Operation Midnight

by Sharon C. Cooper

  As a world-renowned artist, Olivia traveled around the world, her work featured in some of the most famous galleries as well as national art magazines. He was proud of her success and since reuniting, he traveled with her whenever he could.

  “You’re so overprotective. I was shocked you didn’t sick one of Malik’s bodyguards on me while you were away.”

  He had thought about it. That nagging sensation from earlier, which still lingered, had started days before he left Chicago. Normally when he got that churning in his gut, something bad happened soon after.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  He pulled back slightly. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  She gave a slight shrug. “It seems you’ve been distracted lately and like now, you’re tense. Even our telephone conversations while you were away felt as if something was going on. Is there something going on? Is there something I should know?”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want to worry her, especially since he didn’t know what his problem was. And he didn’t want to lie since he never had before. The moment the thought popped into his head, a time in their past came to mind. A time when he hadn’t been completely honest with her.

  He shook the thought free, their bodies swaying in sync. “Everything is fine. Actually, better than fine. Do you realize that in one month, two weeks, and three days, you’ll officially be my wife again?”

  She leaned back and laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe you’re actually counting down the days.”

  His brows drew together. “Aren’t you?” He dipped her, causing her to squeal and burst into a fit of giggles before he pulled her back up. His number one goal in life was to keep her happy and her infectious laugh was music to his ears. “I was even thinking we should get married sooner.”

  “Cameron, I can’t wait to marry you, too. However, January first is right around the corner. The day will be here before we know it. Besides, the last time we were married in a courthouse. This time I want a beautiful wedding with your family and our friends there.”

  They had originally planned to marry the month before, but had postponed due to their traveling schedules. They agreed then that they would make changes in their careers to where neither of them would have to travel as much. In addition, she had insisted that he not take on assignments that would put him in any unnecessary danger, which was partly why she had left him nine years ago. He had his reasons for not fighting the divorce at the time, but now he was playing for keeps.

  A half an hour later, after everyone had left, Wiz wrapped his arm around Olivia’s waist and guided her out of the banquet room.

  “I’ll be right back. I need to stop by the banquet manager’s office and sign off on the bill. Want to walk with me or meet me upstairs?” Earlier, she had complained about her feet hurting. Why she insisted on wearing four-inch heels was a mystery to him.

  “It shouldn’t take that long. I’ll wait near the elevator.”

  “Sounds good. Be there in a few.” He kissed her and walked in the opposite direction. When he arrived at the banquet manager’s office, the door was locked. So he headed to the front desk.

  Wiz slowed his steps when the unnerving feeling from earlier returned. He glanced around as his gaze quickly took in the lobby area. Two people stood at the hotel’s check-in desk. Over to his left, the concierge spoke quietly to a couple near his booth and a small group of men congregated in a sitting area off to the side.

  Nothing seemed out of place. So what was the problem? Something had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. His years in the military had taught him to never ignore his gut feelings and his gut was telling him that something wasn’t right.

  After not seeing anything out of place, he shook the thought loose and ran his hand down the length of his paisley print tie. Tonight he needed to just focus on his wife.

  He talked with the front desk clerk and made arrangements to meet with the banquet manager to square up the next morning. Anxious to get back to Olivia, Wiz agreed to stop by the office before they checked out the next day.

  Heading toward the elevators, he took another glance around, feeling as if he were being watched, but still saw nothing out of the norm.

  Man, you need to get a grip.

  “I’m not interested,” Wiz heard Olivia ground out just as he turned the corner. She shook out of a man’s grasp and sidestepped him.

  “Oh come on, baby. Don’t be—”

  Wiz snatched the guy by the back of his jacket and slammed him against the wall. He cringed at the amount of alcohol seeping through the man’s pores.

  “What part of not interested don’t you understand, asshole?” Wiz growled close to the man’s ear and jerked his arm behind his back.

  “Ow!”

  Wiz smashed the side of the drunk’s head against the wall, trying like hell to rein in his anger as to not snap his neck.

  “Th-that hu-hurts,” he stuttered, his words slow and slurred.

  “Cameron, please,” Olivia said in a panic. Her hand wrapped around his bicep trying to pull him away. “He’s drunk. He didn’t mean any harm.”

  “He messed up when he put his hands on you.” Wiz added more pressure to the guy’s arm, lifting it higher up his back until he cried out again.

  “Baby, please let him go. You’re causing a scene and someone just went to get security.”

  “Good. I’ll let his ass go when they get here. But in the meantime, there’s a few things I need to say to this punk.”

  “What’s going on here?” a hotel security guard thundered from behind Wiz as another approached from the side.

  “What’s going on is this sonofabitch put his hands on my wife.”

  “Okay. Okay, let’s just calm down. Is that true, sir?” security asked the drunk.

  “I-I didn’t mean …” Wiz increased the grip on the guy’s arm. “Ow! I-I’m sorry.”

  “Okay, sir, we can take it from here. We need you to release him,” the second security guard said.

  Wiz whispered into the drunk’s ear, “You got lucky this time. If you even look at my wife or put your hands on another woman and I find out, your ass is mine.” He released him, but not before giving his arm another upward tug for good measure.

  Wiz stepped back and rubbed his hands down his face, adrenaline still soaring through his veins. With deep breaths in and out, he tried to slow his pounding heart as they took the man away. Seconds ticked by before he turned to Olivia, who was leaning against a wall with her arms folded in front of her and her eyes narrowed.

  “Let’s go,” he said, a slight edge in his voice.

  “What’s going on with you?” she asked when he guided her over to the bank of elevators. “You’ve been uptight since you got back this morning. No, actually, since days before you left and I want to know what’s wrong. That,” she pointed her thumb to the area they’d just left, “wasn’t you.”

  Olivia was right. Though he would admit to being the jealous type and definitely overprotective when it came to her, he rarely lost control or reacted before thinking. As a matter of fact, for the past week he hadn’t quite felt like himself. Impatient, anxious, unfocused, and now quick to anger was definitely not him.

  The elevator arrived and they stepped on. Wiz was glad they were alone. He moved to the back of the car and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d felt a sense of foreboding, but tonight that uneasiness was stronger than ever.

  Whatever was going on with him, he needed to get it under control so he could be ready for whatever was coming … because something definitely was coming.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?” Olivia asked, and pushed the button for the forty-second floor. “Sorry for manhandling the guy? Or for going all … all vigilante on the man? You almost snapped his neck.” She stood in front of Wiz, her arms folded as she looked him over. Well over six feet
tall with startling green eyes that were almost hazel and rarely missed anything, he stared right back at her. His blemish free café au lait skin tone had a slight reddish tint, probably because he was still a little riled.

  What happened to her gentle giant? Sure he wasn’t one to take crap from anyone, but for the past couple of weeks he’d been edgier than normal, and at times short tempered with people. He wasn’t a big talker, but lately he had also been quieter than usual.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.” He sighed and cupped her cheek, caressing it with the pad of his thumb. Lowering her eyes, she leaned into his touch, feeling her defenses melting away. Damn her body for responding to the slightest touch from him. He dropped his hand and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, something he did often. His large hand slid lower, cupping her butt. “We don’t know what his intentions were or whether or not he was defenseless and, sweetheart, you know that. You’ve had enough self-defense training to know that you can never be too careful.”

  She nodded in agreement. She really didn’t know what the man’s intentions were, but she hadn’t felt threatened, even when he touched her arm.

  “Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let some man, any man, put his hands on you and not say something to him.” He squeezed her butt and lowered his head until their mouths touched.

  She moaned against his lips and he held her tighter. He was too irresistible for her to stay mad at him. With every touch, her body surrendered to his will and nothing else mattered.

  God I love this man.

  Slowly allowing her to come up for air, he stared into her eyes and said, “You’re mine and you’re very important to me.”

  Every now and then he spewed words of possession, and with the grasp he had on her ass, he clearly didn’t want her to forget it. How could she? She felt the same as he and probably would have had a similar reaction if a woman had been coming on to him.

  “Maybe I could have handled the situation differently, but,” he shrugged, “I lost it there for a moment. His ass is lucky I didn’t do more to him.”

  Olivia dropped her head to his chest. So much for his apology.

  The elevator opened onto their floor and Wiz wrapped his arm around her waist as they headed to their suite. She slid her arm around his back and leaned close. God she loved this man, even if he did get on her nerves sometimes. She couldn’t wait until they were married. When she asked for a divorce, over nine years earlier, it wasn’t because she didn’t love him. No. Her feelings for her ex-husband had never waned.

  She had never stopped loving him. Due to outside sources, they had gone through so much those first few years of marriage that she had lost herself. On top of that, as a SEAL, when Wiz received calls in the middle of the night saying they were going wheels up, leaving on a mission, after a while she couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle not knowing where. She couldn’t handle being left behind for months on end. Most importantly, she couldn’t handle not knowing if he would return.

  Olivia didn’t know why she thought putting distance between them would help her worry less or better deal with her own issues. If anything, her love for him and fear for his life had grown fiercer, at times crippling her from living her own life. During the years of their separation, she poured herself into her work, her art, while she continued her education to obtain her Master of Fine Arts degree. Now she could admit that back then she had been functionally depressed, unhappy and mentally in a dark place, but still able to do her day-to-day responsibilities.

  She had also been afraid. Afraid of losing Wiz the way she had lost the rest of her family. For whatever reason she thought staying married to him would make her more vulnerable to hurt, to loss.

  They arrived at their room and Wiz opened the door, allowing her to walk in first. Olivia was curious to see how the evening would end. The sweltering heat that had traveled between them on the dance floor less than an hour ago had cooled. And she had a feeling that things were going to get even chillier when she asked him to do something for her. Something she was sure he wouldn’t want to do, but probably would since he rarely said no to her.

  Olivia kicked off her shoes and left them near the “L” shaped sofa before moving to the large windows. She stared out into the night, not surprised to see fat snowflakes floating around. It was mid-November and the thirty-two degree weather was still better than minus five degrees they had experienced in Chicago days earlier. After one last glance at the city lights glittering from nearby buildings and traffic at a standstill below as if it were morning rush hour, she closed the curtains.

  Turning to walk back the way she came, she stopped in her tracks.

  Wiz had already tossed his jacket as well as his tie onto a nearby upholstered chair and had just pulled his shirttail out of his slacks. Their gazes connected and he knew what she wanted. She loved watching him undress. He took his time undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, and shrugged out of it, tossing it on the chair with the other items. Her mouth watered as his muscles contracted with each move. The intricate details of a tattoo, a massive eagle with its wings spread wide, covered his upper back.

  When he slowly turned toward her, the tattoo on his left shoulder—bearing her name in bold, block letters—sent warmth to her heart. Then her gaze took in his chiseled chest.

  Magnificent.

  His broad shoulders, huge biceps, and an eight pack that a personal trainer would envy was on full display. The man’s body didn’t have a lick of fat and she couldn’t wait to run her hands over every toned inch of his beautiful physique.

  He dropped his pants, leaving on his black, boxer briefs, showing off powerful thighs, and long, toned legs. It was all she could do not to run across the room and leap into his arms.

  Flawless.

  Clearly the heat between them hadn’t cooled as much as she first thought. His gaze caressed her body so intimately it was like she could feel his touch. Feel his large hands slide slowly down the length of her body. Feel every stroke of his fingers and the erotic heat that they transmitted.

  It might have only been a few days since they’d been intimate, but in the past few weeks, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him. If she wasn’t thinking about kissing his full, luscious lips, she was imagining him being buried deep inside of her.

  “I recognize that look.” He adjusted himself and she squeezed her thighs together when the intense ache in her core intensified.

  “And what look is that?”

  “The one where you want to rip off all of my clothes and jump my bones.”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh, you know me so well.” They moved forward at the same time, meeting in the middle. His briefs barely contained the erection that was now pressed against her belly. “And I see that you’re ready for me,” she purred.

  “Sweetheart, I’m always ready for you.” He captured her lips, kissing her with a hunger that rivaled hers. The velvet warmth of his mouth sent desire shooting throughout her body. Everything he did, he did with precision, and kissing was no different as his tongue tangled with hers and he explored her mouth. It felt so good to be in his arms, but she needed to ask him something. Something that couldn’t wait. But his demanding lips didn’t let up and she didn’t want them to.

  Maybe they could talk later … much later, after they got reacquainted.

  With one last peck against her lips, he lifted his head and then touched his forehead to hers. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Unbelievable.

  There had to be some type of vibe she gave off whenever she wanted to discuss something with him. Because it never ceased to amaze her how he could sense certain things.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  He moved behind her and lowered the zipper of her dress. Inching the silky material down her body, he placed feathery kisses on the side of her neck and goosebumps spread everywhere his lips touched. Her body trembled and her knees went weak, but he had an arm wrapped around her
waist holding her steady.

  He lifted her hair off her neck and his mouth worked its way down. “I see you’re wearing one of my favorite bra and panty sets,” he mumbled against her shoulder. She wondered if he realized that he said that about every set she wore.

  Olivia leaned back against him, shutting her eyes when his big, strong hands covered her breasts. She moaned as he tweaked her nipples until they were hard pebbles pushing against her lace bra.

  This man knew how to make her hot and wet. His mouth went back to her neck, licking, nipping, and biting, sending erotic tingles to the tip of her toes.

  Oh yeah, they could talk later.

  “Tell me.”

  Okay so much for talking later.

  But she couldn’t think straight with his hard body grinding against hers and the heat from his hands shooting sparks to every nerve ending. And those lips… She groaned. She was defenseless when his lips touched her skin.

  To her dismay, he stopped the mind-altering torture and wrapped his arms tight around her, his breathing as rapid as hers. Clearly he was trying to get himself under control. He turned her and his hands slid slowly down the sides of her body, stopping on her hips.

  “Talk to me.” He backed her out of the living room and into the bedroom, not stopping until the back of her knees bumped the edge of the bed.

  Olivia sighed dramatically. “Well, if you must know, I was thinking about the wedding present I want you to give me.”

  A smile tilted the corner of his mouth before laughter rumbled inside his chest. Considering how distracted and uptight he had been most of the night, it was nice to hear him laugh.

  “Isn’t marrying me gift enough?” He gripped her bottom and lifted her onto the bed as if she weighed nothing and then laid down next to her. Lying on his side, he propped himself up on his elbow. “Why do I have to get you a wedding present?”

  “I’ll admit, marrying you is the best gift of all.” She ran her hand over his hard chest, loving the way his muscles contracted under her touch. “But I know you’ve been trying to think of the perfect gift.”