Special Ops Rendezvous

by Karen Anders

  “There’s no need to apologize. My back is a mess. I was tortured for three months before I was rescued. As you can see, they weren’t easy on me. My shoulders give me the most problem. They hung me from the ceiling every day.”

  Sam met those dark brown eyes and watched her struggle with her compassion and her shock. And something loosened up in him at her look, something that brought with it intense heat. Suddenly he wanted to get close to this woman on more than just a physical level.

  “Okay, your shoulders. Anything else?”

  “My left hip and quad. I got shot there.”

  She nodded. This woman should have come with a warning label, Sam thought. She was much too potent, and he was, lethal son of a bitch or not, feeling just a tad vulnerable.

  It had never happened before. Not even when those bastards were pounding on him.

  Yet the brown eyes of a beautiful massage therapist seemed to do it without effort.

  She dimmed the lights in the room and put on soft, chiming music that was really relaxing.

  As the anticipation of her touch built up in him, he sighed softly when her hands started on his upper shoulders. Her touch was sure, gentle, soothing. He tried not to read into it, but her hands just didn’t feel impersonal. He wasn’t sure if that was just his perception.

  He didn’t really care. He liked it too much.

  He heard her shift her position, felt her move closer, working the big muscles down the length of his back.

  The bitch about getting injured was it sapped his energy. He had gotten up early and had worked out hard. The shock and dismay at Dr. Owens’s death had taken a toll, too. He fell asleep.

  He drifted, but then flashes of images disturbed the silky, comforting darkness. He blinked and he could see vivid evergreens around him as the sharp scent of pine smoke from the fire drifted across their camp. Flashes of the images lit his brain, powerful and tantalizing. Trey, his big brother, was there and Thad, too. All of them teenagers. He frowned. Was this Yellowstone? Were they camping with their father? How was that possible? Anger against his mother swamped him when he realized she wasn’t there. Why couldn’t she be here, too? He looked at his brother Trey, and his heart lurched.

  Darkness swirled around him and his face was blank. There were no eyes, mouth or nose. It was just flesh. Then the scene changed and darkness surrounded Sam. The smell of his own filth and blood disturbed his sleep, and he shifted. He was huddled on the floor, trying to breathe around his agony. He couldn’t find the will to lift his head. But the face of one of his tormenters thrust into his. His eyes widened and his mind reeled. It was Trey.

  Foreign voices spun around him. Strong hands pulled at him and he made a sound of anguish, breathing hard and trying to prepare himself for more pain on top of what his aching body had already endured.

  Pain exploded in his hip and he jerked away. With a cry of agony he reached for the hand that had touched him. He came fully awake and pushed himself up on the table. In the dim room, Olivia’s startled eyes met his. The memory of that place, his helplessness and the excruciating pain throbbed through him.

  And she saw it immediately.

  “You fell asleep and must have had a nightmare. It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice so soft and soothing.

  Her wrist beneath his hand was delicate, her skin soft and warm. He took a breath and closed his eyes as he let her go. Damn nightmares.

  He lay back down, trying to control his breathing. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

  “I don’t scare that easily. You just surprised me. But I totally understand. I’m sure what you endured was something I can’t even comprehend. No harm done.”

  He really liked the way this woman was so frank.

  “Are you comfortable moving on? I just have your lower body left to do, but if you’d prefer ending the session, we can.”

  “No, it’s fine as long as you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She touched his lower back and he sighed. The small room seemed to get smaller as she bent over him, removing the sheet from one leg and tucking it securely under his opposite thigh.

  She was close to him.

  Very close.

  Practically on top of him, and he was enjoying it a little too much—the whole thing, with her hands on him, and her voice close, and her fingers kneading and smoothing over his muscles, sliding over his skin. With every moment of contact, the heat in the small room rose another degree.

  From then on it was pure torture trying to keep his body under control and in check. But as she moved around him to his other hip and then his hamstrings, her every touch sent a hot thrill straight to his groin.

  And the sensual feel of her not-quite-impersonal hands caused a reaction.

  He tried to minimize it. Tried to think of something to curtail his response, but it was no use.

  He got an erection.

  “I’m ready for you to turn over.”

  He wanted to attribute the reaction of his body to not being with a woman for a long time, or to the fact that he’d just woken up from sleeping, but he knew better.

  “Olivia, I have to let you know that I have an erection.”

  When he looked at her, she didn’t bat an eye, but she looked a bit guilty. “That’s totally normal.”

  He’d bet a lot of men got erections around her.

  He really, really liked this woman’s direct and no-nonsense attitude.

  “My job as a massage therapist is to help you integrate into your body. I’m here to help you heal not only from physical pain and injury, but also from emotional traumas that can be held in the body. Your body is the way it is and I don’t pass judgment on the normal and healthy reaction of a man. While an erection may be an uncomfortable topic for some, I have a different attitude about it.”

  He laughed for the first time in a long while. “Well, if that’s the case, go ahead and finish.”

  “Are you comfortable with it? I don’t want you to feel at all uneasy.”

  He rolled over, sat up and stuffed the sheet down between his legs, trapping his dick between his abdomen and the tightened sheet, then lay back down.

  She smiled and nodded. “Good. I like a client who is in tune with his body and accepts it. I might also mention, in case it happens, that you might even discharge semen, as well. Also, totally normal.”

  Oh, jeez, she would have to bring that up. He had no idea why this woman was having such an effect on him. There was something about her that really turned him on. So, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t ejaculate, either. “Good to know,” he said, amused at her complete trust in him. “Just so you know, I would never be inappropriate with you, Olivia.”

  “I trust that you would never do that, Captain Winston.”

  “It’s Sam,” he said. “If you’re comfortable with my erection, you should be comfortable with my first name.”

  She smiled at him, and although he saw her struggle with her impartiality, her interest was wholly there.

  When she put her hands on him again, there was some distance this time. He wondered if she felt a little responsible for making him hard, since he was still pretty sure her touch had not been as professional as she was with other clients. He also had to wonder if she was feeling soft toward him because he had been so wounded.

  Regardless, she did a wonderful job. His shoulders felt great and she’d done wonders on his hip. Now she was kneading his quad.

  After about ten minutes she finished and stepped back. He was drifting, enjoying the rhythm of her hands and the feel of her palms against his skin.

  “Make sure you drink plenty of water when you get home.”

  “I know the drill.”

  “I’m sure you do, but we always remind our clients.”

  “Tha
nk you, Olivia. This has really helped.”

  “My pleasure, Sam.”

  She smiled at him and left the room. He got off the table, shrugged into his robe, went back to the locker room and showered. Getting dressed, he navigated his way out of the spa just as Olivia was pulling the outside door open. He hurried to hold it for her. She glanced back and then smiled.

  They walked to the parking lot.

  “Sam, would you be interested in having a coffee with me?”

  He looked down at her, those candid eyes never wavering. He felt himself leaning closer, breathing in her scent. Which was dangerous given his current state of mind. But he seemed helpless to curb the impulse. Olivia Marshall wore her confidence like a well-worn sweater. He was so tempted with all that soft skin and a slightly lush bottom lip that just begged a man to taste it. Bite it. Just a little.

  He got a hold of himself. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I can’t. I’ve got an appointment.”

  “Are you sure you couldn’t spare just half an hour?” she said, disappointment clear in her eyes. There was something else there, too—something that was there and then gone.

  He hated to be paranoid, but something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something in her voice that made him think...what? That she had targeted him? That was paranoid. She was a massage therapist, for Pete’s sake.

  “I’m going to visit my mother.”

  “Of course you would be. How is she doing?”

  “She’s up and around along with Dan Henderson, her Secret Service agent.”

  “That was so terrible. It must still be a difficult time for you.”

  He nodded.

  “Maybe some other time, then, for that coffee?”

  “Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

  As Olivia walked away, everything seemed to pile in on him all at once. Mike’s betrayal, his mother’s shooting, Dr. Owens’s death, the blackouts, the nightmares and feeling as if he couldn’t trust himself.

  It was such an alien feeling and he wouldn’t have minded a nice woman to take his mind off it all. But it wouldn’t be fair to subject her to all his crap. Letting her go was a smart move.

  So why didn’t it feel right?

  He shifted his shoulders. Had he killed Dr. Owens?

  Had it been a dream?

  Or had it been reality?

  * * *

  As soon as Dan Henderson heard that Trey Winston was on the estate, he stepped inside Kate Winston’s sumptuous all-white master bedroom suite and spoke quietly to her while she was handling some correspondence from her desk. He let her know he was going to be right back and brought up another agent to stand guard outside her door.

  Moving silently through the house and down the wide mahogany staircase, he went looking for Trey. One of the agents said he had gone into the library. When he knocked on the library door, then walked in, he was brought up short. Trey and Debra were playing kissy face near the desk. “Henderson, aren’t you supposed to be watching my mother?” Trey said, his eyes never leaving Debra.

  Newlyweds, Dan thought. He had more important things on his mind than romance, but he smiled at Trey’s wry tone. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with your wife, sir.”

  “That’s all right,” Debra said. I was just leaving. “I’ll go up and see Kate. You’ll join me after Agent Henderson is finished?

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  Walking past him, she smiled, blowing Trey a kiss from the door, slipping out and leaving the door ajar.

  “What is it? My mother...” Trey said, his blue eyes, so like his mother’s, looking immediately worried.

  Dan shook his head. “She’s fine. Everything is quiet.”

  “But something is bothering you.”

  “Yes. Were you aware that Captain Winston moved off the estate?”

  “I’m aware. We argued about it, but, Dan, Sam is a mess right now and he’s understandably upset about Mike Harris. He wanted to be on his own. He’s rented a house over near Six Forks Road. Under the circumstances, I can understand his pain. He and Mike were extremely close.”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea for him to be at a different location rather than here at the estate where we can give him protection?”

  “You’re talking about Sam, right?” Trey laughed. “Dan, he’s a U.S. Army Ranger. He can take care of himself. He wasn’t targeted. My mother was.”

  “With all due respect, sir, he and Harris were captured and detained at the same Afghani camp, and now with Harris going off the grid, I...”

  “You know I value your opinion. Hell, man, you saved my mother. I’m glad to finally see you up and about.”

  “Yeah, on a cushy security detail,” he groused.

  Trey smiled. “The estate is pretty cushy.”

  Dan laughed. “Yes, sir.”

  “What is it about Sam that is bothering you?”

  “During my recovery, I had time to think about this. What could have happened at that place or to them...I mean, for such a dedicated soldier like Harris to turn against his own country and try to commit murder? As you said, sir, Harris was tough, both mentally and physically. He was in Special Forces. It just makes me twitch and spin conspiracy theories.”

  “Like what?”

  “I wasn’t here that night and I didn’t witness Harris’s meltdown, but another agent was and he was described as being disoriented. Thad even discovered the chief of police was involved and that this might go higher than we all think.”

  “I’m aware of that, but all we can do at this point is let the feds do their job, while it’s business as usual for us.”

  “But, sir. If Harris and your brother were captured together and your brother even admitted that there might be government involvement...aren’t you worried that Captain Winston—”

  “What the hell are you saying? Are you accusing my brother of being involved in some crazy political organization?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Trey stiffened and his mouth flattened out. “Well, you’d better explain it and explain it to me good. Sam has been through enough and I won’t take anything said about him lightly.”

  “I understand, sir. I’m just concerned that he’s out there alone with all that’s come to light.”

  “I trust Sam with my life. He would never hurt anyone in this family, ever. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t bring this up again.”

  Trey walked past him and out the library door. Dan stood there absorbing everything he’d said, but he was still not convinced that Captain Winston wasn’t somehow compromised in this whole situation. His instincts were honed and he’d almost felt that sniper even before the first bullets started to fly.

  He was getting a hinky feeling about Trey’s brother.

  His vow was to protect the former vice president of the United States. He didn’t answer to Trey Winston, although the man had powerful connections and could cause quite a few problems with his superiors. But Dan was never one to give a damn about chain of command. He’d taken a bullet for Kate Winston and he wasn’t about to let anything else happen to her.

  Dan was going to keep his eye on Sam Winston whenever he was anywhere near his mother.

  Chapter 2

  Sam stepped into the foyer of his family’s estate. He paused in the hall, not sure if his mother was upstairs or down in the sitting room.

  “If you’re looking for your mother, she’s out near the pool enjoying a cup of tea.”

  Maddie Fitzgerald smiled at Sam, her plump face and eyes crinkling. She had been at the Adair Estate ever since Sam could remember. He adored her. She used to sneak him a chocolate chip cookie every day before dinner, saying that a strapping boy like him needed the calories and it wouldn’t at all
ruin his dinner.

  “I was. Thanks, Maddie.”

  “How are you, Sam?”

  Her sympathetic eyes roved over his face as she squeezed his forearm.

  “I’m trying to just take one day at a time.”

  “Best way to handle it. I just took a batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.” She winked at him. “I’ll be serving luncheon in about fifteen minutes, but I’m sure it won’t spoil your lunch.”

  He laughed even though he was here to deliver very unhappy news. With all the death and betrayals they had all experienced in the past few months, the news about Dr. Owens would be taken hard.

  “I’ll come by the kitchen before I leave,” he said.

  Sam made his way through the house. When he got to the pool area and walked down the stairs, Agent Dan Henderson moved in front of him.

  “Captain Winston? Is everything all right?”

  “No, not really,” he said to the dedicated agent. He was probably about six years younger than Sam, tall, fit, his dark blond hair combed off his face, his green eyes wary and alert. He filled out his suit jacket with a pair of broad shoulders that had sheltered his mother during the shooting. Sam was humbled by the younger man who, from reports he’d heard, had selflessly and courageously thrown himself in front of his mother. The bullet had almost killed him.

  “Sam.”

  Sam turned around to find his brother Trey, dressed as usual in a dark gray summer-weight, impeccably cut suit with a red power tie, coming down the stairs. His wife, Debra, her belly slightly rounded with their child, was beside him.

  Debra hugged him hard and didn’t let go for a few minutes. Sam indulged her. She was a good match for his brother and he was happy for them. “Hello, Debra. How are you doing?”

  “Fine. We’re happy to see you, Sam. How about you?”

  She clasped his upper arms after she let him go, her sweet, pretty face full of concern. She’d been working for his mother ever since she’d been in the White House. He forced a smile for her sake and said, “One day at a time.”