by Paige Tyler
Landon’s mouth was tentative at first, but then all at once the kiss became urgent, intoxicating, his tongue finding hers and slow dancing with it. The rich emotional response she’d experienced back in the makeshift tent that first night in the Colombian jungle didn’t compare to the things she was feeling now. He was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of, and she kissed him back just as fiercely as he was kissing her.
Her hands found their way into his hair, twisting it between her fingers and pulling him closer. Her mouth opened with a willingness and hunger that almost shocked her. Her whole body was responding, trembling with need.
She slid her hands down the front of his chest to the bottom of his T-shirt and urgently pushed it up. Underneath, he was all smooth skin and rock-hard muscle. She moaned appreciatively as she ran her fingers over every glorious ripple. He felt as incredible as he looked.
She pushed his shirt higher, trying to take it off, but Landon interrupted her by doing a little exploring of his own. His hands found their way beneath her top and were slowly gliding up her midriff. When they cupped her satin-covered breasts, she almost purred. When his fingers caressed her nipples, that almost purr turned into a deep-throated moan.
Some tiny corner of her mind tried to tell her this was a mistake, that she and Landon shouldn’t be risking their partnership for a few stolen kisses and a groping session. But pushing him away was more difficult than she ever imagined. It was like convincing her body to stop breathing.
But she had to. If she didn’t, she was going to completely lose control. And that would be beyond bad.
Landon must have come to a similar conclusion, because he dropped his hands and pulled back at the same time she did. His face was flushed, his eyes smoldering in the darkness. She could hear his heart beating hard.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “I’m sorry.” His breathing was ragged, making his deep voice even huskier than usual. “I didn’t mean to kiss you. I just…”
She touched her finger to his lips, silencing him. “Stop. I won’t accept apologies for what just happened. You weren’t kissing me—we were kissing each other.”
He caught her hand and gently pulled her finger away from his lips. “You’re my partner, Ivy. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you, either. But I did.” And God help her, she wanted to do it again. She took a deep breath. “We can’t let it happen again.”
If they did, there was no telling what would happen. She’d been so close to ripping off his clothes and pouncing on him.
Landon sat back and rubbed his hand across his face. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were full of remorse. “I don’t want you to think I’m going to turn into another Jeff.”
The pain in his voice cut her to the core, and she wanted to reach out to cup his face but didn’t trust herself. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.” She gave him an embarrassed smile. “Besides, it wouldn’t be an issue of you attacking me against my will. It’d be about me not having the will to want you to stop. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m seriously attracted to you.”
His mouth edged up. “Ditto. But you’re right. We can’t let it happen again.”
“Okay, then. I won’t lay any more kisses on you, and you don’t lay any on me. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Sleeping beside a guy like him in a tent this small would be asking a lot of any woman, but after a kiss like the one they’d shared, it was tantamount to torture. Jumping his bones wasn’t an option. She wasn’t going to succumb to her desires no matter how much her body might want it.
That promise would have carried a lot more weight if her lips hadn’t still been tingling from his kiss.
Chapter 7
The moment they got back to the DCO offices, Todd took Landon into one conference room to be debriefed, while Kendra led Ivy into another.
“I knew it! You two are good together,” Kendra said. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re not wrong,” Ivy said. “We are good. Maybe too good.” She chewed on her lower lip, remembering how she’d fallen asleep on Landon’s shoulder on the flight back. “In fact, I’m worried we’re getting along too well.”
Kendra took a seat and motioned for her to do the same. “What the heck does that mean?”
How was she going to explain it to Kendra? It sounded crazy to her. “Promise me none of this will show up in the official records.”
Kendra made a face. “Do you even have to ask that?”
Ivy knew she didn’t. Kendra would never say anything she told her in confidence. “I’m more than a little attracted to Landon.”
“A little attracted?” Kendra lifted a brow. “I’m attracted to him and I don’t even get to have the fun you do rolling around the floor with him during hand-to-hand combat practice.”
Ivy blushed. “Okay, so maybe I’m more than a little attracted to him. In fact, it’s damn near impossible to be around him without wanting to jump on him like he’s some kind of kitty chew toy.”
“Landon-scented catnip, huh? Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Kendra sat back in her seat with a grin. “I knew I picked the perfect teammate for you.”
Huh? “What do you mean, you picked the perfect teammate?”
Kendra gave her a smug look. “You don’t think running around here with a stopwatch and a clipboard is my only job, do you? I’m a behavioral psychologist in case you’ve forgotten. With all the problems you had with your first two partners, I convinced John to finally let me try out the interpersonal compatibility algorithms I’ve been working on. I put in everything the DCO knows about your skills, your personality, your strengths and weaknesses, then added in everything I know about you personally. Using that, I scoured every federal database out there to find the one guy who would match up with you perfectly. You know, the ultimate yin to your yang. My program identified that person as Landon Donovan. Of course, I had to really sell my idea in order to get John to give the okay to scoop Landon out of Special Forces, but let me tell you, he’s patting himself on the back right now.”
Clearly John wasn’t the only one pleased with himself. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you found my new partner with a homemade package of matchmaker software?”
“Yeah.” Kendra grinned. “Pretty good, don’t you think?”
Ivy stared at her friend in disbelief. She thought she’d hit the lottery jackpot with Landon, but now it turned out the game had been rigged. No wonder they worked together like a well-oiled machine—Kendra was clearly brilliant when it came to understanding team dynamics.
She frowned again. “Hold on a minute. Go back to the part where you said you programmed your software with personal things you know about me. What kind of things?”
Her friend shrugged. “Normal stuff. Like the fact that you prefer tall men with broad shoulders and six-pack abs. That you go for guys with dark hair and soulful eyes. That you want a man to be a gentleman out of bed, but an animal in it—”
Ivy’s face colored hotly. “I never told you that.”
“Well, I had to make a few assumptions based on the things you said.” A smile teased the corners of Kendra’s mouth. “You probably don’t realize it, but you let some revealing stuff slip now and then. Did I get any of the parameters wrong?”
Actually, her friend was right about all of them. But Ivy wasn’t going to tell Kendra that.
“So, how the heck do you scan a federal database for information on whether a guy is an animal in bed or not?”
“That took a little extra work,” Kendra admitted. “Let’s just say that you can learn a lot about a man from hacking into his social networking sites, and those of every person that has ever met him.” She said that last part like even she was surprised at what she’d done. “You can learn even more by seeing what their flings and exes have to say about them. Accor
ding to them, Landon has mad skills in bed.”
The thought of Landon with another woman sent an irrational surge of jealousy through Ivy. She immediately stomped on it. Sitting back, she folded her arms.
“Well, just because you seemed to have found the perfect partner for me, it doesn’t mean I’m going to be sleeping with him.”
“Why not? And don’t tell me it’s because of that silly DCO rule about partners not getting romantically involved.” Kendra shook her head. “John uses that same lame excuse every time I bring up the subject of allowing teammates to get together on a more meaningful level if they want to. All of the data supports my hypothesis that teams work at their most efficient and optimal level when they’re compatible in every way, and that includes sexually. If an operative is attracted to his or her partner, it’s completely natural for them to have sex with each other. Denying something so instinctive and primal isn’t only impossible, it’s foolish.”
Giving in to it would be foolish. But what if she couldn’t control herself? What if Kendra was right, and it was instinctive and primal?
“Even if I wanted to sleep with Landon, I can’t. I don’t trust myself with him.”
“What do you mean?”
Ivy sighed. “All we did in South America was kiss and—”
Kendra bolted upright. “Wait a minute. You kissed?”
“Yes, we kissed. And I just about tore off his clothes.” Which just about scared the hell out of her.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when you can’t control yourself. When your eyes glow green and your claws come out.” Ivy ran her hand through her hair. “Do you know how many men I’ve slept with since college? Three. They were all one-night stands and the sex was terrible. Why? Because I couldn’t let go with them. I was terrified if I did, I’d turn into an animal in front of them.”
Kendra’s lips curved. “Every man wants an animal in bed.”
Ivy frowned. “You’re not helping.”
“But Landon already knows what you are. You don’t have to hide it from him.” Kendra reached over and covered her hand. “According to my compatibility software, you’re perfect for each other.”
“Your software is wrong. Just because I’m a shifter doesn’t mean I’m an animal who does things based on instincts and primal urges alone, you know. I have a say in what I do and how I act.” She folded her arms, pinning her friend with a look. “Let me ask you something. Have you ever tried this wonderful interpersonal compatibility software out on yourself to find your perfect partner?”
Kendra’s face colored and she looked away. “Of course not. That would be completely unprofessional.”
Ivy had no doubt Kendra used the software program to see if she and Clayne were compatible. She’d love to see what the computer had to say about that particular pairing.
***
Landon had been debriefed many times, but none like this. Apparently, the hard drive he and Ivy had recovered was everything the DCO had been looking for and more. While John was thoroughly impressed, Dick, sitting on the other side of the table from Landon, was pissed.
Apparently, Kendra was right when she warned Landon about Dick—he sure acted like he wished they’d failed. While John praised their ability to adapt when the Black Hawk dropped them earlier than anticipated, Dick pointed out they wouldn’t have had to adapt if they’d had a better plan to begin with. He also wasn’t pleased that Calballero and some of his men had ended up dead.
Landon had to bite his tongue to keep from telling Dick to shove it up his ass. He recognized a desk-bound warrior when he saw one. It was obvious this jerk had never seen any real action. The most danger he’d probably faced was getting a paper cut. “While the goal was to get in and out without hostile action, the ultimate objective was to get the information—whatever the cost.”
Dick couldn’t say much about that. They’d been John’s exact words during the mission briefing. Undoubtedly, there was a tape somewhere.
“That guy is such a moron,” Landon muttered to Ivy as they walked down the hall a little while later.
She looked like she was about to wholeheartedly agree, but stopped, a frown creasing her brow. She cocked her head to the side as if listening to something.
“What’s up?” he asked.
She put her fingers to her lips and motioned him closer to the conference room where he’d had his debriefing earlier. Landon didn’t need Ivy’s super hearing to pick up the raised voices inside, even with the door closed.
“Accomplishing a single mission doesn’t mean Halliwell and Donovan are certified,” Dick said loudly. “I think they need more training.”
“Wasn’t it you who insisted they were so experienced they didn’t need all that training?” John countered. “You were obviously right. They got the mission done.”
“Barely.”
“But they got it done and that trumps every rule in your silly-ass book.”
Dick made an impatient sound. “Those rules were put into place by the top people in the organization. People who fund the DCO, I might remind you.”
“You don’t have to remind me where the money comes from, or the strings attached to it. I notice you didn’t seem to have a problem breaking those rules when you forced me to put Halliwell and Donovan in the field. Well, they got the job done, and now, according to your bureaucratic rules, they’re certified. Which is a good thing. If the intel we have on this guy Stutmeir is good, we’re going to need every operative we can get, especially with Tate’s team already on a mission in Washington state.”
“Okay, so they’re certified,” Dick snapped. “But aren’t you the least bit curious why Halliwell gets along with Donovan when she couldn’t stand either of her previous partners?”
“Besides the fact that you selected them for her? No, I’m not.”
“I sure as hell am.” A pause. “I think they’re sleeping together.”
Landon slanted Ivy a sharp look. He could tell from the panic on her face she was thinking the same thing—that the next words out of Dick’s mouth would be an order to split them up.
In the conference room, John swore. “You’re just making up shit to wreck this team, aren’t you? Just like you did the last time two of my operatives performed so well the heat finally started to disappear off the shifter program.”
“I’m not making up anything,” Dick ground out. “On the contrary, I’m doing my job.”
“And which job would that be?” John demanded. “The one the DCO pays you for or the one your friends up on the Hill tell you to do?”
“If I were director—”
“You’re not,” John reminded him. “The Committee put me in charge.”
Dick sputtered, but John cut him off. “I let you split up one team because you thought they were sleeping together, and I’m still dealing with the fallout from it. There’s no way I’m letting you do the same thing to Ivy and Landon. They’re too good to break up.”
“It’s not up to you,” Dick said. “It’s up to the Committee, and I’ll be giving them a full report on your new team, including my suspicions.”
“Knock yourself out, Dick,” John told him. “You’re not the only one with friends in high places, you know. I’ll be giving full reports of my own. And something tells me that my words will carry more weight than yours when it comes to field operations.”
Landon smirked. He would’ve hung around to hear what else the two men said, but Ivy grabbed his arm and pulled him away. She dragged him around a corner just as Dick stormed out. Okay, so his hearing still wasn’t as good as hers.
“Why does that asshole have such a hard-on for the field teams?” he asked Ivy.
She peeked around the corner to make sure Dick was gone, then started for the front entrance. “It’s not all the field teams. Just the ones with shifters on them. He hates us.
He thinks we’re all a bunch of animals that should be locked up in a zoo.”
“Good thing he’s not in charge then.”
She let out a snort. “Tell me about it. If he was, he would have canceled the shifter program already. And if he couldn’t manage that, he wouldn’t be recruiting them off the streets.”
Landon frowned. “What do you mean, off the streets? What were you doing before they recruited you?”
“I came over from the FBI. But Declan was a forest ranger. And Clayne was…” She made a face. “Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law when they recruited him. And Lucy—you haven’t met her yet—used to be a public defender in Boston.”
A lawyer? Landon wondered if she was part shark. He wasn’t surprised about Buchanan, though. He’d love to know the story behind that one. But even more, he wanted the story about Ivy’s FBI background. She was so graceful he thought for sure she must have been a dancer or something. Now that he thought about it, though, it made sense. While she looked like a ballerina, she carried herself like a cop.
“Anyway,” she said. “Who cares what Dick thinks? John has our backs, so as long as he’s around, we’re okay.”
Chapter 8
When they got to the training area the next day Landon found Todd and Kendra as well as a few more training officers and a dozen other operatives—including Buchanan—gathered around a pit filled with mulch. A telephone pole was mounted horizontally across it, and pugil sticks lay on the ground on either end. Since he didn’t think they were going to be playing a game of American Gladiators, the stick meant the next best thing—combative training. Which was just another term for beat the shit out of each other. Landon noticed there weren’t any protective helmets or gloves lying around. Hardcore. Hooah. Man, he hadn’t done this kind of thing since infantry school—or was it during some down time at language school? It’d been so long since he had combative training, he couldn’t remember when it was.
