Chasing Fortune (Stealth Ops Book 8)

by Brittney Sahin

  “I think we should talk about that first,” Carter said. “He might help as—”

  “Bait? I doubt we could use him to draw out The Italian. The Italian hasn’t tried to find Santiago, right? Why would he care about Cutter?” Chris challenged.

  “I haven’t tried to draw out The Italian using Santiago, but he may have come for Santiago if he’d known about the CIA’s transport like I did,” Carter said, eyes on Chris. “But—”

  “No, I know what you’re thinking, and fuck no.” Chris was on his feet, and fast, standing directly in front of Carter, and one of Carter’s men was quick to approach, which had Wyatt blocking the guard. When Carter’s man set a hand to his strapped piece, Wyatt casually removed his sunglasses and angled his head, eying the man in challenge.

  “You think The Italian will come for Rory,” Luke clarified Chris’s concerns.

  “He also wants me,” Carter said. “I’m sure you’d be fine using me as bait.” His dark brown, nearly coal-colored eyes focused on Chris, most likely attempting to read him.

  “Let’s wait on picking up anyone for now. Cutter or his people,” Luke spoke up, a firm note of authority in his tone. “We need a plan first. Now that everyone is safe, I say we wait and watch their moves.”

  “That probably makes the most sense,” Chris said in agreement, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he took a step away from Carter.

  “But are we really going to work together?” Wyatt asked once Carter’s guard backed down.

  “What are everyone’s thoughts? This has to be a unanimous decision.” Luke looked to Chris, and Chris turned to peer at Rory.

  “I’m in,” Harper said.

  “Me, too,” Roman agreed.

  “You know how I feel about human traffickers,” A.J. began, “I’m in.”

  “The rest of the team will agree,” Jessica said with a nod, which had Rory letting go of a deep breath.

  “The Italian has to have a private army. He’d need a lot of paid guns to defend his trade routes, prevent them from being used without his permission.” Carter returned to his seat when it appeared they’d be working together. “We’ll need as many people as possible if we’re going to go against him.”

  “I think I know who might be able to help us. That is if The Italian is really even Italian.” Roman’s words had everyone turning to look at him.

  “Who?” Chris asked, an inkling of surprise wrapped around the word.

  “Emilia Calibrisi. She’s the billionaire League leader of Italy,” Roman explained.

  And The League, weren’t they basically rich vigilantes? Rory had heard of them while in Europe, but she’d assumed they were about as real as Batman or Oliver Queen. Then again, she had been dubbed Red Robin Hood and treated like an elusive myth.

  “The League.” The disparaging way Luke said the name hinted that he had personal, possibly negative, feelings regarding the group. But it also sounded as though he believed them to be real. “I know of The League, and my wife’s brother, Harrison, had dealings with them in Ireland.”

  “With Sebastian Renaud?” Carter arched a brow, and Luke nodded. “I was tracking a human-trafficking ring in Europe connected to South America several years ago, and by the time I got there, well, Renaud had killed all the men in charge and rescued the women.”

  Finn and Asher had returned a few seconds ago from making their rounds, and Finn asked, “So, does that make him a good guy or a bad one?”

  “Someone who kidnaps and trades women like cattle is bad in my book, and anyone who stops that from happening is good.” A.J. had a pretty black-and-white view on the matter, and honestly, Rory was with A.J. on this one. She’d seen what these men had done with her own eyes, and they deserved to burn in hell.

  “The League doesn’t sound all that different from us, then,” Finn commented, seemingly in agreement with A.J.’s assessment of Sebastian Renaud.

  “You can trust The League,” Roman said, no hints of indecision in his voice. “I’ve worked with Emilia before. She saved my life. She got stabbed as a result, too.”

  “That happen before you were with us?” Luke asked.

  “Remember that trip I took to Barcelona five years ago to attend my cousin’s wedding?” Roman asked, his hand wrapping around the back of his neck, unease crossing his face. “I met Emilia at the wedding, and well, things sort of went sideways that night.” He visibly swallowed. “But we’ve been friends ever since. I promise, she’s solid.”

  “So, like A.J. said, it sounds like The League does what we do, just without . . .” Finn suddenly dropped his words. He’d been moving his gaze around the table as he talked, but when he spied Carter, Finn froze, as though just now remembering the man was present.

  Well, now Rory was curious for him to finish his statement. Without what?

  “Call her,” Luke instructed. “But I still want to do my own research and reach out to my brother-in-law and get his opinion on what he knows about Sebastian as well.”

  “We can get a jumpstart on the research,” Jessica said.

  “Working with two potential enemies to take down a bad guy,” Chris started, eyes set on Carter before turning to view Rory, “but, I’m in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Can we go as pirates for Halloween?” Elaina asked over FaceTime. Rory was silent for a beat, having forgotten she’d promised to go trick-or-treating with Elaina.

  Liam, who was sitting beside Rory on the couch in the second-floor living room, side-eyed her. He didn’t appear to know what to say, either. It was October 18th, so they might make it back in time, right?

  When an image of the idiot Trott brothers came to mind, Rory pushed away thoughts of those pirate wannabes and smiled. “Pirates, huh? Hopefully, we’ll be back in time.” She didn’t want to break Elaina’s heart.

  “Oh, you’ll be back,” Elaina responded with certainty, a bright smile on her adorable face. Did she know something? Maybe she did. It had happened before, so Rory wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be true. “But, Miss Rory, don’t let him go to the airport,” she added before quickly switching her focus to Bear, who had just jumped on top of Rory’s lap, almost knocking the phone out of her hand.

  Yeah, he needed more training. But he was so cute, especially his love for Elaina.

  “Bear!” Elaina hugged herself with her free arm as if clutching Bear, and Rory shifted Liam’s phone out of reach of Bear’s tongue before he slobbered all over it.

  “Don’t let who go to the airport? What airport?” Rory asked, trying to make sense of the message Elaina had casually tossed out to her. Shit. Someone was beeping in. “Liam, you’ve got a call.” She handed him his phone back, and Bear jumped off the couch and to the floor.

  “Thanks. Elaina, sweetheart, I have to take this. I’ll call you back.” Liam looked to Rory and lowered the phone. “It’s a contact of mine, former MI6. She may know something about The Italian.”

  “Oh, good.” She said goodbye to Elaina, then stood. Liam remained on the couch, and Bear fetched a chewed-up shoe he’d been carrying around and went to town on it.

  Rory was pretty sure Chris had whispered a command to Bear to infil Carter’s room and have at his shoes. And if that were the case, she wasn’t sure if she should be scolding Chris or laughing with him.

  “I’m gonna go to the room and wash up.” She motioned to the door, and Liam nodded.

  The team had been working nonstop since the morning, poring over everything Carter had on The Italian, and Rory had pulled up her encrypted files online for Jessica and Harper.

  The two women were doing something “spy-like” in Rory’s eyes, and it was pretty cool to watch them work. Cyber skills had never been Rory’s strong suit. She was used to researching archives for treasure hunting, but Andrew had taught her a bit here and there as to how to apply some of her skills online. Ugh, Andrew. She didn’t want to think about him or thank him for anything he taught her if he was connected to The Italian.

  Harp
er and Jessica had been in the middle of attempting to pose as smugglers in need of a trade route on the Dark Web—setting bait for The Italian—when Elaina called. Liam took the call, and he and Rory went upstairs so they could talk to her out of earshot of the team.

  Chris had taken that chance to shower. Apparently, researching smugglers all day made him feel physically dirty, not just mentally. She knew that firsthand.

  It was already seven at night, and although Carter’s men had located the yacht chartered by the brunette who’d been the ambulance driver Friday night, they’d stuck to the decision to wait and watch. Track their movements, including only keeping an eye on Andrew for now, even though she had a million questions for her ex.

  Rory quickly walked to the suite she and Chris shared and found the door unlocked. She slipped inside but instantly shut the door behind her at the sight of Chris standing naked in the shower. “Um, what if it wasn’t me who just walked in on you?”

  Chris really did have the “Ass of America”—his glutes were firm and quite possibly carved from steel. Holy hell. At least he had the blinds pulled so no one outside got a view of that body. She was greedy and didn’t want to share.

  He slowly turned beneath the water and eyed her through the glass wall. “I have a thing against locks lately, go figure.” As he washed the soap out of his hair, Rory’s eyes followed the bubbles trailing down his body, all the way to his cock, which seemed to be acknowledging her presence.

  She blinked, forgetting why she’d returned to the room. Seeing Chris standing there in all his naked glory, his muscles and body a thing of beauty, had her inhaling sharply. That Nietzsche quote he’d said to her last week, something about darkness beneath pretty surfaces, well, that didn’t apply to him. No, Chris’s kindness and big heart were even more beautiful than his exterior—which was saying something.

  And wow, did she want him. She had no idea if or when they’d be alone again with so much work to do, but . . .

  She quickly turned and locked the door. “And I have a thing against someone walking in on me while I have sex, so I win. Door is being locked.” She removed her sandals and turned to face him.

  He’d finished rinsing his hair and was now looking at her. She brought her hands to the hem of her shirt and skimmed them slowly over the material before taking hold and peeling it over her head.

  Chris walked out from beneath the showerheads and set his hands to the glass, eyes riveted to her. Steam danced across the glass, and he swiped it away to clear his view. “Are you sure?”

  She unsnapped the bra that was a bit too snug—and not her usual brand—then flung it over her shoulder. “I’m very sure,” she responded under her breath as her heartbeat challenged her vocal cords.

  Music would help drown out her moans as well as ease her mind about where she was and why. She wanted to be in the moment without any distractions, so she went to the radio by the bed and searched for a station.

  Country station? Score. And the Chris Stapleton song Starting Over was freaking perfect in her mind.

  She turned her focus back to Chris, who remained waiting. Watching.

  Her teeth skirted the line of her lower lip as she made her way his direction. But her skinny jeans were on the snug side, and she wasn’t exactly ballerina-graceful trying to get them off. So, what started as a striptease as she traced her hands down her breasts and lowered her zipper, ended up being a combination of awkward tugs and wobbles that nearly had her face-planting on the floor. And that gorgeous man smirked at her near mishap. She saw the little lift at the corner of his mouth after he swiped more of the steam from the glass, clearly enjoying her baby giraffe impression.

  Real smooth. But the beautiful smile on his face was so worth it.

  Down to her pink panties, she hooked her thumbs at the sides and slowly pushed them to her thighs, then to her ankles, and stepped out of them.

  Standing on the opposite side of the glass, she matched the placement of his hands with hers and positioned her naked body against the barrier between them.

  “You’re torturing me,” he accused, his lust-filled eyes raking over her exposed flesh as her breath began fogging up the glass.

  “That’s the point,” she teased back, adding more pressure to her chest. The sound of his accompanying groan had her heart beating erratically. Excitement and need burned inside her, and desire propelled her body toward his.

  She did her best to take slow and seductive steps—well, as seductive as possible, to get to her man. And he was hers in every conceivable way. Fate brought them together for a reason.

  Chris turned to face her, hands knotted at his sides as his gaze began a lazy journey starting at her bare feet and climbing upward.

  He paused at the scar she’d gotten in Colombia and swallowed hard, then moved on to linger on her breasts before wandering up to her face. Her nipples tingled in anticipation of his rough fingers pinching and pulling them.

  Passion and love burned in his gaze when their eyes met.

  This wasn’t going to be just sex. She knew there would be nothing casual about it. Felt that truth in every molecule of her body.

  One step. One small movement and Chris’s hand banded around her hip and drew her to him.

  She swept her palms up the ridges of his abdomen, to his pecs and over his broad shoulders, and clasped them behind his neck, her eyes locked with his the entire time.

  He moved their bodies beneath the water like they were slow dancing and pushed her back against the cool tiled wall as he crushed his mouth over hers with fervor. She felt his hunger for her in every sweep and stroke of his tongue.

  Slipping her hands free, Rory dragged her fingertips down his muscular back before curving her hands around his mouthwatering ass.

  Hands on the wall over her shoulders, Chris leaned closer. His hard length against her stomach a sensual contrast to the softness of the water gliding down their skin. Whispers and moans of pleasure echoed off the walls and surrounded them as they stood beneath the warm spray.

  Rory arched her back, desperate for his touch, and he lowered a hand from the wall to palm her breast and lightly pinch her nipple.

  His other hand took a tortuous journey down her silhouette before shifting between their bodies to cup her sex.

  Water droplets rained onto her upturned face while she allowed herself to melt into the pleasure of his hands. Chris kissed the drops from her mouth before his tongue parted her lips and twined with hers, all the while moving the pad of his thumb over and around her sensitive skin.

  His cock was heavy against her as their bodies remained pinned together, his lips stealing her breath while water drummed down over them.

  “Chris!” When she cried out against his mouth, he reached for her thighs and urged her legs around him, lifting and then holding her against the wall.

  Her legs wrapped tight around his hips, and she moved her sex up and down his length, anxious to feel his cock inside her. Right now. No waiting. She needed this.

  Chris braced a hand to the wall while the other remained tightly cupped to her ass. He angled his head and brought his mouth close to hers. “I need to go see if Carter stocked the nightstands,” he let out on a sigh, distressed he would have to leave her, dismayed he may not find what he needed.

  “I have an IUD.”

  “IED?” He blinked, humor lighting his eyes.

  “Only you would say that.” She nipped his lip. “Birth control. We don’t have to use anything if you don’t want to. I’m safe.”

  “I am, too.” He pressed his mouth to hers for a sweet but intense kiss. “You sure?”

  She draped her arms over his shoulders, keeping her ankles hooked around his body, her back flat to the wall for support. “I’m sure, but if you’re not ready to do that, I—”

  “I’m more than fucking ready,” he rasped, the water making his lashes inky black, his blue-green eyes shining beneath the shower.

  Beautiful inside and out.

  Her hair w
as a wet mess, and she probably had eyeliner streaking down her face, but she didn’t care.

  She needed this moment with him more than any thrill she’d chased on any of her adventures around the world.

  “I have no more secrets. Nothing else between us,” she whispered. “I just want you. This.”

  His brows sagged at her words, and he closed his eyes.

  Ohh. Her legs nearly fell to the ground at that painful expression on his face. “I have one more secret,” he confessed.

  Her stomach knotted, and every muscle in her body grew tight with dread. And her legs finally did fall, rooting her feet to the ground.

  “I work for the President,” he admitted, his tone deep. “I’m still technically active duty, but I work off-the-record without Congress knowing.” He finally parted his lids, but she saw relief in his stunning eyes. “And I’m breaking the oath I made to my Commander in Chief never to reveal that information to anyone other than my wife.”

  He stood still, the water pouring over the both of them. She was part speechless and part broken-hearted. She’d pushed a man who was faithful and loyal to his country and team to share a secret that wasn’t hers to hear.

  She brought her hands to his cheeks, holding his face in her palms. Eyes set to his. Love in her heart. “Do you regret telling me?”

  “Do you regret knowing?” he was quick to ask, a touch of nerves striking his voice.

  She shook her head, emotion building even more intensely inside of her.

  “I don’t want any secrets between us, either. So no, I don’t regret telling you.”

  She brought her hands to his bicep and held on to him. “Thank you.” She wet her lips, taking in some of the shower water into her mouth in the process. “Will you make love to me now?”

  Lifting her in one fast movement like he was carrying her over the threshold, he walked into the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind them, and gently set her on the middle of the bed. She stared up at the man she never knew she wanted or needed but could now never imagine living without, and a smile spread across her lips. Chris carefully lowered himself over her, his biceps flexing as he braced himself above her. He dipped in, eyes on hers, a tender moment crossing between them, and then he kissed her.