by Lora Leigh
His hands touched her, stroked down her back, along her hips. He turned her and her back rubbed against his chest as his hand flattened on her stomach, pressing the sweet curves of her ass into his cock.
She twirled with an exotic allure.
She owned him.
He could have danced with her forever. He was perfectly content to remain locked in time, right there, with the vision of her dancing just for him.
And he would have until the moment she collapsed against his chest, laughter falling from her lips as her light brightened with self-amusement.
“My legs are giving out,” she laughed. “I don’t think high heels were made for this.”
Laughter. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh, the first time he had seen that happiness shining in her eyes, and he felt his heart clench. It was the most beautiful sight in the world. A gift he would always remember.
“I’ll hold you up.” He held her against his chest, moving more slowly to the music, taking her weight and cuddling her against his chest as her arms moved to wrap around his neck.
She rested against him, swaying with him as his head bent over hers and he closed his eyes at the sneaking suspicion that walking away from her was going to flay his soul.
Her fingers played along his neck, a finger twining through the short strands of hair at the back of his head. Her nails scraped his scalp. She was a flame in his arms, seeping into his pores, chaining him when he had no desire to be chained.
“I need you.” He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear and felt her shiver. “All of you.”
“Hmm.” Her head lifted. “You had me and wanted to send me away,” she reminded him. “You’re not the weather, Micah. You can’t change from day to day on me.”
His lips quirked. “Do we want to fight tonight, Risa? Or do we want to love?”
He hadn’t meant to whisper the l word against her lips. But at the sound of it, he felt her body tighten; he swore he could feel the wash of her need singeing his body, cutting into it like dull knives as he fought the sensation.
“Love?” His shoulder cradled her head as she looked up at him. “I’m certain that wasn’t the word you meant to use, Micah.” There was a subtle, almost hidden vein of bitterness in her voice.
His lovely Risa. She had never been loved, not truly. She’d been used, she’d been hurt, but she’d never had love to balance the darkness that had filled her life.
He couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t give her hope where no hope should exist. He had to remember what came after the mission. And what came after was another mission, another danger, perhaps another identity. There was no place for love in that life.
Noah had done it, another part of him reminded himself. Noah had a home, a wife, he would soon have a child, and he balanced that life. But Noah was the nephew of the unit commander. It made a difference.
“Does the word I use matter?” Micah’s hand framed her face as he bent his head to her. “I won’t wait much longer, Risa. You don’t give a man a taste of paradise, then jerk it away from him.”
“Really?” Her head lifted, her arms slid to his shoulders. “But you can give it to a woman and then tear her away from it without a thought, can’t you, Micah?” She stopped moving and tried to draw back.
Micah held her to him, frustration and arousal biting into him as she tried to put distance between them.
“I think I need a drink—”
“Risa, is that you?”
Micah’s head jerked up; his nostrils flared in primitive anger at the sight of the man standing at their side. He wanted to push Risa behind him, wanted to get her as far away from this primal threat as possible.
“Mac?” Amazement and laughter fell from her lips as she turned to the other man. “Oh my goodness. Mac Knight? Look at you.” Her hands reached out for his, large hands that gripped her smaller ones before the other man pulled her close for a hug. “Look how you’ve changed,” she breathed out in surprise.
Micah’s teeth almost snapped together as the younger man’s chest seemed to puff out. Dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, he was military; there was no missing that. The way he held himself, the look in his eyes, screamed Special Ops.
“How I’ve changed?” Mac’s smile was amazed as he stood back and stared down at Risa. “Damn, Risa, you look like a million bucks.” He shook his head as though amazed before asking, “Dance with me? Just for a few minutes?” He looked to Micah as though in permission before his gaze turned to Risa again.
Micah wanted to slam his fist into the bastard’s face.
“For a minute.” Risa turned to Micah. “He’s a friend of mine. He’s been in Iraq forever. I’ll be fine.”
The hell she would be.
Micah nodded stiffly before moving back and placing his back against the thick support post at the edge of the dance floor. He hoped neither of them expected him to just tuck his tail and slink back to the table, because it wasn’t happening.
The dance mix had moved into a slower tune, a soft ballad that required the other man to take her into his arms. At least she wasn’t rubbing against him like the sensual little cat Micah knew she was. But she was too close to the other man, and for a moment Micah knew complete bloodlust.
“YOUR BOYFRIEND is upset,” Mac said as they moved to the music, his topaz eyes watching her assessingly.
That was Mac, always thinking about things, she thought fondly.
“Micah will be fine.” She gave her head a little shake before the impulse to look over at him got the better of her.
“I heard about the abduction, Risa.” Mac’s statement had her head jerking around as humilitation flared within her. “I was in Iraq with Reno when they pulled the rescue team together, and I asked to transfer to the rescue team. They denied the request. I would have found a way to get you out of that clinic if I had known.”
It was a statement. It was an acknowledgment that she had needed help then. The humiliation drained out of her, but weariness seemed to set in.
“I made it out.” She didn’t want to talk about it. “And I don’t want to discuss that, Mac. But look at you. You filled out.”
He grinned. He was a few years older than she was, maybe seven years, she thought. That would make him thirty-two maybe. The last time she’d seen him she’d been sixteen and he’d been a wise, older twenty-two-year-old who had just joined the Army.
So many years. And they’d both changed.
“I’m not the only one.” He smiled down at her with wry amusement. “You’re looking beautiful. But didn’t I always tell you you would?”
“Yeah, after you made me cry by calling me the ugly duckling,” she pointed out without bitterness. It was impossible to stay angry with Mac for long, even then. He’d had a shy, touching smile and a way of telling you the way it was, no matter what you wanted to believe.
“I was right.” He nodded briskly. “You turned into a beautiful young woman, Risa.”
She shrugged, uncomfortable with that thought. She still saw the plain features; if there was any beauty there, it hid from her in her mirror.
“So what do you do in Iraq?” she asked, desperate to know more about one of the few friends she had had as a child.
“I work in Special Ops,” he stated. “We coordinate many of the missions that go out among the SEALs and Special Forces in the Middle East. Most of them make it through our command center eventually.”
“You should have met Micah somewhere then,” she told him. “He was a SEAL before returning to the states.”
He glanced at Micah, then back at her. “He’s not a SEAL, Risa,” Mac stated.
“Yes, he was.” Risa stared up at him in confusion. “He worked primarily in the Middle East.”
Mac shook his head as a touch of worry entered his expression. “I don’t know what he’s trying to pull on you, but I know damned good and well he’s not a SEAL,” he said again. “Not just because I don’t know him, but because SEALs carry themselves a cert
ain way, even after they leave the Navy. If they ever do. That man has never been a SEAL. An agent somewhere perhaps, definitely not someone you want to mess with.” His gaze sharpened on her face then. “Riss, are you in trouble? Do you need help?”
Risa felt an overwhelming surge of affection fill her. That was Mac, always trying to look out for someone else.
“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “But trust me, Micah’s a SEAL.” Wasn’t he? She was desperate to convince herself that at least that much was the truth. That Micah’s entire personality couldn’t be false.
Mac shook his head again. “You trust me, Risa, if that man was a SEAL, then I would have met him. And I know SEALs. He’s nothing—” He broke off. “Riss, is that Ian Richards with him?”
She nodded; she didn’t have to look.
“Riss.” Concern colored his voice. “Sweetheart, what are you involved in?”
“WHO IS HE?” IAN moved in close to Micah as they watched Risa dance with the other man.
“Mac Knight, Special Ops in Iraq,” Micah answered. “And whatever he’s telling her isn’t setting well with her.”
“Fuck, I know Knight.” Ian grimaced. “Special Ops my ass, he’s deep level. Every damned mission over there goes through his office one way or the other. He could blow your cover sky-high.”
“Get Jordan on the line,” Micah ordered him as he straightened from the post. “Have him pull Mr. Knight out, ASAP. I want him unable and unwilling to open his damned mouth.”
Ian flipped open his cell phone as Micah tensed. Risa looked worried. She kept her expression turned from him, her body was tense, and Mac Knight looked thunderous.
Micah watched them, frowning. He didn’t like that proprietary look Knight had in his eyes any more than he liked seeing Risa in the other man’s arms.
“Give Jordan one minute,” Ian murmured. “He’s having him called into base. Jordan will be waiting there on him along with his CO.”
“If it’s not too late,” Micah growled.
They watched, and almost to the minute later the other man paused, his gaze slashing to Micah and Ian as he pulled his cell phone from his jeans, spoke into it, then glared back at them.
Micah smiled, a slow, triumphant curve of his lips that he made certain wasn’t there when Risa turned back to him.
The look in her eyes assured him that she had heard something that had upset her. Something that had most likely pissed her off.
“Ian.” Mac’s gaze was cool as he faced both Micah and Ian. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Mac.” Ian nodded, then looked at Risa before lifting his gaze back to the other man. “Leaving so soon?”
A mocking glint filled Mac’s eyes as Micah curved his arm around Risa’s stiff back and pulled her against him.
“Duty calls,” Mac stated, the mockery fully present in his voice. “I hope you’re looking after Risa,” he warned Ian then.
Ian tilted his head, looked at Risa, then at Mac, and let a smile tip his lips. “I let Micah take care of that, Mac. Since he’s living with her, I’d consider that his job, wouldn’t you?”
Mac didn’t answer. His yellow-brown eyes stared into Micah’s as Micah felt the overwhelming urge to show the little pup exactly who the big dog was where Risa was concerned.
“I’ll be talking to you soon, Ian.” It sounded like a warning as Mac turned to Risa, bent, kissed her cheek, and nodded in farewell before leaving.
“How very interesting.” Risa looked up at Micah with false brightness. “You’re a true man of mystery, Micah.” Then her eyes hardened as she stared at Ian. “I’m ready to go home. I’ve had enough for the night.”
She didn’t give either of them a chance to respond but moved away instead, her hips twitching with a snap. Micah grimaced. She was pissed.
“We’re in trouble,” Ian murmured.
“No,” Micah sighed. “I am. You’re not the one that has to live with her when she’s pissed.”
“True,” Ian grunted. “But I have to live with Kira. Ex-agent. Remember?”
“She’d just kill you fast,” Micah sighed. “I get to die slow.”
“There is that.” Ian was almost laughing. “There is definitely that, Micah.”
CHAPTER 18
BY THE TIME THE limo pulled up at the apartment building, Micah could feel the tension humming around Risa. She was silent, deadly with feminine rage. He could feel it pulsing in the air around them.
Ian and Kira pulled into the parking lot in front of the building, there more or less on Risa’s orders. With a sweet smile and a firm command she had posed it as a request, but Micah and Ian knew better. The invitation she had made for the other couple to return to the apartment was couched in gentle words, but they’d all seen the look in her eyes.
Kira had been amused but questioning as she looked from Micah to Ian, as though they should know exactly what Knight had said to her.
The hell if Micah had a clue, but he made a mental note to find the bastard himself soon and find out exactly what had happened.
“I’m surprised you wanted company tonight,” Micah observed as Travis opened the door and helped Risa out.
He noticed she released the other agent’s hand as quickly as possible.
“I’m sure you are.” Her voice was as tight as her body; a few times during the ride he thought he’d caught a shimmer of tears in her eyes.
“Risa?” He cocked his head and stared down at her as Ian and Kira moved across the parking lot. “Is there something I should know?”
Her smile was brittle. “I don’t know, Micah. Is there something I should know?”
He controlled a frown as Ian and Kira reached them.
“Risa, everything okay?” Kira looked around at the well-tended grounds, the small park across from the parking area, and the well-lit exterior.
“I’m fine.” Risa shrugged as she turned and walked through the door that Clive held open for her.
He nodded at them as she passed. Risa took the time to thank him, to bestow a sweet smile on him. She hadn’t smiled or even chatted since her dance with Mac Knight.
They moved as a group to the elevator. Risa remained silent on the ride up, the tension humming through her reaching out to the rest of them.
She moved up the hall, glared at the door opposite hers, then waited for Micah to unlock the door, check inside, then cover the hall as John moved quickly into the opposite apartment.
Risa stepped inside the apartment, wondering if she was going to strangle on her anger as she turned to the others and pasted a smile on her face. “I’m not much on wine,” she informed them. “I do have beer, though.”
“Beer’s fine, Risa.” Ian nodded, his gaze questioning.
“Great.” Okay, her smile was overly bright, but she wasn’t screaming at them yet. “I’ll get them.”
She moved into the kitchen, took four beers from the refrigerator, popped the lids, and returned to the other room.
When everyone had a cold brew and had found seats, Ian and Kira on the couch, Micah in one of the two easy chairs, Risa perched on the seat of the remaining chair and smiled back at Ian.
“So, how long have you known Micah, Ian?” she asked him.
“About five years.” His look was mildly curious. “Why?”
Why? As though he hadn’t been lying to her, as though he hadn’t been as much a part of the deceit as the others had been.
“You met in the Middle East?” she quizzed him, feeling the tension that threatened to tear her apart from the inside out. “Jordan mentioned that the morning I was told of this little operation. That Micah was a former SEAL. He’d worked with your team.”
Ian stared back at her for long moments before he leaned forward and set his beer on the table.
“Risa, why don’t you just say what’s on your mind?” he said gently. “Don’t beat around the bush with me.”
Her lips nearly trembled. She had to tighten them to hold back the need to cry. Jansen had told her
that she was nothing but a crybaby. That she didn’t know how to handle reality or how to be an adult. That she would always deal with her problems by crying.
It seemed he was right. At least in this case.
“You were there,” she whispered. “In that hellhole Jansen let them take me to. You helped rescue me, Ian.”
He nodded as Micah cursed under his breath.
“I was there, Risa,” Ian agreed. “And I wanted to kill those bastards for what they did to you, Emily, and Carrie. If I’d known what happened later, I would have taken you out of that clinic and made certain you were protected. I would have killed Jansen myself.”
She nodded. She knew that. Ian was like that. He would always try to protect others; it was a part of him.
“I trusted you, Ian. You, Reno, Kell, and Macey. I trusted all of you with my life, because you were there.” Her breathing hitched as Micah jerked from his chair and paced closer to her.
“Risa, why don’t you just tell us what Knight said,” Kira stated then, her voice compassionate but matter-of-fact.
Risa turned to Kira and wanted to scream in rage. The tears were tearing her chest apart. They burned behind her eyes; they choked her as they rose in her chest.
She wanted to fold up into herself and escape. To hide as Micah had already accused her of doing. But surely hiding wasn’t as painful as facing the lies.
She wished she were as strong as Kira. As confident. For six years Risa had been so envious of the other woman. But she wondered at the hell it would have to take to find such confidence in her ability to survive. Risa didn’t imagine she could survive worse than what she had known herself, yet she had found no confidence in her survival.
“You didn’t have to lie to me to convince me to meet him,” she whispered, staring back at Ian. “And you didn’t have to lie to me after that, that he was a friend of yours. That he was a SEAL. I wouldn’t have fought this operation you wanted to use me for. All you had to do was tell me he was a friend, Ian. That was all.”
Silence filled the room as she rose to her feet and turned her back on the three of them. She felt as though she were going to shatter.
