“I don’t have any kind of sad story, by the way.”
He had figured she might be hiding some ugly truth of her past, but when she faced him, he didn’t see any hint of sadness in her eyes, which was good. “So, what’s your story, then?”
Her fingertips tucked into her palms at her sides, and she shifted her weight to her right leg. Her nerves were getting to her. Was he making her uncomfortable?
“I was sick of being in the public eye all of the time. I wanted to eat a piece of pizza or go for a swim without cameras in my face.”
“I guess that’s got to be annoying.” In his line of work, he could understand the desire for privacy. Hell, his life depended on it.
“All of my family is in the public eye in one way or another. My older brother hates to have his privacy invaded, too, but he’s so rich he can hire a wall of professional wrestlers to protect him from the paparazzi everywhere he goes.”
“Are we talking Oprah-rich or . . .”
She nodded. “He’s got connections and helped me get the new identity. He didn’t even question me when I asked for help.”
“There have to be some perks to being part of a famous family.” Her dad had directed some of his favorite action flicks, and his own father had had a massive crush on Eva’s mom when Luke had been growing up. It was a bit surreal.
“Getting to know Sly, Keanu, Bruce, Denzel . . . Those were some of the highlights of my life, I guess.”
“Wow.”
“If we make it out of this alive, I can get you an introduction to anyone you’d like.”
He set his glass down on the counter. “You’ll make it out alive,” he said in a steady voice, needing her to believe him. “But, do you think these movie stars will remember who you are since you’ve been on the DL?”
Her mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything.
“I guess even in hiding, you ended up back in the media business, though.”
“You can’t escape blood, and the industry is in mine like the military’s in yours. It’s just before, the expectations on my shoulders were heavy—like Atlas-holding-the-globe-on-his-shoulders heavy. If Everly Reed fails, it’ll be a disaster, but if I plummet my career to its death as Eva Sharp, no one will care.” She cupped her mouth, her eyes widening a hair as if she hadn’t meant to slip out that admission.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she lowered her hand and sucked in a panicky breath before releasing it.
He stayed relaxed, simply watching her—waiting for her to spill more.
“That, um, wasn’t my original reason for leaving that life, but maybe it’s the reason why I maintain this new identity now. Well, aside from trying to make it because of merit and not name.” A plump bottom lip tucked between her teeth for a moment, and it had his heart slowing as his body grew ready for something—someone—he couldn’t possibly have.
“Glasses, minimal makeup, plain clothes. I learned if I slouched my shoulders and didn’t make a lot of eye contact, people wouldn’t see me anymore. I became Plain Eva. And as far as the actors at the studio are concerned, I’m a struggling writer pinching her pennies, hoping for a big break.” She sidestepped him, brushing against his body in the process.
He turned to see her heading to the table to clean up, even though they’d barely touched their dinner. “I’m not quite sure how you can look in the mirror and see yourself as plain. Or how you could ever think you could possibly be invisible.”
She lowered the bowl she’d been holding back to the table and both her palms landed alongside it. “It’s true.”
He came up behind her. A hint of coconut and flowers caught his nostrils. He wasn’t sure what type of perfume his buddy had bought at the store for her, but he’d done a damn good job. She smelled like a sweet summer day on an island somewhere.
His fingers ran through her silky strands as he whispered close to her ear, “I see you.”
Her head dropped slightly forward as if his words had weighed her down.
He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking being so close to her, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to back away. Always in control of his actions, but he was inexplicably drawn to this woman.
“I should get some rest.” She turned, but he’d been so close she bumped into him, and he caught her arms and staggered back a step to find her eyes.
He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to take her out of this hell he’d dragged her in to and find a way to erase all of her problems.
“Not hungry, huh?” he asked, his body tightening with a continued and unexpected need to be near her—to continue to hold on to her.
“Just tired.” Her tongue rolled over her teeth as she held his gaze. “Th-thanks for the food.”
He released her, took another step back to give her space, and looped his thumbs in his front pockets. “I’m here twenty-four seven if you need me to whip you up another fine meal.”
“Thank you.” She moved out of his reach, but as she started to exit the kitchen, she paused mid-step and peered at him over her shoulder. “Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” His brows furrowed.
“For whatever it is you’re doing. I assume you’re trying to keep people safe. And also for, you know, shielding my body from bullets in that truck.”
He didn’t know what to say, and so he did what he always did when someone thanked him—he forced a stiff nod and kept quiet.
Chapter Nine
Luke tapped at the screen on his armband, checking the cameras positioned a mile away from the home. He’d get alerted if anything larger than a squirrel passed the one-mile line. In the middle of the night, a deer had woken his ass up, and he hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep.
Now, it was quarter past six, and he decided he’d do a couple laps around the property before Eva woke.
“Where are you going?” Eva asked from behind, taking him by surprise. No one ever got the drop on him. He was off his game.
He turned to see her mid-yawn. Her hair was messy in a sexy kind of way, and she was in silky pink pajama bottoms with a matching top.
She’d forgotten a bra, and so he forced his focus back to her eyes.
“For a run. Do you want to join me?”
“Uh, you know that expression, if you see me running, it’s because someone’s chasing me? Well, that’d be me. I don’t run.”
He grinned. “What do you do to stay fit?”
“I think our definition of staying fit is drastically different. You probably spend three hours a day in the gym to look like that.”
“Hardly. All genetics.”
She laughed. “Funny.” Eva peered at the front door, her brows drawing together. “Is it safe to go out there?”
He pointed to his wrist. “This place is off the grid, but I also have cameras, so don’t worry.”
“What about the fact that it’s twenty degrees out?”
“Honey, when you’ve swum in waters below zero, this is like a walk in the park.”
“SEAL,” she mouthed, which induced an eye roll from him.
Persistent. “I’ll be back soon.”
“I can make us coffee and breakfast while you’re out.”
He nodded. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
As his hand wrapped over the doorknob, she added, “Be safe.”
“Will do.”
Once outside, he sucked in a breath of the crisp Pennsylvania air. It was the second week in January, and they were in the mountains, which reduced the temperature even more. But the weather never bothered him. He’d been conditioned to handle all kinds of environments.
On his fifth lap around the edge of the property line, Jessica phoned him. He hoped to hell she had good news.
“What’s up?” he asked, his breath catching visibly in the air. “Ender awake?”
“Not yet, but I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” He glanced back at the two-story house a hundred feet or so behind h
im, ensuring Eva wasn’t in sight.
“I think you should show your face at the Turkish consulate in New York on Monday.”
“We ruled that out as a possibility a few weeks ago.”
“Yeah, and a few weeks ago, only Ender Yilmaz knew what you looked like. Malik didn’t have any photos of you. We had no choice but to find Ender to try and draw out Malik. It’s a different game now. If there’s anyone dirty at the consulate, then Malik will have sent a photo of you so they could be on the lookout.”
“That’s a big if. He’s not going to show his face in Manhattan, even if I show mine.”
“Malik will have eyes on the consulate. All you need to do is walk in the building.”
“We can’t operate in the city. Too many people. Too many possible problems.”
“So you get in and out quick,” she replied.
“And then what?”
“We’re working on a plan. I know you have your hands full babysitting, so let us handle this.” His sister sounded confident, and he knew she was brilliant, but he hated not being actively part of the strategizing. He’d always helped make the plans, and this was killing him. “We have three days until you need to be in New York. We’ll think of something by then. And maybe Ender will wake up in the meantime.”
“What about Eva?” he asked. “Am I bringing her with me? Will I pass her off to one of our guys in New York once we’re there?”
“No,” Eva shrieked from behind.
Had this woman really snuck up on him twice in one morning? “I gotta go.” He ended the call and faced her. “What are you doing out here?”
“You were gone longer than I expected, so I got worried. I came to find you.” She had ski pants and a matching pink jacket on. His guy had packed everything for her, so it seemed.
“And if something had happened to me, what would you have done?” He arched a brow, genuinely curious.
“I’m resourceful.”
“Sure, you are.” He strode closer to her. “Let’s go inside.” He could hear the clicking of her teeth. How long had she been outside, if she were still cold in that getup? This woman was becoming even more trouble than he’d anticipated.
“I don’t want to stay here alone, nor do I want to be passed off to someone else.” Once inside, her hands landed on her hips.
“Well, I’d obviously never leave you alone.” He closed the gap between them, her cheeks losing the tinge of rosiness from the cold air. “But, I can’t exactly keep you with me forever.” Even if he did wonder what she’d be like in bed, or maybe on a desk, with her glasses back on.
“As amazing as forever sounds”—she actually rolled her eyes, which had him fighting back a smile—“I barely trust you, which means I certainly won’t trust some new guy.”
“Why’re you being sexist? What if it’s a woman I have protect you?”
And the pink on her cheeks was alive again. “Why would you go to the Turkish consulate? Were those men who took us Turkish?”
He progressed closer to her, and she inched back, bumping into the staircase banister. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” she bit out, but confidence didn’t carry with the word. A crease in her brow formed as she studied him from his running shoes to his fleece jacket. “You’re going back out as bait, huh?”
He removed his jacket and draped it over the banister. “Did you make coffee?”
She tilted her chin up. He’d take that as yes.
He left the foyer and made his way into the kitchen. Mid-pour, he heard her soft steps from behind. Why hadn’t he heard her outside? He really did need a vacation if this five-foot-five woman could get the drop on him. He made a mental note to tell Will he’d be taking a few weeks off once this operation was tied up.
“I won’t go anywhere or stay here with someone new . . . not unless you tell me the truth. Fuck classified.”
He almost dropped the coffee mug at the sound of her curse. She had appeared too delicate for such a word, but maybe he’d misjudged her, as she had him.
“Well, I can tie you down if I have to. Staying here right now isn’t an open invitation; it’s a requirement.” His voice deepened, and he slowly turned to face her. “If you’ve misunderstood the arrangement, perhaps I need to re-explain.”
There was a quick glimmer of something in her eyes, something that said she wanted to be tied down by him, and not in the way he’d meant. Not that he’d ever tied up a woman—after cuffing and binding people in war, the last thing he wanted was to simulate any scenes in the bedroom that took him to any place dark.
He cocked his head and smoothed a hand from the base of his throat down his chest as he considered what to do with the stubborn woman before him.
“Let me be clear.” She edged closer, leaving less than a foot between them. She was invading his personal space, and for some reason, it didn’t bother him.
“Yeah, Hollywood? What do you want to tell me?” He dropped his gaze to her mouth, unable to miss what he knew he’d catch—an angry but sexy twist of her lips.
She stabbed a finger at his chest. “I’m here because you got me into something dangerous, and I’d prefer to keep my limbs intact. I’m not your prisoner, and last time I checked, kidnapping was illegal.”
He brought his mug to his lips while casually capturing her wrist. He took a sip of his coffee, and she wrapped a hand over his, trying to break free. “Princess, I can do whatever the hell I please.”
Her eyes flicked up to his face. “Princess. Hollywood. If you’re going to choose a nickname to try and offend me, at least stick with one.”
He released her, and she stumbled back, her nostrils flaring. From her neck to the tips of her ears, she was flushed. And he had the desire to trail his lips over the reddened flesh, to distract her from the nightmare he had, in fact, dragged her into.
“You may be trying to come across as rough and tough—some badass commando,” she said, emphasizing the last word, “but there’s more to you than that. You ruined your operation to save my life, and so whatever this thing is you’re doing right now . . . well, it doesn’t fool me.” She whirled around and strode with her head held high out of the kitchen.
At the sound of her shoes running up the steps, his heart settled back to its normal beat, and he dropped down onto a bar stool at the kitchen island. The woman had balls to talk to him like that.
Why the hell did that have to turn him on so damn much?
Chapter Ten
“I don’t want to see you,” Eva called out when Luke knocked on her bedroom door. “I need more than the hour you’ve given me to cool off.”
“You know I can get in, whether you choose to let me in or not.”
She shoved the MacBook off her lap. “If you come in, you’ll see me naked.” That lie would stop him from breaking down the door, right? She hoped so, at least.
“Great. I could use something to cheer me up after a Hollywood star all but stuck her sharpened claws in me earlier.”
Eva dropped her feet to the ground and stood, fired up. “Wow. Are you that big of a wuss that you can’t take a couple of cat scratches?” She pressed her palms to the door. “And don’t even think about referring to me as a pussy as a retort.”
“The thought never crossed my mind, Hollywood.” There was a definite amused chuckle that swiftly breezed through his words.
“I was never a star, by the way. I did my best to avoid being on screen. I just got dragged into the limelight by being surrounded by stars.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Are we gonna keep having this conversation through the door?”
“Kind of how everything started with us.” She lifted her head. “Better than you seeing me naked, anyway.”
“Hm. I don’t know about that.”
“You wish, Commando.” This man could melt her insides like butter with one look, but she’d never let him know the power he wielded. She had to stay resolute; she had to get him to give her some sliver of an idea as to what sh
e was really up against. What if something did happen to him? What if she were left in the dark and had no way of protecting herself from an enemy unknown to her?
She hoped nothing would happen, but he was clearly in a dangerous line of work, the kind of work where any day could be your last.
How does one live knowing that tomorrow isn’t promised? Of course, the same held true for everyone with a pulse, didn’t it? There were no guarantees, but in his case, he was literally putting himself in front of men with bullets, and so the risks were amplified.
She wondered what life would be like if she lived each day to its fullest. She’d been hiding so long, too afraid to step out of the shadows that clung to her now, she had no idea what it’d be like to be carefree. She’d been so by-the-book and “good” as Everly Reed to prevent the media from ever writing a salacious story on her, she really hadn’t gotten a chance to live all that much.
“Are you going to open it, or what?”
“Well, do you have anything new to say? Or did you come here to show me your tail between your legs in hopes I’ll be a good girl and forgive you?”
He didn’t respond, but she had a feeling he was merely biting back some one-liner in reference to her good girl comment. She almost wanted him to piss her off so she wouldn’t open the door and have to look into his too-damn-blue-to-be-true eyes.
“I’ll let you in if you tell me something. I’ll even sign some nondisclosure agreement.”
“Yeah, sure . . .”
“Wives of SEALs have to sign one,” she noted, remembering her research.
“Are you my wife?”
“A man like you won’t ever get one, will you? Not while you’re chasing bad guys.”
“Can you please open the door?” he requested, a throatier sound to his voice this time. His patience was clearly wearing thin.
“Do we have a deal?” She eyed the door and tightened her grip on the knob as she waited.
“One question only.”
“Three,” she sputtered back.
“One.”
“Three.”
Finding His Mark (Stealth Ops Book 1) Page 8
