Someone grabbed her arm and pulled. She stumbled and almost lost her balance. The hand squeezed her wrist so hard she yelped, then banged her hand against a tree truck until she dropped her pistol. A strong arm hooked her by the waist. Haley arched her neck enough to see it was Ammar who held her. He pressed a gun to her temple.
Haley frantically tried to strategize how to free herself. Rem finished off the other man and pulled a pistol from somewhere on the motionless body. Standing, he turned to face her and Ammar, a pistol hanging from his right hand.
“Drop your weapon or I will shoot her,” Ammar called through the trees.
Rem didn’t move.
Haley bent her arm and rammed her elbow backward. Feeling the gun leave contact with her temple, she dropped her weight.
Hearing Rem fire his pistol, she didn’t have to look to know Ammar was dead before his body thumped to the ground behind her.
After Rem found them a hotel room, he left to case the perimeter, to look for anything suspicious and make sure they hadn’t been followed. Alone for a few minutes, Haley called Cullen on the satellite phone. It was no small comfort to know backup was on the way. Odie had promised to take care of everything.
Moments after she disconnected the call, Rem entered the sparse but clean room. He put his gun down and removed his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. His fleeting grimace and traces of blood on his temple cooled her notice of bare skin and muscle. He went into the bathroom and, looking in the mirror, began parting his hair.
Haley found a small first-aid kit in Rem’s duffel and followed him into the bathroom. He had the faucet running and was washing his head, turning the cloth and water red.
“Do you need stitches?” she asked.
“No.”
She doubted he’d get them even if he did. Taking out a razor and a roll of thin white tape, she reached up and took the cloth from him. Putting her hand on his thick, hard shoulder, she urged him to face her. He did.
Those ice-blue eyes watched her, their intensity riveting. She met them a moment, feeling a bit of reckless fascination when heat flickered to warm life there as she continued to stare.
“Sit on the toilet.” The command came with a sultry tone.
He backed up and sat next to the sink. She moved between his parted knees and brushed some hair aside to see his wound.
“Not too bad,” she said. “You have a good lump, but the cut isn’t very long. I think a couple strips of tape should do.” She looked down at him. “I’ll need to shave a little hair.”
She found a miniature scissors in the first-aid kit and carefully cut the hair around the wound. He had thick enough hair that no one would know he had a cut there.
Using the razor, she shaved around the cut. It was a patchy job, but at least the tape would stick. She dabbed the wound with some dry gauze and applied ointment before making a cross with the tape.
“There.” She smoothed his hair over her work.
Looking down, she watched his eyes lift. She angled her head in mock reproach, a silent admonishment for where he’d been ogling.
A grin hitched higher to the left side of his mouth, adding humor to the heat in his impossibly light eyes. It caused a flutter down low that spread to her limbs. And a warning went off in her head. Any more of this and she’d fall too hard for him. She stepped back.
“I need a shower,” she said. Anything to get away from him right now.
His eyes smoldered with her unintended invitation. He came to his feet and moved toward her. She put her hand on his chest.
“Alone.” She smiled to cover her nervousness.
He chuckled and went around her. “Don’t use all the hot water.” He closed the door behind him.
While she undressed, she imagined him on the other side of the door. There was something erotic about being naked with only a door separating her from a man who’d already sent her body to the stars. What would happen if he made love to her again? Without Iraq in the way? It worried her.
She turned on the shower, then climbed in when it was hot. Why him? Why did it have to be him that did that for her? She’d wondered it before, many times, and still she had no answer. It baffled her. She wished she could understand what it was about him that worked, and why someone like Travis didn’t.
She showered quickly, not because she was afraid the hot water would run out. She didn’t want her meandering thoughts that bordered on fantasy to chisel down her defenses. A man like Rem might work for her on a baser level, but she needed someone less larger-than-life for the long term. Rem might force the demons from her soul, but could he have and hold what was left when they were gone?
After drying off, she dressed in a long, sleeveless T-shirt and left the bathroom. Rem stood from a chair. He’d turned on the TV.
The room had two beds, so she picked one and climbed in. The sound of the shower running had her thinking of Rem in there. Soft, wet flesh over hard muscle. Kissing his mouth under the spray of water.
The shower shut off.
Haley’s heart jumped. He would come out now. She could take off her T-shirt nightie and be naked when he saw her….
Oh. That idea sent heat swirling.
To have him see her like that…
The bathroom door opened. Rem came out, holding a towel around his sexy, trim hips. Haley swallowed. He stopped when he saw her. She met his gaze for a few sizzling moments, feeling sparks scatter and burst all the way to her core.
Without moving his eyes from her, he went to his duffel and bent to retrieve a pair of jeans. Straightening, he stood still, jeans in one hand, the other holding the towel. She wondered if he was contemplating acting on the desire in her eyes.
But at last he turned and disappeared inside the bathroom.
Haley breathed a few deliberate breaths. What was the matter with her? Did she really want to risk exploring where this led? Did she want to put her heart out that far for him?
She looked at the closed bathroom door. It would be a mistake.
Or would it?
Did she know him better than she gave herself credit for? Could she make him see what she saw in him? What if it was too late for that? What if he refused to accept her on his level? Did it matter? Maybe she didn’t need Rem after they got home. Maybe all she needed was this sexual encounter. Instead of trying to predict the future, she should stay right here in the now. And the now consumed her with want. She wanted him. Nothing in her gut told her it was wrong.
Tossing the covers off her feet, she wiggled the hem of the T-shirt out from under her butt and pulled it over her head. She heard the bathroom door open. Still holding the T-shirt in her hands, she hesitated as her gaze locked with Rem’s. He froze in the doorway of the bathroom. Wearing only jeans, he was sexier than any other man she’d ever seen.
She held the T-shirt in one hand and extended her arm to let it drop to the floor beside the bed.
Rem’s jaw flexed and his eyes hardened.
Bolstering her nerve, she leaned back on her hands, straightening her back to push her breasts up along the arch of her body. Nothing covered her. Her legs were long and slender on the sheets. She knew she was fit. She didn’t think she had a model’s beauty, nor did she want it. Better to be her own, natural self.
Amazing, how she wanted to show Rem that now. And so unabashedly. Without fear. It was an exhilarating feeling. She let it fuel her passion.
His gaze roamed up her legs, over her pelvis, her breasts, and finally to her face. She understood his silent message. With a slight lift to one corner of his mouth, his head dipped forward just a fraction, changing his eyes, making them gleam with certainty. The certainty of what he intended to do.
Walking to the foot of the bed, he looked at her again. Haley felt his gaze as if it physically caressed her. She watched his ice-blue eyes go from her eyes, to her mouth, down the column of her neck, to her breasts. Further, over her ribs to her slender waist.
When those eyes she was beginning to know so wel
l reached the part of her that yearned for him, she lay back on the bed, folding her arms above her head, sliding her feet up the mattress to bend her knees and part them.
Hunger flared in his eyes and in the set of his mouth. His biceps bulged as he bent his arms to unfasten his jeans. He slid them down his legs and kicked them aside.
Rather than crawl on top of her, he stood before her, allowing her the same liberty she’d offered him. She smiled with the surge of answering pleasure the gesture gave her. She looked her fill. From shoulders to chest, over to biceps and down to a fit, rippling stomach, she took it all in.
Lifting her gaze, she met Rem’s and waited for him to make his move. He didn’t take long. He put one knee on the mattress and then the other, straddling her. The intensity of his nearness, his presence, his big form tall and looming above her rocked her.
He didn’t move, just continued to look down at her, but only her face now. All that delicious, hot, lusciously incandescent intensity surrounded her, a man at odds with the heroism that burned alive and well in his soul. The knowledge of its existence flowered her entire body with glorious sensation. That was what she loved about him. The core of him that even he didn’t recognize.
Loved.
Not that. She struggled with the thought.
Rem seemed to sense the change in her and lowered to press his warm, soft mouth against hers. It sent fire curling through her. He moved his knees between her legs, fanning the flames hotter. Her hesitation burned to ashes. This man was hers. Maybe not forever, but he was hers for now. This night. These precious moments of intimacy.
And that was all she needed.
He leaned over her, bracing his weight on one hand while the other spread a path of fire over her hip and indent of her waist. His entire hand, palm and fingers, curved from her ribs to her back as he ran it up her body. His palm caught on the delicate skin of her breast and paused. He cupped her, ran his thumb over her nipple, before sliding back down her body.
Haley tipped her head back against the mattress with the riptide of sensation that coursed through her.
He spread her legs wider with his knees. Her heart drummed thicker and heavier. He slid his hand down her thigh. Back up again. Took gentle hold of one butt cheek. Kissed her. He moved his mouth over hers as though reveling in her sweet acquiescence. Tingles assuaged her skin, shooting from where he kissed her, where his hand kneaded her butt, swirling in her core, numbing the very tips of her limbs. She felt him everywhere.
When his tongue swept deep into her mouth, artfully dancing, circling slowly with hers, she couldn’t stop a soft moan.
A harsher sound answered her and he abandoned her mouth to trail breathy kisses from her jaw down the column of her neck. Too soon, he withdrew. Rolling onto his back, he pushed himself up so that he leaned against the ornate, dark wood headboard. He looked messy and masculine against the backdrop.
When he extended his right hand, across his body and toward her, she understood what he wanted. Her. On top of him. While he sat upright, leaning against the headboard.
Shards of heat gave her an intimate throb between her legs. How did he know?
She didn’t need an answer. He knew her history. With her on top, she’d be in control and it would have no resemblance to Iraq. She wanted to tell him it didn’t matter anymore. That he’d already chased the demons away. This was for her now, her first intimate experience without fear. He’d given that to her.
Moisture stung her eyes. She bit her lower lip to keep the sob climbing up her throat from ruining this moment. But he saw her reaction anyway, and his eyes softened, another dichotomy to a man whose past defined him too harshly.
Haley swallowed the surging emotion in her and crawled over him, straddling his hips. He put his big hands on her hips, and the contact fueled the escalating warmth flowing through every nerve ending in her body.
She touched his chest, looking at her hands because looking at his face was too overwhelming. She caressed his pectorals, marveling at the softness over hard muscle underneath. Feeling him watch her, very aware of his unmoving hands on her hips, she couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she gave all her attention to touching him. She ran her hands down his body, spending time on his stomach. Fascination made her breathe faster. He had a fine covering of hair that tapered to a barely noticeable line leading to his groin.
The sight of her sitting on him deepened the ache between her legs. She felt his erection between her spread thighs.
Running her hands back up his body, she found leverage on his shoulders and moved her hips to drag herself up his length.
“Uh,” she heard him grunt.
She closed her eyes and dragged herself down, up again, down, pressing harder.
He leaned his head back against the headboard and shut his eyes.
His struggle for control made her smile. She planted her mouth on his.
He immediately took over the kiss, cupping the back of her head and lifting his head off the headboard to drive his tongue deep into her mouth.
As she continued to move, his hands tightened on her waist, as though he meant to stop her, but then he let her go. His head thumped against the headboard, and he breathed deep and heavy as his hungry eyes watched her.
“Woman, you’re going to kill me,” he rasped.
“Shhh,” she whispered against his mouth.
He chuckled deeply.
She kissed the column of his neck. The ridge of his jaw. Along his cheek, until she slowed and hovered over his mouth.
Looking into his eyes, she waited, not touching him. He looked back at her, those powerful, ice-blue eyes full of manly desire. It almost pushed her over her threshold of restraint.
She wanted to crush her mouth to his but withheld, wanting him to take the initiative, to feel the strength of desire driving him, to know it was her he wanted so fiercely.
Opening his mouth, he closed his lips over hers, a sensual mating, angling his head and deepening the play of movement. Endless seconds passed before she felt his tongue seek permission for more. She didn’t give it to him. Lifting her mouth, she hovered again.
But she didn’t have the upper hand for long. With his hand once again on the back of her head, he pulled her against his mouth and had his way with her, taking her with tender, intimate force. Initiative was not something he lacked. She should have known he wouldn’t disappoint.
Reestablishing her seat on his erection, she put her hands on his chest. He leaned against the headboard again, dropping his hands to the mattress.
The knowledge that he would wait for her, that he was being so very patient with her, drenched her with love that clamored for release. Rising up onto her knees, she was about to lower her hand to guide him when he did it for her. Sliding one hand up her bare thigh, he held his erection with the other and put the tip of it against her wetness.
Haley let her weight work for her, moving when she needed to until the tip of him parted her. She used her weight to take him deeper, going slowly, allowing her flesh time to stretch for him. When she could take no more of him, she leaned forward, folding her arms around his neck, kissing him. Her nipples brushed his chest before she pressed them flush against him.
His hands moved up her back, then back down, his palms curving over each butt cheek, kneading, spreading, while grinding her where she needed it most. The pressure of his hardness, the friction of it, stimulated her beyond comprehension. She lifted a little, then sank back down. Her movement aided his practiced hands. Feeling an incredible orgasm build, she crushed her mouth onto his and he kissed her masterfully while she came, the play of his tongue adding to the electrifying stroke of their flesh.
“Rem,” she whispered, as her orgasm peaked. She loved him. Loved him. Loved him.
His guttural moan followed.
She collapsed against him, only then hearing the way their breathing filled the room.
“Oh, God.” The chant of words still echoed in her head. “I think I really am in love w
ith you.”
His breathing stopped abruptly.
She tensed. Her thighs, her arms, her back. Her entire body went still.
It was just the sex, right? She couldn’t remember it ever being so spectacular before Iraq. Maybe that was why. Her newfound freedom was explosive. Poignant. It couldn’t be love.
A feeling in her gut contradicted her desperately careening thoughts.
His hands ran up her arms to her biceps, where he gently held her and moved her back. She almost couldn’t look at his face. But the growing realization that what she felt was real froze her.
He searched her eyes with his.
How could she love him?
She felt her brow tighten along with her confusion. Him? How could she love him?
“Do you?” he asked.
And she saw that he genuinely wanted to know.
“I…”
“Haley—”
“Rem, I…I—I…” She couldn’t finish. What could she say except…yes…?
Tears blurred her vision. What did it mean for her? Would he love her back? Did she want him to? Would he be able to give her any kind of future? She didn’t think so. Maybe a few months of this…hot, sweaty sex that made her shake and quiver and lose awareness of anything else. But…she loved him.
“Why did it have to be you?” She shook her head. “Why you?” She didn’t understand. She didn’t think she ever would.
His eyes changed, going from searching and hopeful…yes, hopeful…to something that pinched her heart. Did he want her to love him?
She didn’t have time to assimilate something to say. He lifted her off him, depositing her onto the bed beside him. Without pausing, he propelled himself off the bed and started yanking on his jeans.
“Rem, I—”
“Save it, Haley,” he hissed. “We both know what this is really all about.”
“What?”
“You don’t belong here. You never did.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s—”
“Don’t say it, Haley.”
Unmasking the Mercenary Page 16
