The Colonel's Widow?

by Mallory Kane

  His smile.

  No diamond could match it for beauty, or rarity. It transformed his stern, angular face into dimpled, boyish, heartbreaking sweetness.

  With a little luck, the skies would stay clear tonight, and Deke and whoever else Rook had brought with him could zero in on the chip embedded in his shoulder.

  “You should stay on top,” she said, her voice breaking with hope and happiness and fear.

  “I suppose I should.” He touched the hem of her abaya, and she raised up so he could slip it off.

  Then he reached for a length of gauzy cloth and draped it over them from head to toe.

  She slid her hand between the cloth and his shoulder and touched the chip. He lay his hand over hers. “Thin cloth—not a problem.”

  Then in one smooth motion, he raised himself above her, and the hairs on his chest tickled her breasts’ distended tips. His hips met hers, and his erection pushed against her with exquisite pressure. He leaned on his elbows and caressed her face, her cheeks, her lips, with his fingers.

  All she wanted to do was surround herself with him. To have him in her and around her for this one last time.

  Maybe his plan would work. Maybe they’d be rescued in the morning. But she knew that all she could count on was right now. All anyone ever had was now.

  As much as she’d ever wanted anything, she wanted to hold on to it, to experience every single nanosecond of it. For this one brief instant of time, she had her heart’s desire.

  But more than that, she longed to hear him say the words he’d never said.

  She hated herself right now. She knew this moment was fleeting, and she knew she was going to ruin it. But her insecurities were stronger than her will.

  “Rook?”

  “Hmm?” He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, a kiss to transcend time and space. A kiss between lovers. Then he pushed into her waiting body with exquisite slowness.

  The sensation of him filling her made her cry. She’d been alone for so long. She’d given up hope, and yet hope had never given up on her.

  He made a noise deep in his throat and sank deeper. He pressed his forehead against hers. She felt his chest rise and fall rapidly.

  “This feels so good,” he whispered. “I missed you so much.”

  “Why, Rook?” she murmured brokenly. “Why did you leave me?”

  “Rina,” he muttered, his tone hovering between a warning and an endearment. Dipping his head, he sought her mouth.

  She longed to kiss him, to surround herself with his powerful body, to feel him at once in her and around her as she had so many times before.

  But inevitably, her hands pushed at his chest, resisting. She struggled to maintain eye contact.

  “Why?” she repeated, like lines in a play she was being forced to perform. She wished she could stop, but she was too caught up in her nightmare.

  “You know why,” he whispered, and his breath fanned her eyelashes. He kissed her eyelids, her cheek, the sweet spot beneath her earlobe.

  She tasted sweat on his neck—salty, delicious. “Rook, I need to know.”

  “I had to,” he said. “It was the only way to keep you safe.” His erection pulsed inside her.

  “But you left me alone.”

  “Don’t,” he whispered, moving within her, rocking her with the slow rhythm she knew so well. His chest rumbled with languid laughter when she gasped.

  But then she pushed him away again, helpless against the current of her insecurity and need.

  He stopped again. “Rina, I know you don’t trust me. I know I destroyed that when I did what I did. But you have to try. You have to believe me. I did it because I love you. So much that I believed that nothing, not even death, could tear us apart. I loved you then. I love you now. I will love you forever, wherever we are.”

  He held her gaze and pushed into her, once, twice, again and again, stealing the doubt from her mind and replacing it with uncontrollable desire.

  “Now shut up and come with me.” He pushed her over the threshold, and all the stars in the heavens burst in front of her eyes.

  THE NEXT THING Irina knew, a man was poking a rifle into her neck. Her eyes flew open and her hand clutched at the thin cloth that covered her.

  Rook was already awake and sitting up, his hands spread in a gesture of surrender. He spoke sharply, in the language of the area, and jerked his head toward the cloth-draped doorway that divided the bedroom from the main cave.

  The rifle at her throat jabbed, choking her. She coughed.

  The other soldier barked a command, and her guard took a step away. Then the two of them backed out of the room.

  Rook’s gaze met hers. “Are you okay?”

  “What did you say to them?”

  “Told them you were a lady and needed your privacy to dress.”

  She looked around and then up, at the opening in the roof. “It is barely dawn.” Her heart leapt into her throat. “Is it time?”

  He nodded grimly. “Apparently.”

  Rising, he walked naked around the bed and picked up the carafe of water. He poured a cup, handed it to her and turned the carafe up to his lips.

  She drank some of the flat-tasting water, but it was hard to force it past the lump in her throat.

  This was it. They were going to die today. A flood of regret washed over her. She wasn’t old. Not even thirty-one.

  There had been times in her life when she’d almost wanted to die. Almost. But today wasn’t one of them.

  Rook bent and picked up her abaya and tossed it to her. He looked her way but didn’t meet her eyes. That could only mean one of two things—he was hiding something from her, or he’d lied to her.

  She longed to ask him if they were really going to die here. To ask him why Deke wasn’t on his way to rescue them. And why he wasn’t fighting to live. But she was afraid of his answer. She’d thought she knew him, sometimes better than she knew herself. But he’d planned to fake his death, and she’d never suspected.

  She pulled the abaya on over her head and stood so the hem fell to her ankles.

  Rook buttoned his wrinkled, dirt-stained shirt and pulled on his pants, then shot his cuffs as if he were wearing a tux.

  “Rook?”

  In the dimness, his eyes, which were usually the color of peridot, looked much darker. A ghost of a smile played around his lips. “Don’t be afraid, Rina,” he murmured.

  Her heart leapt and her breath caught. Was that assurance she heard in his voice? Maybe Deke was on his way.

  He put an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s not so bad.”

  Death.

  He was talking about death. Her throat closed and her eyes stung. Because he knew. She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her face into the hollow of his shoulder.

  It was too late.

  “I cannot help it,” she whispered brokenly. “I wanted more. More time, more life. More you.”

  “Shh. Don’t cry.”

  She was crying and she hated that she was that weak. He’d been so strong through everything. He’d been her rock. Her savior. Her lover.

  She heard heavy footsteps. The guards.

  Rook gently pushed her away but kept his hand on the small of her back. The guards entered and stood on either side of the cave opening, their rifles cradled menacingly in their arms.

  Pressing firmly on her back, Rook urged her forward. She lifted her head, doubled her fists at her sides and walked through the opening with as much dignity as she could gather.

  In the large main cave, Novus Ordo sat with a cup in his hand. “Coffee?” he said conversationally. “It’s strong.”

  Rook pulled her a few millimeters closer. He didn’t answer the terrorist.

  “No?” Ordo drained the cup and held it out. The old woman standing behind him took it. “See that?” he asked with a grin. “There’s nothing like it. Think I could ever have all this in the U.S.?”

  “And I thought you were crazy and mi
sguided, but at least you had a worthy cause.” Rook’s voice dripped with revulsion. “Looks like your thing isn’t saving the planet—it’s power and money.”

  Ordo’s face turned dark. “Don’t even presume to judge me,” he shouted, his hands white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. But immediately, he let go and held up his hands, palms out.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to let you bait me this morning. I intend to enjoy this.”

  He turned to Irina. “Mrs. Castle, you kept your word. I’m going to keep mine. Your husband will be executed by a firing squad this morning.”

  Irina couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe. To hear those words, spoken in that calm, slightly amused voice chilled her to her soul.

  “What about my wife?” Rook asked. “You’ll let her go?”

  Ordo laughed. “Sure. Sure thing. I’ll let her go.” He said something else, in that language Irina couldn’t understand, and all the soldiers in the room laughed, too.

  Rook’s whole body went rigid against her, and she felt his hand double into a fist at her back.

  What had Ordo said? She looked fearfully at the terrorist and the two guards standing on either side of him. They were leering at her. Her knees gave way, and she’d have fallen if Rook hadn’t caught her.

  “Kill me,” she whispered to him as he held her close against him.

  He didn’t answer her, but his arms tightened and his heartbeat against her ear tripled.

  “Mrs. Castle. I’m guessing you figured out what I said.” Ordo grinned at her. “And, no, your husband won’t be able to kill you. He doesn’t have the means or the guts, do you, Colonel—?”

  The last of his sentence was drowned out by the sound of an airplane overhead.

  Ordo’s head jerked up sharply, then he eyed Rook with suspicion. He gestured to one of his guards and whispered in his ear. The guard nodded. He stepped away from Ordo’s chair and headed for the main entrance to the cave, taking another soldier with him.

  Novus Ordo slammed his fist on the chair arm. “I knew it. You couldn’t keep your word, could you?” he thundered. “You coward! You cheat! Well, I hope that’s your best buddy up there in that plane, because it’s coming down!”

  He pointed to one of his guards and spat an order, then pointed to a second one. The two men slung their rifles over their shoulders. One grabbed Rook, the other grabbed her.

  He was separating them. Irina struggled helplessly against the guard holding her, as she tried to maintain eye contact with Rook.

  He hadn’t reacted to the guard who’d dragged him across the room. He stood tall and straight, and when his gaze met hers, he gave her a tiny shake of his head.

  Don’t struggle. It was as clear as if he’d said it aloud.

  From outside, she heard several small explosions, one right after another. She sent a questioning glance toward Rook but he was looking at Novus, who held his hand up.

  He waited. The whole room waited.

  Another short burst of explosive, then a deafening blast that went on for a couple of seconds.

  No one in the room moved.

  Finally, the unmistakable sound of metal crashing to the ground.

  Irina gasped. Rook closed his eyes. Novus Ordo sent up a shout of triumph, and the roomful of guards cheered with him.

  There could be only one explanation for what she’d heard.

  Novus had shot down their rescue plane.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rook looked Novus Ordo in the eye and watched him light up like a child on Christmas as the sickening sound of metal crashing to the ground filled the air.

  Novus smirked at him in triumph. “Did you think I wouldn’t have anti-aircraft missiles? Did you think I couldn’t shoot your little planes right out of the air?”

  Rook let the words roll off him like beads of water. He didn’t change expression, didn’t move a muscle. The hardest thing was not to look at Rina, but he managed. He held Ordo’s gaze.

  After a beat, Novus snapped an order and all the guards stood at attention. Best Rook could translate was something on the order of “It’s time. Make ready.”

  He figured Novus was ordering his men to set up the firing squad. A shard of fear ripped through Rook. He hoped his courage held out. He wasn’t sure how much he had left. It had been draining away ever since the moment he found out Novus had gotten his hands on Irina. And now, if he died, or maybe even if he managed to get out of this alive, his sister was a target.

  As he expected, a second guard stepped up beside him. From the corner of his eye he saw one move to Irina’s right.

  With a rifle barrel pressed into his kidney, he was marched through the tent and outside. The bright sunlight was obscured by black smoke. To his left, a coil of fire and smoke rose several hundred feet into the air.

  The planes. He turned his attention to the guard in front of him, who gestured toward the south corner of the small open area. The guard behind him prodded him until he reached the edge of a stand of scrubby trees.

  The guard drew a line with the toe of one boot, then pointed his rifle barrel at it. Rook stepped to the line and turned around.

  The first thing he saw was Irina’s pale face as she was prodded through the tent opening behind Novus Ordo. Her blue eyes were wide and dark with fear. When she spotted him, she swayed and caught at Ordo’s shirt. He slung her off with a growl.

  Immediately two guards grabbed her and pulled her away from their leader. One jerked her backward and shoved her toward an older woman, who grabbed her arm.

  At least she was no longer beside Ordo.

  Rook caught her gaze, wishing he could send her a telepathic message to reassure her. But if she could read his mind, she’d know how little reassurance he had to offer.

  Then a small commotion to his left caught his attention. A man with a cloth over his head, hobbles on his feet and his hands tied behind his back was thrust into the clearing. He fell without even trying to right himself.

  Ordo smiled at Rook. “That’s right, Colonel.” He walked over to where the man was lying on the ground, pulled the cloth off the tethered man’s head and lifted it by his hair.

  It was Aaron Gold.

  Rook frowned. Irina uttered a little cry.

  Aaron’s face was a mask of terror. A cut above his eye and a dark bruise on his cheek told Rook that Ordo hadn’t welcomed him like a hero for betraying his boss and his country.

  “So,” Ordo said, turning to look at Rook. “Say hi to your employee of the month. I think he expected me to hand over the keys to the kingdom, or at least to a sizable reward.” Ordo grinned at Rook. “Tell him why he’s here.”

  Rook didn’t speak.

  “Tell him!”

  Rook gritted his teeth. He didn’t know how far he could push Ordo, so he answered, never taking his eyes off him. “Not even a traitor can trust a traitor.”

  Ordo laughed out loud. “That’s right.” He gestured to the guard, who yanked Aaron up and half dragged him over beside Rook.

  “Tell him how lucky he is to be executed nobly, along with you.”

  Rook kept his mouth shut. Beside him, Aaron whimpered.

  “Never mind.” Novus Ordo waved a hand. “He knows. Since he’s been here he’s seen an example or two.” He looked up at the morning sky. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got a shipment of weapons coming into port in forty-eight hours. So I’ve got a long drive and a long flight ahead of me.”

  He gave an order, and ten soldiers stepped forward from various places in the clearing. They took their positions in an invisible line about twenty feet in front of Rook.

  Rook lifted his head and tensed his muscles. He couldn’t resist one last glimpse of Rina. When their gazes met, his heart leapt into his throat and tears burned at the backs of his eyes.

  “Ready…” Ordo shouted.

  Rook nodded at Rina. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, but she didn’t react. Of course she didn’t. She couldn’t hea
r him.

  “Aim…”

  Irina couldn’t tear her gaze away from Rook’s. He’d mouthed Close your eyes, but she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She tried to jerk away from the old woman, to run to him and die beside him, but the woman’s grip was too strong.

  She waited, cringing, determined to stand strong for Rook, as Novus Ordo uttered the final word—

  “Fire.”

  Something popped.

  Rook’s head jerked. Aaron screamed.

  Ordo made a strangled noise, then collapsed, not two feet in front of her.

  Then everyone was shouting. Gunfire burst all around her. Irina felt as if every single bullet hit her heart. Suddenly the black smoke from the downed planes swirled with white smoke from the guns and she couldn’t see anything.

  The old woman pulled on her sleeve, trying to force her to the ground out of the line of fire, but she had to find Rook.

  The woman let go, and Irina fell to her knees, just as something hit her and knocked her backward.

  “Stay down!” The command was growled and constant gunfire obscured the words, but she knew who it was.

  “Rook! Thank God!”

  He slid his arm underneath hers and dragged her through the tent into the cave. “Stay!” He thrust a long rifle into her hands. “Shoot to kill. It’ll keep firing as long as you hold the trigger down.”

  “Wait!” she shrieked, but he was already gone.

  Back out there.

  The guns still spat unrelenting staccato bursts. She knew the sound. From her childhood in Russia. Back then, she’d believed that her mother and father would keep her safe.

  Now she knew better.

  She scooted backward until the rocky cave wall stopped her. She quickly examined the heavy rifle. She’d never seen one like it, but it seemed to have all the necessary parts.

  Did it matter that she’d never shot a gun like this in her life?

  Hold the trigger down—it keeps shooting.

  She planned to do exactly that.

  ROOK CROUCHED behind the dead body of an enemy soldier and swung the barrel of his weapon around, squinting to see through the smoke. The ground was littered with bodies. He prayed none of them were his men.