* * *
Maddy paced the floor of Ricardo's condominium with a tiny bundle in the crook of one arm. After an hour of fussing, baby Isabella had finally ceased to fret, lapsing into a peaceful sleep. If only Maddy's churning thoughts would also subside.
She worried about Ricardo and his prognosis. What if his injuries kept him from returning to work? She'd just gotten to know him and rely on him. She couldn't possibly get the land and water samples required for the lab on her own. Why, oh why, had he wanted to know what the soldiers were up to in the first place?
Perhaps Lucía would have some answers when she returned, which ought to be any minute now. Maddy had been watching the baby for several hours already.
Carrying Isabella to the bassinette beside her parents' bed, Maddy lowered her gingerly into it, and paused to tuck a small, soft blanket around her. Isabella, still so tiny, so vulnerable, slept on.
Resting her hands on her thighs, Maddy studied the baby's perfection with no small amount of wonder. Isabella had inherited her father's long eyelashes. In her sleep, they feathered her plump cheeks. A dark wedge of hair topped her round head. Her chin sported a tiny cleft. Her tiny hands were a masterpiece of craftsmanship, right down to the perfect little fingernails.
A seedling of maternal feelings rooted into Maddy's heart, catching her off guard. For the first time in her life, she wondered what her own child might look like and how she would raise it.
Not here, she assured herself, suppressing a protective shudder. Her daughter wouldn't grow up anywhere close to danger. Her lips twisted at the irony that she now understood her father's reluctance to let her leave the safety of the United States.
The sound of a key jiggling in the lock pulled Maddy's attention from the baby. Lucía was home at last. Easing out of the bedroom, she found Ricardo's wife closing the door behind her, looking careworn and more than a little frazzled at having left her baby for so long.
"How was she?" Lucia asked, depositing a bag on the sofa and peering past Maddy toward the bedroom.
"She was an angel," Maddy assured her in Spanish. "She fell asleep after I changed her diaper and fed her the formula you left me."
"Oh, good. Thank you so much."
Noting the lines of worry etched into the young woman's face, Maddy asked how Ricardo fared.
Lucía grimaced. "His tail bone was shattered from his sudden fall," she relayed. "They'll perform surgery tomorrow to remove the chipped pieces. After that, he should heal quickly. His face will be scarred but still handsome." Her voice wavered and she forced a smile.
Maddy laid a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder. "I'm so sorry this happened to him, Lucía."
"It's not your fault. He's been through worse. It's a small thing."
But one that shouldn't have happened in the first place. "I don't understand why he got out of the Jeep at all. It's not his job to protect those oil wells."
Lucía's expression became impossible to read. "Ricardo is too curious for his own good," she said, dismissing the subject with a wave of her hand.
"I guess he is," Maddy relented. "Well, I'll leave you to rest now."
"Thank you again for watching the baby."
"Any time." With a swift hug for Lucía, she headed to the door. "Good night. I'll check on you in the morning." She would also be calling GEF headquarters to see whether they expected her to carry on her work alone.
As she slipped into the balmy night air, Maddy's gaze went straight to the lights of the military installation across the street. A yearning to see Sam stitched through her. He'd been so concerned and tender toward her this afternoon. She thought about her slip of the tongue when she'd mentioned the color of the terrorist leader's eyes. The explosion had obviously addled her wits, causing her to say too much. Or did she feel guilty for perhaps contributing to Ricardo's injury by giving the terrorists the nitric acid without questioning what they intended to use it for?
Either way, she wanted desperately for Sam and his SEALs to halt the terrorists' evil intent.
With her emotions in a tumult, she turned toward her own front door, a mere ten steps away. Uncertainty assailed her as she mounted the stoop and reached for the door knob.
What if the terrorist leader had glimpsed her in the Jeep today the same way she'd thought she'd recognized a couple of the men? Even from a distance, her light hair and fair skin would have given her away. He would only assume upon seeing her so soon that she'd broken her promise not to tell a soul about the incident at the lab. That being the case, what would stop him from hunting her down and killing her as he'd threatened?
With Ricardo's Jeep parked right off the main road, advertising her location, it would be so easy for him to find out where she lived. Except she wasn't the only person living in this duplex, which meant that Lucía and her baby were in danger, as well.
Stricken by that terrifying thought, Maddy fumbled to unlock her door. As she edged into her dark house, flicking on the lights, the vision of a man sprawled across her couch brought a cry to her lips. He jerked awake at the frightened sound, sitting up and planting his feet on the floor in less than a second.
Chapter 7
"Sam!" Maddy's runaway heart slowed to a more acceptable tempo. As she sagged against the door, Sam swiped the sleep from his eyes then lowered his hand to study her intently, taking note of the relief she couldn't hide.
"You were expecting someone else?" he mildly guessed.
Did nothing escape his notice? "No," she refuted, shutting and locking the door behind her and assuming a more assured demeanor. "You caught me by surprise, is all. How'd you get in?"
He ignored the question completely. "Where have you been?" he asked.
What was this about? She gestured next door. "I was babysitting so Lucía could visit her husband."
"Ah."
She got the impression that he already knew that.
"How's he doing?"
"He has to have surgery tomorrow to remove the broken pieces of his tailbone. He should be fine after that."
Sam nodded. "That's good," he said.
"Why are you here?" If he stuck around for long she was afraid she'd throw herself in his arms and blurt the truth about the lab incident.
"I want to ask you something." He pushed abruptly to his feet and approached her.
Maddy had to lock her knees to keep from backing up. Sam's jaw, darkened by stubble, made him look doubly appealing. Since the night he'd extracted her from Matamoros, his hair had grown significantly. The glossy waves curled around his ears and at the back of his neck, making her itch to run her fingers through it. Recalling the blistering kiss they'd shared the other night, her pulse ticked upward, accompanied by a rise in her internal temperature.
"Ask me what?" she asked in a huskier voice. He stood within six inches of her, so close that she could smell his alluring, purely masculine scent.
He held her gaze captive. "What really happened the other day at GEF's lab?"
A muted roar filled her ears. So, he had noticed her slip of the tongue earlier—of course he had. And now he wanted an honest answer. Unfortunately, she had no ready lie available. "I can't tell you," she whispered.
He would tell her father who would insist she leave the country, and she wasn't ready to go. Not yet—not when the effects of the oil wells were just beginning to crop up. Not before she could prove their effect on the environment.
Sam's eyes narrowed accusingly. "You came face-to-face with the men who killed the security guard didn't you?"
The awful memory stormed her thoughts. She could feel the blood draining from her face, leaving the top of her head suddenly cold.
"What happened?" Sam's voice roughened. His caught her upper arms in hands that were like manacles and lightly shook her as if that would loosen her lips.
Maddy shook her head. "I can't tell you" she insisted, her voice rising with distress.
His dark green eyes flashed. "Your partner Ricardo almost got killed today, and you can't
tell me what you know about the men who did it?"
His quick temper made her own temper rise, but she thought about Lucía and the baby, potential targets to terrorists looking for Maddy, and she shook her head. "No."
With a scowl of frustration, Sam dropped his hands from her shoulders and whirled away. He stalked to the nearest window and stood there peering outside for a moment. Maddy held her breath wondering at his next move.
Suddenly, he yanked the curtains shut so that no one outside could see in. Maddy's heart thudded uncertainly. He swiveled on the balls of his feet, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket as he approached again.
"Fine," he said, extending a printout of headshots of what she assumed were high-profile terrorists. "Don't tell me anything. Just point with your finger if you recognize any of these men."
In dread, Maddy eyed the swarthy, bearded faces in the photographs before her, fully expecting to recognize her nemesis. When she came to the last picture, she started again at the top, certain she had overlooked him. On her second pass, she stifled a gasp as the scarred face of a heavily bearded soldier snared her attention. The man in the next photo also looked familiar.
"Point," Sam urged, watching her reaction closely.
Maddy raised a reluctant finger and pointed to the man who'd wanted the leader to kill her. "Him," she said. "And him," she added, deciding that the second man had also been present in the lab that day.
"Only two?" Sam persisted. "There were at least four intruders."
Maddy skimmed the printout one more time. "The other two aren't here."
"What about the one with the blue-green eyes?"
She looked again. "Not here." She would have recognized his picture anywhere.
"But these two were?"
"Yes." She wondered what terrible event she had just set into motion by breaking her word. "He said he would kill me if I told anyone," she added, suddenly afraid.
Sam gave a blistering curse. "No one's going to kill you," he vowed. Lifting her chin with his fingertips, he forced her to look him in the eye. "Do you hear me? These terrorists aren't going to get anywhere near you."
She nodded, wanting very badly to believe him.
Curling a hand around her elbow, he drew her toward the couch. "Have a seat," he offered. "I need you to tell me everything."
* * *
By the time Maddy had concluded her story, Sam's temples throbbed. Hearing her describe how she'd stood toe-to-toe with Hezbollah terrorists and lived to tell about it made him want to throw her over his shoulder and run for the airfield, where her father would be waiting in his private jet to take her home.
Maddy's sharp fingernails dug into his forearm. "Don't you dare think you can drag me out of here the way you did in Matamoros," she warned.
He exhaled forcefully, a harsh punctuation of sound that betrayed his frustration. "If anything happens to you," he added, "your father will ruin my career."
"He would never do that. Besides, nothing's going to happen." She sounded far more certain of that now than she had just minutes ago. "You just said yourself that you were going after these men, regardless of my description, and you expect to catch them soon," she added with a hopeful expression.
He had just told her that. Finding his hand on her shoulder, he lifted it to stroke her silky hair while considering her profile. The fact that the terrorists had let her live in the first place was a good sign. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he said, meaning that he wouldn't hesitate to remove her from the country at the least indication of danger.
But her small smile of gratitude, accompanied by a pretty flush, told him that she'd taken his words to mean that he would protect her. That purely feminine response summoned an overwhelming desire to do just that—to stand between her and whatever harm might come her way.
He grew suddenly conscious of her thigh touching his. His gaze slid lower, snagging on the neckline if her thin cotton blouse, the one she'd substituted for the bloodstained top she'd worn earlier. He could just make out the curve of her breasts, lifted by the bra she was wearing. Even through the added fabric, her nipples played peek-a-boo, making it hard for him to keep his thoughts pure.
"I should go," he heard himself say. It was late. And in three hours, his platoon would pile into several Humvees and drive toward the Hezbollah camp to relieve Charlie Platoon's reconnaissance. He could certainly use the sleep between now and then to keep his senses sharp.
Maddy's face fell. Her gold-tipped lashes swept downward, covering stormy eyes that betrayed want and worry.
Oh, what the hell. Stifling the doubts in his head, Sam tipped her chin up and crushed his mouth to hers. Her groan of relief sealed his decision to stick around a little longer. He hadn't intended for this to happen, but she was just so damned vulnerable and—damn it—he was only human.
The brush of Maddy's breasts against his chest proved irresistible. Gathering her closer, he filled his hands with her alluring curves until the blood stormed his veins and his senses demanded release.
Without a word, he swept her off the couch, carrying her in his arms to the dark bedroom. Keeping the lights out, he shouldered his way through the door and kicked it shut behind him. A platinum moon peeked through the curtains revealing an unmade double bed. The room smelled like the intoxicating perfume that was uniquely Maddy's. It doubled his temptation to stay. He lowered her onto the rumpled sheets where the moonlight found reflection in her eyes.
"Last chance," he warned, hovering over her.
By way of an answer, she pulled his mouth to hers, parting her lips, and kissing him with an open invitation to take it all the way.
Christ, he loved how sweet she tasted, how responsively she kissed, with a single-mindedness that made him wonder for a moment if she didn't have an agenda at hand other than just forgetting the events of that day.
But then he felt her working to part the buttons on her blouse, and none of that seemed to matter as he helped to expose her breasts. They were everything he remembered and more—soft and plump and tipped with perky, pink nipples. He lowered his head with a groan to close his mouth over a velvety peak. The sweet soft texture inflamed him.
She squirmed beneath him, intent on shimmying out of her shorts. Distracted, he paused to help her. A glimpse of plain cotton panties set his mind at ease. "You're wearing underwear these days," he remarked.
"It was really hot in Matamoros."
"Feels pretty hot here too," he said, watching her toe off her sandals and push her panties over her hips. His mouth went dry as he helped her draw them down her long, shapely legs.
Fully naked, she settled back against the pillows and arched luxuriantly, seeming totally at ease with her body—then again, why wouldn't she be considering how good she looked?
"You're beautiful," he heard himself say. Beautiful and every bit as dangerous as she'd been the night of the party at her father's house. "You should go home, Maddy," he said without thinking. "You don't belong in this place."
His words turned her rigid, making him want to recall them right away. For an awful moment, he was certain she would thrust him off the bed while ordering him to go to hell. She lurched upward and he braced himself for the worst. Instead of pushing him away, however, she pulled him closer, groping lower to release the button of his fly.
She tackled his zipper with gusto, keeping all words locked in his throat as she freed his erection. Her cool fingers encircled him, stroking him so sweetly that he almost felt like weeping.
"You want me to leave right now?" she inquired in a husky voice.
Her unpredictability kept him mute. Desire shackled him with invisible, silken restraints. The realization that she could wield tremendous power over him had him pulling reluctantly from her touch.
He lowered his mouth again to her tempting nipples, determined to discover what pleased her. With Maddy firmly on the receiving end, he would retain the upper hand, fully in charge.
* * *
M
addy yielded to the magic of the moment. I can't believe this is happening. After months of dreaming about Sam Sasseville, he was finally doing all those things she'd fantasized about, suckling her nipples into stiffness, blowing cooling air across the sensitive tips then drawing them intently into his hot mouth.
She sank her hands into his hair, reveling in its crisp, silky texture. He seemed in no hurry to join her in a naked state. Only when she arched her spine in silent invitation did he shift his weight lower. Raking his teeth over the curve of her ribs, he followed the sweep of his open hand across the plain of her abdomen toward her hips. Maddy lurched from his prickly jaw, unable to contain a shout of laughter.
His eyes glinted up at her. He neither laughed nor smiled but remained intently serious, sliding off the end of the bed to catch her feet in his hands.
She tried to snatch them from his grasp. "Oh, please, no."
He held her ankles fast, kissing the arch of each foot and making her gasp.
"Is this some kind of kinky Navy SEAL torture?"
He didn't answer. He was too busy pressing scalding, open mouthed kisses up her calves, toward the backs of her knees, and then to her inner thighs. She could scarcely breathe for the expectation filling her lungs.
"I'll tell you anything you want, just, please, have mercy."
And then he did, spearing his tongue into the swollen, feverish folds at the junction of her thighs. Maddy's hips came off the bed. She caught back another peal of laughter, one that ended in a moan as she threaded her fingers through his hair, riding the pleasure that his skilled mouth lavished on her. Gazing down, she was struck by the erotic vision of his dark head between her pale legs. Dear God.
He muttered something sensual and beautiful in Spanish, but all she caught was querida—darling. In mere seconds, Maddy was fisting the sheet beneath her, out of her mind with pleasure. Heat breached the surface of her skin. Sensations too sweet to be contained bubbled over in an upwelling of ecstasy. She came in a powerful rush, riding the crest of sweet surcease for what seemed a lifetime before her pleasure slowly ebbed.
Danger Close Page 9
