Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

He could practically hear her teeth grinding together. Damn she was cute when she was pissed.

  “Are you trying to insult me or does rudeness just come naturally to you?”

  If he was a gentlemen he would stop now, but no one had ever called him that. Embracing the perverse need to push her a little further and see what else she’d do, Ethan grinned. “I guess it’s natural.” He let his gaze travel from the top of her head to her toes. “Plus, you make it easy.”

  Giving in to the temptation to touch her, he fingered the one dried chunk of hair that had escaped her bun. She slapped his hand away, her eyes flashing. “Don’t touch me.”

  Oh I’m gonna touch you alright.

  Damn, he had to get himself under control. He was here to train her, not have wet dreams about her. He had to get some distance, no matter how badly he didn’t want to. “That’s going to be hard since I’ll be training you.”

  Kate’s lush lips parted.

  Nope, not what he should have said.

  Did she like to bite during sex? Fuck, where had that thought come from? Kate Richards was everything he didn’t want or need. Uptight. Closed off. Pushy.

  No, he liked his women soft and willing and quiet…

  She licked her plump lips and he flushed hot, his whole body tense with a stomach tight desire to taste her.

  Maybe – No, not going there.

  “If you think for one second I’m going to put up with a – a male chauvinist trying to pull the man card all week you’re out of your mind, buddy.” Kate took a threatening step forward and jammed her finger into his chest. “I don’t take orders from someone like you. Ever.”

  She tilted up her chin and looked down her nose at him. Ethan’s temper flared like a struck match.

  He hadn’t pictured her as a snob, a goody-two-shoes maybe, but not someone who looked down on people. He must have been wrong. He hadn’t put up with anyone thinking they were better than him since he left his last foster home, he wasn’t about to start now. Ethan glared down at her finger until she pulled it away.

  “I’m your trainer. For the next two weeks, you will do what I say, when I say it. Otherwise, I’ll tell Grey you’re not up for the job and you can say bye-bye to your little paycheck.”

  “I’ll do what you say when Hell freezes over,” Kate spit the words out through gritted teeth.

  He could just imagine the set of scissors she carried around to cut a man’s balls straight off his body. Ethan pasted on a cold smile and shoved the lust back under the rock it slithered out of. “Then I guess you won’t be learning what you need for the mission. We should call Grey now, let him know he needs to find someone else.”

  “What’s your problem? From the moment we met, you’ve been baiting me.” Most girls he knew would have tossed in a whine, but Kate’s tone turned serious. Analytical. Shit.

  “Princess, I don’t have a problem. I’m here to do a job and I don’t do missions half-assed. So if you’re gonna complain about my tone of voice this isn’t going to work. I’ll save us both the waste of time right now.” And with some distance, he could stop thinking about pulling down that bun and running his fingers through her silky black hair.

  Why had Grey singled him out for training her? Any one of the other men could get the job done and do it without a hard on.

  She held his gaze without blinking and he got the distinct impression she was studying him like some kind of code that needed cracked. She blanked her expression, but not the fire burning in her gaze. “You’re right. We got off to the wrong start. I want this job and I want to be the best I can. If you’re the ticket – I can deal.”

  “Deal? Women don’t deal with me.” They fall at his feet and beg for dates and long nights of sex. And he couldn’t wait to get away from them. But Kate called to him, made him want to spend time with her. Not run for his bike and the next hop overseas.

  She smirked, as if realizing she’d pricked a nerve. “Fine. I can work with you. I’ll be civil if you can do the same. It’s only two weeks.”

  Her calm response set his teeth on edge. She thought she had the upper hand here, still. It was time to bring her back down to his level. “Fine, but leave the man act at the door.”

  “Man act?”

  “Yeah, the pants suit, the cocky walk. You’re supposed to be here as Caroline’s stylist.” That bright red stain rushed back to her cheeks and Ethan found himself smiling in response.

  Better, much better.

  Kate sputtered but didn’t get a word out before the door opened behind him and Grey strode out onto the front porch.

  "Ethan, sorry I was in the shower when you got here, so glad you could make it,” Grey said and then turned to Kate. “Just get here? Need me to carry something inside for you?”

  “Did you just indicate that I’m trying to be a man?

  Grey paused and Ethan couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping his lips. He’d struck a nerve, just as he’d meant to. “I don’t discriminate. Your orientation is none of my concern.”

  “I am not a lesbian!”

  Grey cleared his throat and cast a questioning glance Ethan’s way. “Kate, no one here implied that.”

  The angry flush spread over her entire face, turning her smooth perfect skin a deep shade of red and damn if Ethan wasn’t enjoying himself more than he had since he could remember. This might be a lot more fun than he thought.

  “Yeah, I didn’t say that at all,” Ethan chimed in.

  “Why don’t we go inside and talk about what you two need to do to get ready?” Grey edged toward the door.

  “You didn’t have to say it exactly. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends, none of whom had any issue with the way I dressed or talked or walked.”

  Damn she was cute all riled up. “Did you always meet in the dark, then?”

  Kate opened her lips and then slammed them shut. Grey shot him another questioning look, but Ethan had no answer, he couldn’t really figure out why he’d poked at her so much himself. Maybe it was her strung tight as a whip nature. Or the cocky tilt to her chin. Or maybe he wanted her and didn’t know how to deal with the bone jarring emotional punch she dealt.

  The front door squeaked open and Aaron and Noni stepped out. The old lady's gaze shifted from Ethan to Kate, a knowing gleam in her eyes, and Ethan felt the noose tighten around his neck.

  He needed to keep his distance. Kate was planting some crazy ideas in his head like dating and feeling her hair, a lot like the kind of woman Noni described.

  Two weeks. He had to keep his shit locked down for two weeks when he could get back to what he was meant for: The Special Forces. Not a suit-wearing agent with exotic green eyes.

  Damn, he was so screwed.

  “I've got cookies in the oven right now.” Noni pulled the door open.

  “Great,” Ethan said.

  Kate took a step back. “I need to grab my bag.”

  “I can get it,” Grey offered.

  “No!” Kate cleared her throat. “Um, I’ll get it, you guys go on inside.”

  Grey waited until Kate was out of earshot. “Am I going to have a problem here?”

  Ethan straightened and kept his face blank of the heat rushing through his body. “No, sir.”

  “Okay,” Grey went inside, leaving Ethan alone on the porch to watch Kate bent over inside her passenger door.

  Ah hell, he was a glutton for punishment.

  Ethan headed out across the gravel parking lot to her, rounded the open door and stopped in his tracks. Kate was bent over at the waist, her pants pulled snug across a perfectly shaped ass. His good intentions flew out the window. He scrubbed a hand over his beard and tried to clear his throat. “Need some help?”

  She jumped and bumped her head on the door. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” He leaned over her, trying to see what had been taking her so long, and get a little bit closer. The smell of coffee hit him hard. As did the spilled bag and stained shirt. “What happened in here?”

  She tossed him a f
rown over her shoulder and tried to shove her wet clothes into her bag. “Deer.”

  “Ah, makes sense. They’re pretty thick out here, have to keep an eye out for them.” He’d passed a few on his bike on the side of the road on his way in to Noni’s a little while ago and not given it another thought. “You okay?”

  She held up a pair of wet trousers that looked just like the ones she was wearing now. Her delicate features tilted with dismay. “I am but my clothes are not.”

  “I bet Noni’s got a washing machine.” And he really hoped she’d brought something besides pants suits. He wanted to see more of her.

  She shoved the remaining clothes into her bag and straightened, forcing him to back up a step or trap her between him and the car. She straightened and gave him a wary look. “What?”

  What indeed? He had no idea. He was acting like a damn fool though. “Nothing, just making sure you didn’t need me to carry your bag.”

  “I can carry my own bag, thanks.” Kate hefted it over her shoulder and brushed past him, leaving Ethan to either stare or follow. She went through the front door, letting it slam shut behind her.

  Ethan gave his bike a longing glance. What he wouldn’t give for the open road right now. No complications or confusion, just him and his bike. Simple. Easy. Straightforward.

  Whether he liked it or not, Kate Richards was now his responsibility.

  Ethan followed her into the kitchen. Aaron and Kate were already seated at the small table; Grey took one of the two remaining chairs. Noni opened the oven door and the scent of sugar cookies filled the air.

  “Noni, that smells like heaven on earth,” Aaron said.

  “Don't you dare touch these cookies. They still need to cool.” Noni sat the tray on top of the stove, put in another batch and set the timer. “I'll leave you to your business.”

  Noni walked right past Ethan and gave him a big wink. Great. The only chair at the table was right next to Kate. If he didn't sit he'd probably offend her, but if he did, he'd have to feel her next to him. Ethan chose to lean against the wall.

  Kate stiffened in her seat, but he couldn't help that. He knew if he got close to her again this soon he wouldn't hear a word Grey said and he needed to keep his head on straight.

  Deliberately turning her back on him, Kate said, “Noni, could I use your washing machine? I had a little coffee incident on the way here.”

  “Just bring me your dirty clothes and I’ll wash them for you,” Noni said.

  “I couldn’t ask you to-“

  “Nonsense, girl. You’re a guest in my house.”

  Kate’s shoulders dropped. “Thank you.”

  “All right, I've got the rest of the team arriving in a few days, we can finalize the logistics then. I asked you to come in early because you each have an important role to play,” Grey began.

  “Before we go any further, Aaron, where is Ms. Latimer?”

  “I spoke with her a little while ago. She got lost, but she's on her way. She should be here any minute,” Aaron flushed and Ethan felt a small surge of satisfaction. He wouldn't be the only man walking around in need all week.

  At least Ethan could keep himself busy with work. Aaron would be stuck babysitting the stylist, although he doubted Aaron viewed it as stuck. He was as hot for Celine as she was for him.

  Grey continued, “Aaron you already know your job will be to train Ms. Latimer on basic self-defense strategies, even though if we do our jobs right she won't need to use those lessons.”

  Aaron gave a tight nod, his ever-present grin absent for once.

  Kate interrupted. “Excuse me, sir, but why are you bringing in a civilian?”

  It was a good question. Untrained people were more often a liability to a mission than an aid. They were panicky, unreliable at best.

  “Caroline demanded Ms. Latimer be her clothing coordinator. Apparently, she’s very in style. Plus, Aaron vouched for her and we vetted her.”

  “So we are putting our HVT at risk because she's demanding a certain person?” Ethan said. Caroline was their high value target, and the more Grey spoke, the more she sounded like a spoiled princess who didn't care about her own safety.

  “We are ultimately under Senator Cotter's command and this was something he wasn't willing to negotiate, no matter how much I protested. Since Aaron already has an established relationship with Ms. Latimer, I picked him to train her.”

  “We’re just friends,” Aaron stiffened.

  “Okay, friends. Anyway she's completely ignorant of combat or defense and will be more comfortable and probably listen better to someone she knows. Is everyone here okay with that?” Grey kept his tone straight, even though Ethan detected an undercurrent of irritation.

  “Aye, aye, Capitan.” Aaron leaned back and gave a fake salute.

  “Drop the smartass,” Grey said and then he turned his attention to Kate. “I need another female to act as a stylist to Caroline, but you will also be acting as her personal bodyguard. You will have a perfect excuse to stay by her side the entire time.”

  Kate nodded. “I can do that, but I didn't bring any attire appropriate for a wedding event.”

  “I expected as much. Ms. Latimer has been provided your sizes and is bringing your attire.”

  “We don't have much time; I suggest you start training immediately.” Grey pushed back from the table and stood. “Aaron, let me know when Celine arrives. I'll want to talk to her, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” Aaron said.

  “I'll let you get to it then.” Grey headed out of the kitchen, pausing directly in front of Ethan. “Good luck.”

  Ethan didn't need luck. He'd been in worse situations. Much worse. He was a highly trained SF operative; he could control his hormones for a couple of weeks. Couldn’t he?

  Chapter 8

  “Here’s your room. We’ll get the mat set up in the back yard while you shower.” Ethan led her to a rustic wood door halfway down the hall.

  Kate gazed up at him closely in the darkened hall, trying to read through his carefully spoken words, but all she got was a guarded expression. “Um, thanks. I should only be about ten minutes.”

  “I’m bunking in there.” He pointed to the open door right beside hers.

  A single black bag sat unpacked in the corner. Any other evidence of Ethan didn’t exist. “Where is the rest of your stuff?”

  “I try to keep it lite,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You mean that’s all you brought?”

  “When you live on the road, you figure out what you really need and don’t need.”

  “Don’t you ever go home?” Kate asked.

  He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

  “A home?”

  “Nope.”

  She blinked up at his blank expression. “Where do you live then?”

  “Where ever I end up.”

  “What about your family? Where did you grow up?”

  “Don’t have one of those either.” Ethan crossed his arms and stared down at her blankly.

  A small knife of guilt stabbed her in the chest and she reached out and touched his arm reflexively. “Ethan, I’m sorry.”

  What must it have been like growing up as an orphan? She tried to picture him as a child, all alone and in need, but picturing him as anything but a powerful fully-grown man was next to impossible.

  “You’re not here to analyze me, princess.” Ethan yanked his arm from hers. “You’re here to train.” His brows dropped together and formed a crease down the center. “Get rid of the coffee perfume and meet me at the mat in ten.”

  Ethan pulled his arm free from her touch and strode down the hall before she could say another word, leaving her to stare in shock at his broad back in shock.

  The fact that she’d hit a nerve was obvious, as was his reflexive pig headedness. Sheesh, she was so sick of men in general and now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere for two weeks of hands on training with one of the most frustrating males she’d encountered. He wasn't made for
her- not without a heavy overhaul anyway.

  Kate grabbed the knob to her bedroom and slammed inside, coming to an abrupt halt at the chaos in front of her. A mismatched patchwork quilt with no discernable patter covered a full sized bed whose head board wasn’t even attached to the frame, and instead leaned against the wall. An assortment of different sized and types of stuffed animals filled out from a collection of pillows halfway down the bed.

  Several tiny glass figurines littered the dresser, not one of them matching. An oval blue floral rug lay at the foot of the bed and a square red rug lay at its side.

  It was bedlam.

  Kate gripped her bag tighter, almost shaking with the need to rearrange everything into some semblance of pattern and order. Taking a deep breath, she marched to her bathroom door, preparing for more chaos. Instead, she found a simple claw foot tub with a shower and a pedestal white sink.

  Carefully she placed her bag on the white tiled floor and kept her back turned to the bedroom. She went to her knees and began digging through her belongings, and luckily discovered a pair of dry training tights and a top at the bottom. Everything else would have to be washed.

  Kate tugged her stained shirt and jacket off, toed off her pants and placed them in with the rest of her dirty clothes. She grabbed a washcloth from the shelf, extracted her bag of travel shampoo and body wash and began lining them up in order, labels out, in the small window above the tub.

  Why the hell did she care about his past anyway? She didn’t. She didn’t care one bit, just like the she didn’t care that he would be sleeping less than ten feet away from her. Or that training with him would mean he’d have to touch her. A lot.

  Kate turned the water on to hot and stepped under the steaming spray, goosebumps prickling across her sensitized skin on first contact. She tilted her head back and groaned out loud, frustrated at her body’s reaction to him.

  Grabbing her shampoo, she washed her hair, scrubbing harder than normal and then let the conditioner soak in for the precise amount of time it took for her to wash her body. She was back out of the shower exactly seven and half minutes after she started.

  The routine did little to sooth her frayed nerves.