by Laurie Roma
“God, I love you. That was amazing.” He kissed the top of her head as he continued to pant for breath. “It’s a damn good thing my desk is solid or I would have to kill Devon for seeing you down here.”
Tara let out a breathless laugh. “It’s not entirely his fault. We didn’t lock the door.”
“An oversight that will never happen again.” He pulled back to look at her. “What the hell did you do to my cock? It was like…hot and cold all at once. It felt incredible.”
She grinned at him. “Altoids.”
He stared at her in disbelief.
“It works for me as well,” Tara said slyly.
A slow smile spread across Julian’s face. “We’ll have to see about that later, won’t we?”
Chapter Sixteen
An hour into the flight back to Chicago had most of the occupants of the private jet sprawled out sleeping in the various seats. They had decided to take the Mac Securities plane back to Chicago, all of them piling into the lush interior with ease. It was a large plane with everything the agents could want, with as much hardware as Air Force One itself. Tara stared out the window of the plane with unseeing eyes, thinking about her situation with Julian, wondering what the hell she was going to tell people back home.
Her attention shifted as Mikayla sat down on the seat next to her. “Why aren’t you sleeping? You know as soon as we land Bella is going to have us doing all kinds of wedding shit for her.”
Tara shrugged. “I got a solid eight last night.”
Mikayla’s eyes widened in surprise. She shot a quick glance over to Julian and then raised a brow in question. “Damn, girl, what did he do? Drug you?”
“Naw, he sexed me out.”
“Now you’re just bragging.” Mikayla laughed. “You must have worn him out big-time for him to be passed out now.”
Tara’s smile was devious. “He had an…interesting afternoon today.”
Mikayla chuckled then she sobered. “I want to say something to you and I want you to take it as advice from one of your best friends…Stop being such a jackass.”
Tara blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re sitting here, second-guessing every little thing. Well, stop it. You have a good man there, who looks at you like you’re the fucking world, and here you are talking yourself out of being with him.”
“I’m not,” Tara argued. “It’s just complicated—”
“What isn’t complicated about our lives?” Mikayla countered.
Unlike the rest of the IAD agents on the plane, Mikayla wasn’t one of the tortured souls who left behind a childhood of hell. She had grown up with two loving parents, her father a diplomat stationed overseas. Mikayla had grown up knowing her place in the world and loving her life. Until the day a terrorist had bombed the Embassy where her father worked, killing both her parents while she was at school.
Mikayla’s uncle was a general and had whisked her back to the US, raising her as his own beloved child until she had been old enough to join the military. Mikayla’s uncle was now Commander of the Allied Forces, making him technically their boss as one of the Founders of IAD.
“This life,” Mikayla continued, “what we do, it’s not easy to find someone outside the life that understands. To actually have him know the real you and not the person we have to pretend to be as a cover. Believe me, I know it’s difficult to try and trust someone you haven’t known for that long, but sometimes you just have to go with your gut.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right, but it’s…How do I make this work?”
“How the hell would I know that? I haven’t had a serious relationship in like, ever. Jesus, that’s sad. Anyways, I would kill for what you have. Just because we’re tough-ass bitches that doesn’t make us immune from love.”
Tara looked over at Julian’s sleeping form on the other side of her and smiled. “I do love the stupid son of a bitch,” she sighed. “I’m just nervous about what Mac and Bishop are going to say when I tell them I want to be stationed in Las Vegas.”
“They’ll work it out for you.” Mikayla paused for a second before she spoke again. “Speaking of, you may want to let the guys off the hook. They were only watching out for you. It might seem like we’re equals on the team, but the truth is they will always be protective of us no matter how capable we are.”
Mikayla held up her hands in front of her. “Do you see this? I have fucking calluses on my trigger fingers. It doesn’t matter that I can shoot with both hands…There they are. Do you know how many times someone has to fire a gun in order to get permanent calluses on both hands? My kill record as a sniper is up to one hundred and ninety seven.”
Damn. Tara blinked in surprise. That was a lot.
“I am three people away from having killed two hundred people. How the hell will I ever find someone who can understand that?”
Tara reached out and grabbed her friend’s hands with hers, squeezing gently. Tara had never really thought about the personal struggle the other female agents faced along with her. Tara’s heart clenched at the longing she heard in her friend’s voice. “It’s not like you’re some serial killer. You were a sniper for the US military and now you work to take down terrorists. You’ll find someone. I know you will. And if someone doesn’t understand, fuck them, they don’t deserve you. The guy you end up with better be damn worthy of you or I’m gonna kick his ass. Adding to that, don’t be surprised when Bishop and Slade torture him before they let you actually be happy.”
Rock shifted in his chair across the cabin. He stood and made his way down the aisle toward where the women were sitting. He paused as they looked up at him and almost took a step backward in retreat. “What? Can’t a guy go take a piss?”
“We prefer you did,” Mikayla quipped before he continued on and they heard the door close behind him. “Well, I’m going to try and get some sleep before we get home.” She gave Tara’s hand one last squeeze. “And don’t worry, I’ll hold the gun to your back if you need it on your wedding day.”
Tara smiled as she watched her friend return to her seat where she settled into get some rest. A few seconds later, Rock came out of the bathroom. Tara reached out and grabbed his hand as his passed, pulling him down into the seat Mikayla had just left. He heaved out a large sigh as he sat down. Tara put her head on his shoulder.
“Please don’t be mad at me anymore, Ryan.” She used his real name to make it clear to him how important it was to her.
Rock reached a hand up to stroke over her head. “I wasn’t mad at you, hon, I was just…shit. He’s a good man. Hell, I even like the fucker. But how the fuck are we gonna do without you?”
Tara smiled. She realized for the last several years that she had used the men of IAD as fill-in boyfriends for whenever she needed someone. When she wanted to go out to eat or go to the movies she knew one of them would always be willing. It had saved her from trying to find someone who really touched her heart, but had it also done the same to the men? Maybe with her gone the men in her life could finally move on and find someone to love themselves.
“You are going to be fine. We’ll all be fine,” Tara answered back, finally believing it for the first time.
* * * *
Chicago, Illinois
Upon their arrival in Chicago, Tara and Julian had packed into the waiting SUVs along with the other agents, dropping Rock and Adrian off at their place before heading back to the main apartment complex. Tara had led Julian up to her apartment as the others made their way back to their own.
“We have a few hours before we have to go up to Jason and Bella’s for the rehearsal dinner,” Tara said as she opened the door to her apartment.
“Don’t you have to go to the actual rehearsal or something?”
“We did it earlier by remote. We had stand-ins holding up tablets so we could see where we needed to be and what we needed to do. Gotta love technology.”
Julian followed her in to her living space a
nd looked around with a discerning eye. The space was large and impeccably furnished, but Julian couldn’t help but feel that this was not where she really lived. There was no feeling of warmth, no sense of her in the place. Tara carried her bag straight through to the master bedroom, Julian following her with his own.
Ah, here she is.
Where the rest of her apartment lacked any personal touches, her bedroom was where she lived. There was a queen-size bed with a thick white comforter on top and clothes thrown all over as if her closet had exploded. Knickknacks and trinkets littered every available surface and gave hints of everywhere that she had been.
On the wall was a Japanese Obi, a long, thick strip of material made up of a brilliant kaleidoscope of cranes, fans, and ribbon patterns, with gold threads strewn through the red-and-black backdrop. It was absolutely gorgeous. Julian had never seen the like.
“This would look lovely in our home back in Vegas,” Julian said. He couldn’t help the fission of irritation that ran through him as she hesitated. He had all but laid his heart down at her feet and still…
He knew he had to be patient, but it was starting to wear thin.
“Sure,” Tara said, not really sure of anything when it came to him. “The Obi belonged to my mother. We can bring it when we go back.”
“Does your mother live in Chicago?” Julian asked nonchalantly.
“No.”
Tara could feel his eyes boring into her as he turned to stare at her. She took a deep breath. “She’s dead. My father killed her and himself when I was eight.”
My poor baby…
Julian never knew a woman could continuously break his heart, but she did. She had been through so much in her life and he made a vow that he would do whatever it took to protect her heart. Staring back at the woman before him, Julian knew he would never love another the way he loved her.
“I didn’t tell you so you would feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity.”
“No, you wouldn’t, but you have it anyway.” He walked toward her slowly until he stood directly in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss onto her lush lip. “I love you.”
“Show me,” Tara whispered back.
And he did, knowing that he would walk through the fires of hell to keep her at his side.
* * * *
Hell came in the form of the rehearsal dinner.
Hosted at Jason MacBain and Bella Moretti’s penthouse suite on the top floor of the apartment complex, the place was packed to the seams with IAD agents and family members of both the bride and groom. It was a wide-open, lofted space with exposed brick and an enormous plasma TV over a huge fireplace. There were two huge couches and a love seat centered around a large coffee table. Off to the side was a large dining room table that looked like it could seat an army, and an army there was. A large Christmas tree had been set up in the corner, with presents spilling out from underneath.
Julian was introduced to so many people he barely had time to learn someone’s name before he was passed onto the next. A drink was shoved into his hand as he was passing by someone and a plate of food was given to him in his other.
“A little overwhelming, isn’t it?” Tara leaned into his side and whispered.
“Yes, a little,” Julian admitted.
A short, beautiful brunette with yards of dark, flowing curls came running up, amber eyes sparkling with mirth. Julian blinked in surprised as the woman threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Julian could only raise the drink and plate in his hands so he wouldn’t spill and shoot Tara a questioning glance.
“Julian,” Tara said on a laugh, “meet Bella Moretti, the bride.”
Bella pulled back to smile up at Julian. “Hi, Julian! You don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tara muttered, remembering the birthday party Bella had thrown for her when she told her it was going to be fun to watch her fall for a man. “It’s like you cursed me or something.”
Peals of laughter had Bella all but doubling over. Julian set down his plate and glass on a nearby table as a large man came up to join them.
“Baby, are you behaving yourself?”
“Of course not,” Bella laughed.
“Jason MacBain. You must be Julian King,” Jason said as he offered a hand to Julian. They shook. Jason MacBain was an imposing figure, with gunmetal-gray eyes and shoulder-length black hair tied at the nape of his neck. His voice carried the slightest hint of a Scottish brogue to it, and it had softened when he had spoken to the woman he now had curled up against his side. To Julian, it was almost comical how large the man looked next to the smaller woman.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Julian said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed having you here for the world,” Jason promised. He paused as Brett Michaels walked up to join them.
“Hey, Julian,” Brett greeted him as he slapped a hand down on his shoulder, hard. “It’s nice to meet you in person. Now seems like a good time for Mac and I to have a…private word with you.”
Oh, shit.
“I want everything in working order when you bring him back,” Tara demanded as they led him away. Brett waved a hand at her at her over his shoulder and Julian turned back to send her a look of concern.
“Don’t worry,” Bella said. “They won’t hurt him…much.”
Great. “We’ve already done this round already,” Tara groaned.
Bella winced. “I heard. But I also heard your Julian held his own against Rock. That’s pretty impressive.”
“Rock went easy on him.” Tara’s concern doubled as she noticed several of the other male IAD agents following Julian, Jason, and Brett back into Jason’s home office. “Shit, they’re going to kill him.”
Bella’s gazed flickered over to the men and she worried her lip between her teeth. “Don’t worry. Jason won’t let them hurt him.”
Tara glared at her. “At least you could sound a little convincing when you say that.”
Shannon, a stunning, tall blonde, with electric-blue eyes and a voice that dripped of molasses walked up and joined the women. “Your man is meat, T-rex.”
“Fuck.”
A pan clanged in the kitchen, making Bella spin around at the sound. “Gio, you dirty bastard…don’t you touch my sauce!”
“Language, piccola!” Mrs. Moretti scolded from across the room.
“Sorry, momma,” Bella said over her shoulder as she sped toward the kitchen. “Gio! I’m gonna kill you if you don’t leave that alone!”
Shannon laughed. “I don’t know how those two do it. I would imagine that one of them would have killed the other, working together like they do, but somehow they always seem to pull it off.”
“Have you seen the kitchen in their new restaurant? It’s huge! That way they’ll be able to stay out of each other’s way.” Tara felt a quiver of true worry set in as the door to Julian’s office closed. “Maybe I should go get Julian…”
“Don’t worry so much, sugar. I’m sure they won’t damage him too much.”
“Gee, thanks, Shan.”
Shannon laughed again and threw her arm around Tara’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
“Or several.” She had a feeling she was going to need it.
* * * *
Tara scowled at herself in the mirror.
The dress that Bella had picked out for her wasn’t bad, in fact for a bridesmaid dress, it was actually really nice. It was strapless, with flowing drapes of pale purple fabric spilling from a sweetheart cut that hugged her breasts like it had been painted on her. With colors of winter white, pale purple, and green, Bella’s wedding was bound to look like the Parisian dream she’d always wanted.
That didn’t matter, though.
Like a fucking brand, Julian had left the world’s biggest hickey on her neck. No amount of cover-up was going to help camouflage it unless she went down to the IAD headquarters to grab some of the shit they used when on ops.
And with her luck, someone was going to see her sneaking down there and they’d tell everyone anyways.
No, she was just going to have to deal with it.
And make Julian pay for it later.
The dinner the night before had been fun. After several long minutes of worry, the men had returned Julian to her side, unharmed. Dinner was a lavish affair. Bella had insisted she cook with her partner in crime, Gio Cossi. The food was wonderful and the sounds of talking and laughter had filled the night into the early hours of the morning.
When they returned to Tara’s apartment, she and Julian had made love slowly, touching and tasting one another as if they would never get enough. He had filled her heart with joy and she knew she would want him again and again.
Today.
Tomorrow.
Forever.
The man in question came out of the bathroom, pulling at the cuffs of one of his impeccable thousand-dollar suits. He had chosen a dark gray suit and a pale gray shirt with a tie of lighter silver so that he looked like he belonged on the cover of Fortune Magazine. Julian looked up and stopped in his tracks.
She was glorious.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. It’s nice to see you in something besides black for a change,” he added.
Tara scoffed. “Whatever. What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?” She stabbed a finger up to the love bite he had left on her neck.
It wasn’t that big…Well, okay, maybe it was, but staring at it, Julian couldn’t feel sorry for leaving it on her. In some archaic part of his soul he was delighted that everyone would see it and know that she belonged to him.
