Hot Rebel

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Mine. The word echoed in his brain over and over. Mine, mine, mine.

  “Doing just great, Ryan. Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “Anytime, angel. Anytime.”

  Victoria pulled the wheels of the chair backward, rolling away from the bed. “I should go.”

  “No, sweetheart,” someone else said. “Stick around for a while.”

  “You don’t have to leave because of us.”

  “Plenty of room for all of us here.”

  Victoria laughed. “No, really, it’s fine. We were done anyway.”

  He wanted to say there was no fucking way they were done, but how the hell was he going to do that with all these guys here and him as weak as a newborn kitten?

  Flash rolled Victoria to the door. Then he bent and said something that made her giggle right before she disappeared around the corner.

  Nick saw red as Flash came back over. The rest of the guys shuffled their feet or stared at the monitors. Someone turned on the television.

  Nick sucked in a breath. If anyone said anything to him about how hot she was, Nick was going to pull himself out of this bed and clock them.

  But then Iceman whistled. “What the fuck did you do to her, dude?”

  *

  Two days after Victoria left Nick’s hospital room, there was a knock on her door. She’d moved to the VOQ to be near Emily since she wasn’t in need of hourly monitoring anymore. Her leg hurt like a son of a bitch, but it was healing. She’d been lucky that it was a clean shot through the outer fleshy part.

  The bullet hadn’t hit bone or major blood vessels, so while it hurt and she had to take it easy—and use crutches now—she’d be good as new in a few weeks.

  Thank God.

  Her heart, however, wouldn’t fare as well. Stupid her wanting to know if Nick had launched himself at Ahmed for a different reason than just because he’d been trained to do it. Stupid her for pushing him for an answer when he clearly didn’t have one she’d want to hear.

  “Come in,” she called, figuring her visitor was Emily. Her sister was quiet and intense lately, but she was doing remarkably well considering the circumstances. There was still a lot that Emily wasn’t telling her, but she thought with time it would come out.

  Time and distance. She needed to get Emily away from Qu’rim for her healing to continue, but she didn’t know when that was going to happen.

  The door opened, but it wasn’t Emily. It was Nick.

  Her heart thumped at the sight of him looking so big and well. She wanted to get up and fling her arms around him, but what good would that do? It would only embarrass her further. Pitiful little virgin girl, falling for the first man to show her how good sex could be. It was like a silly romance novel or something. Since when did that happen in real life?

  Nick frowned. “You didn’t come back.”

  She told herself to stay calm. “No, I didn’t.”

  He walked inside and shut the door. His arm was in a sling, but he didn’t have to hobble the way she did. He looked remarkably fit for a man who’d seemed to be at death’s door only a few days ago.

  “Why not?”

  “I, uh, wasn’t sure I should.”

  He walked over and stood above her, looking formidable and irritated. “I thought we were friends, Victoria.”

  Oh God, could he torture her any worse? She clasped her hands in her lap and looked away. “We are friends.”

  He reached down and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You’re pissed at me.”

  She worked to keep her expression blank. “Why do you say that? I’m not pissed. I’m fine.”

  “Fine? Yeah, you act fucking fine—why won’t you talk to me? Tell me the truth?”

  Anger built inside her, billowing and rolling until it had to break free. She slapped his hand away.

  “You’re a complete dickhead, Nick Brandon, and you don’t even fucking know why!” She pushed herself upright, grabbed her crutches, fumbling with them and nearly falling in the process, then put some distance between them. Then she turned and shot him a glare.

  He was looking at her like she’d grown an extra head. “Why is it I never understand what the hell is going on with you? You’re the one person I can’t figure out no matter how much I try.”

  Oh, that did it. “My God, you must be one of the densest men on the planet! And I am most certainly one of the stupidest women. You swagger into my life with your badass attitude, your”—she waved her hands around—“ridiculously muscular body, and your complete and total decency as a human being, and then you talk and talk, and I fall for all your bullshit charm. Next thing I know, I’m all over you, wanting you like I’ve never wanted any man before, and you’re rocking my world and making me feel amazing—”

  He was looking at her with big eyes, and she suddenly felt so stupid and so defeated, like she was utterly pitiful and he was just now learning it. No, she wasn’t cool. She wasn’t in control, and she damn sure wasn’t getting out of this with her heart intact.

  She sighed and plopped down on the bed. “The problem, Preacher Boy, is that I like you. Really like you. As in I want more of you, and I want it pretty much all the time. When I thought you might die out there, I prayed that you wouldn’t. I told God I’d rather he take me than you because at least I wouldn’t have to know what it was like to live in a world without you in it.”

  She looked up, found him watching her intently. She laughed. “How fucked up is that, right?”

  He looked shell-shocked. “Jesus, Victoria.”

  “I know. It’s absolutely crazy, but I fell for you. And maybe it’s good you don’t feel that way about me, because look at what happened to Emily when she went chasing after a man. I can’t—I won’t—be that incomplete without you. I’ll figure it out, so you just turn around and walk out that door and congratulate yourself on a lucky escape.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Nick’s heart was pounding out a crazy rhythm. She was sitting there on that bed, looking so beautiful it hurt, and telling him she loved him. At least that’s what he thought she was saying, because she hadn’t actually said it.

  He’d heard it before, usually from women he’d dated for a few weeks, or sometimes from a woman he’d just fucked. Those women were usually tipsy and a little too effusive with their praise.

  Once those words were said, he was gone. It was better that way.

  But now it was odd because Victoria hadn’t said the words, but he wanted her to. Wanted to hear them damn bad, in fact.

  “I didn’t want you to die out there either.”

  He hadn’t made any bargains with God, but he’d made them with himself. Get her out of danger, no matter the cost. Take the bullet meant for her if it came down to it. Because he had to. Because he couldn’t contemplate doing any differently.

  And it wasn’t just the job. It was her. He wanted her to stay with him—and he needed her to go so he could breathe again.

  “That’s sweet, Nick. I appreciate your saying that, but it’s not quite the same, is it?” She sighed. “I wasn’t very specific with God, I’m afraid. I said I’d rather not live in a world without you in it. I didn’t say I wanted to live with you if you survived, and I guess I should have. God has a sense of humor.”

  “Go out with me,” he said and then felt ridiculous for saying it. How the hell was that supposed to work? But he had this idea that she’d go back home and he’d see her in the States. Somehow, they’d work it out.

  She blinked at him. And then she laughed. It felt like she’d dug a rusty knife into his heart and twisted.

  “Date you? How am I supposed to do that? You’re in Qu’rim at the moment, and I’m about to head back to the States with my sister. And even then, you live in DC and we’ll be in New Orleans.” She shook her head. “No, we can’t date. It’s impossible.”

  Sudden anger swirled in his gut. How could she just blow him off when she claimed she loved him, even if she hadn’t said the words?

>   “What do you want me to do? Propose? Is that what it takes to get you to be with me? Goddammit, fine.” He dropped to his knees while she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Hell, maybe he had, because what the fuck was he doing? He’d just asked her to date him and now he was fucking proposing? How insane did that make him, especially since he was trying to be noble and let her be with Emily?

  “Nick—”

  Someone rapped on the door, startling them both. He got up and went over to yank it open.

  “Interrupting something, soldier?” Colonel Mendez stood there with an arched eyebrow and a knowing look on his face.

  “No, sir,” Nick said, pulling the door open wider. His heart was pounding, and he felt like an asshole. A confused, contradictory asshole. “I was just leaving.”

  Mendez’s eyebrow lifted a fraction higher. “Why don’t you stay? You’ll want to hear this too.”

  He strode inside, and Nick closed the door. Victoria was flushed, but she did her best to look cool and calm.

  Mendez pulled out a chair and sat. Then he looked at Nick until he sat too.

  “Glad I’ve got you both here,” he said. “Thought you should know that Ian Black is gone.”

  Victoria gasped.

  Fury rolled deep in Nick’s gut. After all they’d fucking gone through?

  “He abandoned his compound a few days ago. We sent a team in. There was a server room, but the server was gone. Bastard had a Faraday cage to prevent electronic eavesdropping. This wasn’t just chicken wire wrapped around supports either. Not a surprise, really, but he’s certainly well funded.”

  “Ian’s gone,” Victoria said numbly. Then she laughed. “I guess even if he’d tried to call me first, I wouldn’t know it.”

  They’d both lost their phones in the desert. He’d been issued a new one, but it was a little different for her. Still, she looked like she’d been abandoned by a friend. He hated that she felt that way about Ian Black, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least he knew it had never been more than that.

  “Any idea who he was working for?” Nick asked.

  Mendez leaned forward. “No, but I’m not done trying to figure it out.” He looked pensive for a moment. And then he shook his head. “He left something.”

  Mendez took his phone from his pocket and pressed a couple of buttons. Then he held it out to Nick.

  Nick took it—and his jaw nearly hit the floor. Inside the abandoned Faraday cage was a table that held three vials sitting on top of a small case.

  “The smallpox?” It was unbelievable. Unimaginable.

  “Yes. And there was a note.” Mendez took his phone back and showed Victoria the picture. Then he called up the note and read it. “See this is disposed of, will you? Thanks, Colonel.”

  “I told you he wasn’t dirty,” Victoria said.

  Mendez’s gaze slewed over to her. “Not sure I believe that, Miss Royal. But he’s smart. Letting this into the world isn’t wise, even for someone who only cares about profiting from others’ misfortune.”

  But Nick was focused on something else. “How did he know about us?”

  He didn’t think for one minute that Victoria had told Black. Nor did the colonel, apparently.

  “Good question.” Mendez sat back, tucking his phone into his pocket. “And I plan to get an answer, though it may take some time.” He shot an intense look at Victoria. “You want to help?”

  Nick blinked. Victoria looked taken aback.

  “I… What do you want me to do?”

  “Work for us.”

  “My record…”

  “Fixed.”

  She looked puzzled. And then she looked angry. “Is that only if I work for you? Or is it fixed now and there’s no obligation?”

  He huffed out a breath. “It’s fixed. There’s no obligation.”

  He stood and looked down at her like a stern father. It was the softest look Nick had ever seen him give to anyone. Even Lucky MacDonald hadn’t gotten that soft of a look, and God knew she’d gone through some hell for HOT.

  “You got a raw deal, Victoria. But you’re a helluva shot and we could use you—and yeah, your knowledge of Ian Black. You’d be doing your nation a great service.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m a traitor, or didn’t you know?”

  He laughed. Nick nearly fell out. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the colonel laugh before.

  “You’re as much of a traitor as Brandy here.” He shook his head. “No, you’re a rebel, Miss Royal, not a traitor. There’s a difference. I think you know what it is.”

  She lifted her chin. “And my sister? What’s she?”

  “She’s a woman who’s been through hell. I can’t promise she’s going to have it easy from here on out, but I’ll do my best for her.”

  “And will you do that regardless of my decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He barked a laugh. “You don’t give up, do you? This is why I want you on my team, Victoria. You don’t fucking give up.”

  The colonel turned to Nick. “Solve your differences with this woman, Brandy. We need her.”

  “Sir?”

  He stood and walked over to where Nick sat. “I’m fucking serious. Tell her you’re sorry and beg her to stay. It’s the only sensible course of action.”

  Nick waited until the colonel was gone. Then he looked at Victoria. “Why the fuck does everyone always blame me?”

  *

  He looked adorably confused. She wanted to laugh, but that was rather difficult when your heart was breaking. She got her crutches and stood. She could see him blinking, maybe working up to doing what his colonel had said.

  But there was no way she was going to let him sit here and beg her to stay when he was only doing it because he’d been ordered to do so.

  She wasn’t that pitiful, for God’s sake, though a part of her wanted very much to hear him ask her to stay and mean it.

  “I think you should go,” she said.

  He got to his feet slowly, as if he ached in a thousand places. His expression was intense—confused, pissed, determined.

  “The colonel’s right. We need you. You could work for HOT, do what you’re best at… but I don’t want you to.”

  She closed her eyes. She could almost picture herself there, being one of the best of the best. An elite operator, working at the side of the man she loved. The man who did not love her and didn’t want her there.

  “Emily needs you,” he said. “You should be with her.”

  Victoria opened her eyes, shuttering the pain in her gaze. “I know.”

  His jaw flexed. “I want it to be different, but there’s nothing I can say that would make it worth your while to stay.”

  “No,” she said, her throat aching, “I suppose there’s nothing.”

  Because if it didn’t come from his heart and soul, then it wasn’t enough. Yes, he’d dropped to his knees earlier, and God knows what he would have said if Mendez hadn’t arrived, but it hadn’t been real. It was done out of anger and a need to win, not out of any true feeling. If he felt it, she would know.

  He would know.

  But he didn’t, and that wasn’t good enough for her.

  “You’re a good partner,” he said, “a good shooter.”

  “Thanks.”

  He blew out a harsh breath. “Fuck, Victoria, at least consider seeing me when we’re Stateside. I want to see you. We’ll figure it out.”

  Her heart squeezed. She hopped over to him and steadied herself. Then she laid a hand against his cheek. She hadn’t touched him since that day at the hospital when she’d held his hand. It was like touching a match to dry tinder, because her skin sparked and caught, and her nerve endings sizzled with heat and need.

  His eyes dilated as if he felt the fire too.

  “You’re a good man, Nick. A decent man. I love that you have such strength and passion and that you do the right thing no matter the cost to yourself. But I can’t be with yo
u anymore. It’s not good for me, and it’s probably not good for you either.”

  He caught her to him and kissed her. It was a hot, tender kiss, tongues stroking, teeth clashing, mouths feeding off each other. And it was also a good-bye kiss. She could tell that it was by the way he kept her at a distance, not melding her body to his, not melting into her.

  He ended it and stepped back abruptly. “You’re the most amazing woman I know, Victoria. I want you to live, and I want you to be happy. Go back to the States. Take care of Emily. Find happiness.”

  He backed up, his eyes on hers while she stood with her heart hammering in her throat—and then he turned and walked out the door, taking her happiness with him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Maryland

  Two months later…

  Victoria walked into the gun range with her new rifle and a couple of pistols. She’d started working part-time at the range because it gave her something to do while she figured out what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

  Besides, working here came with bonuses. First, she got a discount on weapons and ammo. Though she had plenty of money set aside after working for Ian for two years, it wouldn’t last forever and she had to be careful. Second, she got to use the range for free when it wasn’t busy, like now. It was nearly nine o’clock at night, and the only shooter was a fat man at the end who stopped and leered when she walked by.

  She ignored him, same as she ignored every guy who’d tried to ask her out over the past couple of months. She wasn’t ready, and that was fine with her. One day, sure. But not now.

  Victoria set up her equipment in the middle stall and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. It wasn’t the long-range shooting she needed, but she had to drive farther out into Maryland for that particular sort of range. The next time she had a full day to spare, she would do that.

  Which would probably be soon since Emily was getting tired of her hovering.

  The rifle was smooth and solid in her grip, the stock almost soft against her cheek. She sighted downrange and then squeezed the trigger on the exhale. The gunfire from the fat man stopped abruptly, as if he was suddenly interested in what she was doing. She fired again and again, making a tight grouping in the bull’s-eye. She didn’t have to see it to know that’s what she was doing.