The Glock he’d strapped under his jacket pressed into him. Well, he wasn’t completely relaxed. Menas could show up uninvited anytime, but the merc wouldn’t touch another hair on Jane’s head. Ever. Sullivan’s gaze followed a line of bright pink up and over the thick tree line surrounding his property. “I come out here when I need to get away from everything and everyone, or my back needs actual support from a bed instead of my office sofa night after night. Clears my head.” A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth as he took another drink of his coffee. This cabin had saved his life and his sanity more than once over the years, given him the solitude he craved. He lowered his voice. “Now, if I could get rid of you, it’d be perfect.”
The muscles around her spine tightened as she rammed her elbow back into his solar plexus, and Sullivan couldn’t help but flinch. The woman was strong, a lot stronger than she looked, the kind of woman he’d be proud to have at his side in the middle of a fight. Jane tipped her head back to meet his eyes, a gut-wrenching smile on her lips. “Tell more jokes like that. I’ve got all night.”
“Jokes? What are you talking about? I was completely serious,” he said.
“All right.” Jane shoved away from him, hurrying across the snow-covered deck as flakes quickly replaced the ones her footsteps disrupted. Doubling over, she scooped up a handful of snow and packed it between her hands. “You want to play it that way? Let’s do this.”
She wound her arm back and let the snowball fly.
Sullivan saw it coming but couldn’t move fast enough without spilling his coffee. He dived to the other side of the bench, but it was too late. Snow plastered against his neck and melted down into his heavy jacket, setting his skin on fire. Coffee surged over the edge of his mug and spilled down his jeans. A small growl reverberated through his chest. Slowly, carefully, he set the coffee down, stood and brushed off the remnants of pure white snow.
“Are you sure you want to go down this path, Captain?” Taking a single step forward, Sullivan mentally prepared his attack, always thinking ahead to the next move and the one after that. “Because I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’ve been known to handle myself in tough situations. Some fairly recently. And I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I played varsity softball in high school and college, even helped win the army’s annual softball tournament while on tour. I think I can take care of myself.” Jane tossed another ball of snow a few inches up in the air and caught it bare-handed. “Unless you’re scared to take me on?”
“Oh, you’re going down.” Sullivan lunged.
Her eyes widened a split second before she turned tail and ran as fast as she could for the tree line. He appreciated the view as high-pitched laughter drifted over the deep snowbanks she tried plowing through, but Jane couldn’t outrun him. Hour after hour, he’d trained in this forest, mentally mapped out every tree, every rock, anywhere the enemy could hide. She didn’t have a chance. Snow kicked up around her as she darted toward the trees, and time seemed to slow.
All his life he’d fought for control. Relentless command over his body, his mind, his life. Growing up in a psychopath’s house demanded nothing less, especially for Marrok’s sake. But it was the military that had beat self-reliance into him. Nobody would control him, no one would hurt him like his father had hurt their family. But the warmth blossoming in his chest right now wasn’t under his control. The second Jane had broken into his office, something had changed.
Four days. That was all it’d taken for her to melt his steel heart. Saving his life in the wilderness, putting her own at risk for Elliot when the fire broke out in Menas’s apartment... None of it had lined up with her reputation. Could’ve been intentional, Jane’s way of going the extra mile to secure his services, but Sullivan’s instincts said that side of her never really existed in the first place. It’d been her defense mechanism, just as solitude had been his. Sullivan took a deep breath. Dozens of men had tried to stop his heart, but Jane could actually hurt him.
The thought knotted a tight fist of anxiety in his chest, but that didn’t stop Sullivan from balling a handful of snow and nailing Jane in the middle of the back. The stitches in his arm stretched, but he pushed the discomfort to the back of his mind. She’d started this fight, he’d finish it. Sullivan bent over to gather more snow, but when he’d straightened, Jane had disappeared.
The smile pulling at his mouth vanished. Dead silence surrounded him, the tree line clear. He struggled to level out his racing heartbeat but took a deep breath. Vanilla infused the light breeze cutting through the trees. She hadn’t gone far. Darting for the patch of snow he’d last seen her, Sullivan tracked a set of footsteps toward the tree line. If Menas had gotten a hold of her...
A wall of coat-padded woman tackled him to the ground.
His heart rocketed into his throat as Jane’s soft groan transformed into a trail of laughter and eased the tension hardening his muscles. He stared up at her, those sharp features surrounded by pinks, greens and blues in the dancing night sky. How had she managed to sneak up on him like that? He was a SEAL. Nothing got past him.
“Easy there, soldier. You don’t want to make any sudden moves.” Straddling him, Jane raised a snow-filled hand. Her smile lit up his insides and chased the remnants of the small adrenaline rush from his veins. “This snowball is deadly cold, and I’m prepared to use it.”
Scanning the spot where he’d seen her positioned last, Sullivan rested his head into the snow. The sensitive skin on the back of his neck burned as he fought to catch his breath. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Sneak attack from the trees.” She’d lowered her voice as though she were telling him a secret, those perfect, kissable lips spread wide. Straightening, Jane washed the smile from her features. “Silence!”
Setting one hand on his chest, Jane let drops of melted snow fall against his neck. The beads of frigid water panicked his nervous system, and he struggled underneath Jane as though he couldn’t bear the thought of torture. “I warned you, Sullivan Bishop. I am very good at this game and I’m serious about winning. Now, it’s my turn to ask the questions.”
An interrogation. Interesting.
“You got me. I’ll tell you everything.” Sullivan raised his hands in surrender, but with her strong thighs gripping his hips—every man’s dream—he had no intention of cooperating with her demands. No. He was going to drag this out as long as he could.
“Good. And you shall be rewarded for your cooperation.” She tossed the snowball to the ground and fitted her hand around his neck. Cold penetrated deep under his jacket as she leaned in close, her lips mere inches from his, but Sullivan didn’t dare move. “Tell me, if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”
He rested his palms on the tops of her knees, the denim covering her legs thin enough he could feel her body heat. The strong muscles under her clothing urged him to slide his hands higher, but Sullivan kept himself in control. He wasn’t an animal. He wouldn’t take until she offered. However long that might be. “I’d be stupid to move an inch right now.”
“Yes, you would be, but that’s not what I asked. And now you must be punished.” The edges of her mouth turned upward, and before he understood what she’d meant, she held another handful of snow over his face and neck. Freezing water trailed under his coat and T-shirt, and Sullivan had had enough.
He maneuvered one foot behind hers and bucked with the opposite hip. Jane fell to the side, and he rolled on top of her, pinning her into the snow. He was back in control. And she was his. Snowflakes peppered their clothing, but soon they’d be too cold to do anything but run for the closest hot shower. Maybe together. He held his weight off her, careful of her wounds, grip loose around her wrists, giving her the chance to escape if she wanted. But the surprised look in those hazel eyes said she planned on staying right where she was. “Now it’s my turn to ask the questions.�
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“All right,” she said. “Shoot.”
“Are you going back into the army when this investigation is over?” He shouldn’t have asked, didn’t have any right, but Sullivan hadn’t been able to think of anything else since he’d checked her out of the hospital a few hours ago.
Any evidence of playfulness disappeared from her features. “I haven’t thought about it. After what happened at the factory, I didn’t think I’d make it out alive.”
Nothing but their combined breathing filled the silence, as a fresh wave of snow fell from the sky. Hell. He hadn’t meant to resurrect those memories. The past few minutes with her had put them, and the man responsible, to the back of his mind. Freeing him from responsibility, revenge, rage. Sullivan lightened his hold on her and pulled back to give her some room.
“You are not what has happened to you, Jane.” He tamped down on the strange ache growing in the middle of his chest. Sullivan had never been the relationship type, but right now, with Jane pinned underneath him, he could see himself following her down that path when this was over. If she let him. Because the thought of losing her in the middle of that highway had nearly killed him. “You’re what you choose to become. Remember that.”
Her mouth parted, breathing slightly uneven. “Are we really going after Christopher?”
“I like to finish what I start,” he said.
Jane pushed her weight onto her elbows to sit up, with him still straddled across her legs. A shiver rode across her chest. “Do you think we’ll survive?”
“I don’t know.” Better to tell her the truth, but as her features fell, Sullivan let the urge to protect her rage through him. His hands fisted in her thick jacket, pulling her toward him. “But I’m sure as hell not going down without a fight.”
* * *
SULLIVAN BISHOP WASN’T the knight in shining armor, the one who had never been to war. He was the knight with tarnished and dented armor who knew how to win the fight and keep her safe. He’d taken Christopher and his band of mercenaries down once before. He could do it again.
But what if he couldn’t or, worse, didn’t survive?
Her gaze snapped to his. Jane clenched her jaw, refusing to let her thoughts sprint down that path. Because, if she was completely honest with herself, she’d rather run from Christopher for the rest of her life than let Sullivan become another casualty in this mess.
“Jane?” Concern deepened his tone.
Forget the frigid temperatures and the falling snow. Her body urged her to close the small space between them. She wanted to kiss him. More than wanted. Needed to. Puffs of frozen air solidified in front of her mouth. And the longer Jane studied his shadow of a beard, the sea-blue eyes that revealed his true intensions, the way his forehead creased when he was thinking something over, that need strengthened. “Don’t talk. Just...”
Heat spread behind her sternum, lifting her up, pressing her against him. The burns across her back protested, but the dull sting wouldn’t stop her. Only the sound of their combined exhales reached her ears, her heartbeat steady, calm. Cold seeping through her jeans demanded her attention, but anticipation for the feeling of his lips against hers—of finally tasting him—drowned out her body’s survival instincts.
Sullivan’s patience disappeared.
Gripping the back of her neck, he crushed his mouth to hers. The cold reaching down into her bones melted away as the rich taste of him spread across her tongue. Black coffee, peppermint and something smoother. Like a dark scotch. The elaborate combination heightened her senses to another level. The pressure at the back of her neck lightened, but Jane didn’t move away. Tilting her head to the side, she opened wider for him, invited him to take more. Take all of her.
But Sullivan took his time. Nibbling, nuzzling, going slow. So slow. Her insides flooded with need as he nipped at her bottom lip, a spike of desire rushing through her blood. He threaded his fingers through the nap of hair at the base of her neck, pulling her harder against him. Her nerve endings fired in little electric pulses each time his lips moved against hers. The aurora above her, the snow below her, Sullivan around her. Jane never wanted to move.
But the Alaskan wilderness wasn’t kind.
A shiver chased across her skin, and Sullivan pulled away. A burst of laughter rumbled deep in his chest. Didn’t matter she’d worn her thickest coat from the duffel bag Elliot had dropped off. He ran his palms up and down her arms to generate some heat. “You’re freezing.”
Danger loomed ahead, but the man straddling her in the middle of his snow-covered property smiled. Her heart rate kicked up, and it had nothing to do with her mind telling her this couldn’t happen. Sullivan Bishop, former navy SEAL burdened with years of death and destruction, looked happy for the first time since Jane had broken into his office. Melted snow had penetrated through her clothing but, in that moment, she didn’t care. The world had changed. He’d changed. And she couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t know how. You’re like a furnace. Your body heat could keep us both alive for days.”
“Yeah, but it was yours that kept me alive out here the first time.” He pushed to his feet, offering her a hand to help her up. “Which I intend to repay you for.”
“You’ve saved my life plenty since I pulled you out of the snow.” She reached for him without hesitation, sliding her fingers across his calloused palms. Not harsh, but worked. Like him. The colors of the northern lights blended together as Sullivan pulled her into his chest, but they bled into the dark night sky the longer they stood together. Mother Nature’s show had faded, but Jane would never forget these last few minutes. Never forget Sullivan when this ended. She fingered the zipper on his dark coat. “But if you want to pay me back, I have a couple things in mind.”
Jane tugged on his jacket until his mouth met hers once again. She wasn’t gentle. She wasn’t careful. She meant to conquer, to banish the last few days. Pushing every bullet missed, every patch of skin burned, every second she felt like she was being watched into her kiss, Jane reveled in the feeling of lightness overwhelming her body. She breathed easier, sinking into Sullivan as she broke their connection. “That is, if you’re up for it.”
“I have a lot of unchecked frustration built up from the last few days. You might be the perfect person to help with that.” The predatory desire raging in his eyes bolted straight to her core. Another round of heated arousal flooded her system as Sullivan wrapped his large hand around hers and tugged her after him. Snow kicked up into her boots, but Jane didn’t slow as they vaulted up the front porch stairs.
A wall of warm air slammed into her, and Sullivan kicked the door closed behind them. Then his hands were on her. Pulling down the zipper on her coat, shoving the thick layers to the floor. His coat fell next, as Jane kicked off her boots, lost in his masculine scent, the mountain that was his rock-solid body. Her heart pounded loud in her ears, but nothing like in the factory as she’d run for her life. She was safe here. Sullivan was safe.
“You should get out of those wet clothes.” He dropped his mouth to her neck, licking, nipping, hiking her arousal to levels she’d never experienced before. Her insides burned, every inch of her skin aware of only one thing: him.
But Jane planted her hand on his chest. All of this, the northern lights, the snowball fight, the kiss, it was everything she could hope for. But what about when it was over? Her leave was due to end in a week, and Sullivan had a business—a team—to run. Neither of those things left much room to explore this beyond tonight, but maybe that didn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe it was for the best. Because no matter how many people she’d cut herself off from, those who got close to her always ended up getting hurt. She stared straight up at him, almost a foot shorter but determined to hold her ground. “Before we do this, I need to know something.”
“Ask me.” He slid his hand over hers, his calluses scraping against her oversensitized skin. Sincerity co
oled the flood of desire in his gaze. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. No more secrets between us. I trust you.”
“You do?” Her throat went dry, but the steady thump of his heart against her hand chased the surprise to the back of her mind.
“Yes.” Sullivan stared down at her hand on his chest, stroking the back of her hand with his fingers. “You might’ve blackmailed me into helping you, but I’m glad you did.” A laugh rumbled under her hand, and Jane couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.” His hand on her hip pinned her in place. “You already know my secrets. I don’t have to hide from you like I do from my team. I don’t have to be so controlled. It’s...freeing.”
The backs of her knees weakened, and Jane fisted his shirt to keep her balance. “Wow. You really know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”
“That’s the plan.” A gut-twisting smile deepened the laugh lines around his mouth. Sullivan spread his fingers across the bare skin beneath her T-shirt. His touch battled the waves of debilitating coldness and won. In seconds, he’d warmed her more than an hour-long hot shower ever could have. “But what did you need to ask me?”
Ask him? Right. Shaking her head, Jane fought to focus over the desperate urge to mold herself to him. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, that knot of concern holding her tight. People might’ve gotten hurt because of her in the past, but Sullivan had made it perfectly clear he could take care of himself, had even proved it over the last few days. So maybe letting herself have feelings for the former navy SEAL she’d blackmailed wouldn’t get him killed.
Jane checked the distance to the single bathroom over her shoulder, then turned back to him. “I need to know how long it’s going to take for you to get me into a hot shower.”
Faster than she thought possible, Sullivan buried his forearms behind her knees and lifted her into his arms without regard for the stitches in his arm. The cabin blurred in her vision, but he remained steady, a constant. The warm swirl of desire in his eyes tightened Jane’s hold on his T-shirt. “Why don’t we find out?”
Rules in Blackmail Page 12
