it is!”

  “Really?”

  He pointed straight ahead.

  A wide field of uncut wild grasses stretched before them, bending and swaying under the lash of the wind and the rain, and beyond the grassy field, on a knoll perhaps two, three hundred feet away, rose a house.

  It had the four walls and roof Alessandra had hoped for. It wasn’t big, but it didn’t have to be. It was a house, and it was theirs.

  Alessandra gripped his hand. “Tell me it’s not a mirage.”

  Tanner grinned. “It’s real. And it’s all ours, until they come and get us.”

  She laughed and stepped out of the trees, but he pulled her back

  “Not so fast. You’re going to stay put while I check things out.” She started to protest, but he stopped her. “No arguments, Alessandra. I’m doing this alone. If something goes wrong, head back into the swamp.”

  “No! I am not going to let you—”

  “Goddammit, woman, I’m not asking, I’m telling. Things go bad, you make for the river. Hide, wait for a lull in the storm. Then get into that canoe and paddle like hell.” He hesitated. “And if Bright Star turns up, if they take you—if I’m gone—remember that the name of the game for all these bastards is money. You’re worth more to them alive than dead.” He reached out, stroked her wet hair back from her face. “You do whatever they tell you to do, Alessandra. Understand?”

  Tears glittered in her eyes.

  He dug into his pack, took out the satphone and handed it to her.

  “Chay’s number is programmed in.”

  “Tanner. Listen to me…”

  He shrugged off the backpack and let it fall to the ground. Then he unholstered the SIG-SAUER and handed it to her.

  “Use it if you have to. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just do what you have to do.”

  The tears were running down her face.

  “Please. I don’t want to leave you…”

  He pulled her to her toes and kissed her.

  It was a hard, deep kiss that said everything he wanted to tell her, and when she threw her arms around him and returned his kiss with all the sweetness and passion a man could want, he knew that he stood on the threshold of something that was, in its own way, even more dangerous and exciting than the life he had created for himself at STUD.

  One last kiss. Then he unslung his MP7, cradled it in his arms, cleared his mind of everything except the task ahead and left the relative safety of the swamp for the long, open stretch of grass.

  The rain drove against his face with the force of a million tiny needles. The wind whipped the tall grass around his legs as he ran a zigzag course towards the house.

  He’d made this kind of run scores of times before.

  It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. You never knew if you’d reach your target or be cut down halfway to it. Always, you ran for yourself, but also for the men with you.

  Their lives were as important as yours.

  Now, something new had been added.

  He was running for Alessandra.

  Her life was everything.

  He could not let anything happen to keep him from returning to her. Maybe that was what kept him on his feet, kept him from feeling the pain in his bad leg and letting it collapse under him.

  The house stood silent against the steel-gray sky. Behind it, the wind whipped a stand of trees into a frenzy. A couple of hundred yards away, the ocean frothed against a desolate stretch of sand.

  When he reached the house, he flattened himself against the wall beside the door. He took a couple of breaths, let them out, then keyed the code Chay had given him into the lock.

  The door swung open.

  Virtually everyone on the teams and in STUD agreed that nobody ever really grew accustomed to this one moment. Walking into a yawning space where nobody knew what awaited you…

  No matter how many times you’d done it, you could still feel your heartbeat accelerate, your balls tighten, your mouth go dry.

  Every nerve ending in your lizard brain knew how vulnerable you were at that moment.

  MP7 up and ready, Tanner entered the house.

  He was greeted by a silence broken only by the moan of the wind and the beat of the rain.

  Instinct told him it was the kind of silence that said he was alone, but even though instinct was important, he’d learned it was sometimes unwise to rely on it.

  He’d known too many good men who’d thought a house was empty when it wasn’t.

  He was in a long hallway. Polished wood floor. White-painted walls. Bright abstract paintings on the walls.

  Civilization, after the savagery of the last few days.

  He elbowed the door shut. Then he moved forward, one cautious step at a time.

  An arched doorway to his left opened onto the living room. Leather sofa. Leather lounge chairs. Shelves of books. A fireplace with wood neatly stacked on the hearth. A wine rack. A couple of small, elegant sculptures. A wall of windows, covered by closed metal security shutters.

  A bank of small security monitors, showing nothing but empty rooms and the storm outside

  Chay was right. So far, the accommodations looked mighty fine.

  Back in the hallway, a door to the right stood open revealing a half-bath. Dark blue tile, white fixtures, white towels.

  A right-angle turn and the hall widened. Became a small dining room. Modern furniture. More windows, also shuttered. Beyond the dining room, a kitchen. Small, modern and very efficient-looking. Two walls of shiny appliances. A bank of monitors.

  Tanner was hardly an expert on kitchens or cooking, but this one all but bristled with invisible dollar signs.

  The entire place did.

  Tech billionaires sure knew how to live.

  There was a utility room off the kitchen. He took a quick visual survey. A back door that would open onto the beach. Shelves of food. Soups. Juice. Coffee. Cookies, crackers, rice…

  His mouth watered.

  And, as Chay had said, there was a generator in the corner.

  He’d seen generators before, back home on the res, things that stood outside and ran the lights or maybe a fridge—if you were lucky. This generator was a shiny, permanent installation. It would run an entire house. It was the reason all those expensive appliances were here in the middle of nowhere.

  That meant hot water. Hot food.

  So far, this place was the next best thing to paradise.

  Tanner went down a hallway that led away from the kitchen. It ended in a bedroom with an enormous
bed. More windows, all shuttered. A skylight over the bed, ditto. A wall of closets. He opened and checked them all. Clothes. He could only hope some would fit.

  Another bank of security monitors.

  And a tiled bathroom, complete with a big glass shower stall.

  The thought of a hot shower almost made him groan.

  The thought of sleeping in that bed made him smile.

  The thought of Alessandra in that shower and then in that bed with him almost dropped him to his knees, and what in hell was he doing, thinking of something like that when all his attention should be on his surroundings?

  Anyway, that wasn’t going to happen.

  They’d kissed a few times. Touched.

  Crap. Who was he kidding? They’d been within a breath of having sex last night, and only the last-minute realization of what a mistake that would have been had stopped him.

  It hadn’t stopped him wanting her.

  He burned with wanting her.

  Yeah, but you didn’t fuck around on a mission, no pun intended.

  Plus, she wasn’t a woman who was into one-night stands, and that was the only thing this could ever be.

  The real world was a helicopter ride away and then all this would be nothing more than a memory.

  Okay. The house was secured. Time to go and get Alessandra.

  Tanner retraced his steps, started down the hall towards the front door…

  And saw the door slowly opening.

  Shit!

  He flattened himself against the wall. Raised the MP7, slid his finger alongside the trigger guard…

  “Tanner?”

  Alessandra stood in the doorway, the heavy pack at her feet, the SIG-SAUER clutched in both hands and extended before her. It was perfect shooting posture, except he didn’t want her ready to shoot. He wanted her safely hidden where he’d left her.

  “Goddammit, Alessandra!”

  “Tanner.” Her voice shook; she let the pistol slip down, one-handed, and dangle against her thigh. “I thought—I thought you were—”

  “What in hell are you doing?” He was on her in a second, grabbing the pistol, securing it in his holster, his MP7 once again riding upright against his chest. “How’d you get in here?”

  “I heard you say the security co—”

  “I could have fucking killed you. Jesus, I almost pulled the trigger!”

  “You were gone so long. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “Really? You thought something had happened to me?”

  He knew he was shouting. So what? He was grateful he was able to speak at all.

  “Yes. I thought—”

  “You already said that.” He reached for the pack, dragged it into the house, slammed the door, caught her by the shoulders and hoisted her to her toes. “What were you supposed to do if something happened to me?”

  “Don’t you understand? I was afraid that—that you were hurt. Or dead. Or—”

  “You were supposed to run. Get to the river. Get into the canoe. Get your ass out of here. What part of that couldn’t you remember?”

  “And leave you,” she said in an unsteady whisper.

  “Damn right!”

  “Leave you to bleed. To die. Leave you, and never know what happened to you—”

  He was furious. Hot with rage. A simple command, and she hadn’t followed it. A straightforward set of instructions, and she’d disobeyed them.

  He wanted to shake her. Slap her. Do whatever it took to make her think logically.

  “Damn you,” he said, “damn you, Alessandra…”

  And then she was in his arms.

  His mouth was on hers.

  Her soft, lovely body was pressed to the long, hard length of his.

  She was kissing him back even as she wept, and the world blurred.

  His heart was pounding. He wanted to strip off his clothes and hers, take her right here against the wall.

  No.

  That was how he’d done things last night. She deserved more. Deserved better…

  “Tanner.”

  She whispered his name against his mouth.

  God. She was going to ask him to stop. And he would, even though it would kill him…

  “Please,” she said, “please, please, please. Make love to me. Tanner…”

  He growled her name. Caught her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to the bedroom, his mouth on hers, her sweet taste filling him.

  He lowered her to her feet. Shrugged off the MP7, his belt and the weapons of death it carried.

  And suddenly realized he didn’t have a condom.

  The realization made him groan.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, “I don’t have a con—”

  She covered his mouth with her fingers.

  “We don’t need condoms. I’m protected.”

  Tanner sent up a silent thank-you to any deities that might be in the vicinity. And

  knew, as he reached for her again, that those words would be his last rational act.

  She went into his arms, her mouth seeking his, her hands burrowing into his hair. He wanted to kiss her forever, sink his teeth lightly into the delicate fullness of her lower lip, feel the tip of her tongue dance against his, but his heart was thundering, his dick was so swollen it was almost painful.

  He drew back.

  “Don’t stop,” she said and he took the hand she held out to him, kissed the palm, then yanked off his shirt. Toed off his boots. Unzipped his pants, got them off along with his shorts.

  His erection sprang free. He was big. It had always been a point of stupid male pride, but now he was bigger than ever and hard as stone, harder than he’d ever imagined a man could be.

  She was already pulling off her shirt and he tore it from her hands, dropped it, shoved down her scrubs as she stepped out of her shoes.

  He stopped just long enough to look at her.

  She was naked under the shirt and scrubs. And beautiful.

  More than beautiful.

  Her lovely rounded breasts. The sweet indentation of her waist. The elegant curve of her hips. And those legs. Long enough to wrap around him as he took them both on an endless ride to the stars.

  He was moving too fast. He knew it. Knew it…

  “Hurry,” she said, and he was lost.

  He took her in his arms. Backed her against the wall. Bent to her and sucked one sweet rosy nipple into the heat of his mouth while his thumb played over the other.

  She was moaning. Saying his name. Rising towards him, wrapping one leg around his.

  He lifted her. She wrapped both legs around his hips.

  “Alessandra,” he said in a hot, hard voice.

  She looked at him, her eyes as dark as the sea, and he drove into her.

  She cried out, sank her teeth into his shoulder, and he felt her womb convulse around his dick.

  He rocked into her again. Felt her coming again, and he put one hand between them and caressed her swollen clitoris as he thrust deep inside her.

  She was moaning. Sobbing. Saying his name, Tanner Tanner Tanner again and again and again, and no woman had ever said his name like that, had ever felt like this, had ever made him feel like this, and he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t wait, couldn’t do anything but let go, let go, and soar with her into a place where nothing mattered except this.

  * * *

  Slowly, very slowly, he became aware of things.

  The sound of her breathing. The feel of her against him, her skin silky and hot. The glorious smell of her, of sex and woman.

  He knew he had to move.

  His body was pinning hers to the wall and he was much too heavy for her. His leg ached. It was a miracle it hadn’t given way.

  Yes, but summoning the energy to do anything just didn’t seem possible.

  She sighed, whispered something. His name, maybe. He couldn’t tell, couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of her heart and his.

  And, gradually, the voice in his head saying, Jesus H
. Christ, dude, what did you do?

  “Alessandra. I’m—” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m—“”

  “Do not,” she said fiercely, “do not say you’re sorry.”

  Sorry? Hell, no. How could he be sorry about what had just happened? Slowly, he lowered her to her feet and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “I meant I was kind of fast. A little rough.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. And if I was—”

  “Rough,” she said, her expression as innocent as a schoolgirl’s. “A little fast.”

  His expression was glum.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then,” she said, pushing a lock of dark hair off his forehead, “I guess we’ll just have to do this all over again. So I can decide if you were too fast and too rough, I mean.”

  His expression changed in a heartbeat; he gave a low, sexy laugh.

  She could almost feel her toes curl.

  “An experiment,” he said. “Terrific. I’ve always loved science.”

  His arms tightened around her. He kissed her, one big hand at the base of her spine, the other cupping the back of her head. The kiss was slow and tender, but when she sighed and rose to him, he hardened against her.

  Her lips curved against his.

  “Experiment time,” she whispered.

  Tanner scooped her into his arms and carried her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. He stepped into the glass shower stall and put her on her feet. There were five sprays in the stall, one overhead, the others set into the tile walls.

  He turned on the one above them and a gentle fall of warm water cascaded from the ceiling.

  “Nice,” Alessandra said.

  “Much better than nice.”

  She smiled up at him.

  God, she was so beautiful.

  Water beaded her dark lashes, glittered like jewels in her hair.

  Need for her pounded through him, but he wasn’t going to make love to her here. He wanted her in that big bed in the adjoining room, her golden hair spread over the pillow, her body open to his touch and taste…

  He groaned, swung away from her, reached blindly for a container of body wash on the built-in corner shower shelves, filled his hand with a silky liquid that smelled of vanilla and turned her away from him.