Hot Shot (A Hostile Operations Team Novel)(#5)

by Lynn Raye Harris

  But of course she’d been wrong about the belonging. As usual.

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “He looks a little like me.”

  “A lot like you,” she said past the knot in her throat.

  “Yeah.” He punched the button to make the picture go away and handed the phone back to her. “Goddammit, Gina,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  She dropped her gaze to her lap. She knew what the answer should be. But she couldn’t say it. She could only tell the truth. “I don’t know.”

  She leaned her head back on the seat and let a tear escape. Her makeup would run and she’d look like a raccoon, but she no longer cared about her image.

  “I should have told you. I know I should have. But I was scared. You were so angry and heartbroken three years ago. You told me what we’d done didn’t mean anything. I understood that. And I didn’t need anything from you. I didn’t want you to think I expected anything.”

  “I wasn’t in a good place then. But that still didn’t give you the right to keep him from me.”

  “No, I know.” She spread her hands. “I can’t say anything other than I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. All I want is to get Eli back again. After that, we’ll work it out. I want him to know you, if that’s what you want too.”

  It terrified her to think of making Jack a part of their lives, but what choice did she have? Without him, there would be no Eli. Without him, she might never see Eli again.

  Oh God, she couldn’t think such a thing. She just couldn’t. It would kill her if he didn’t come back safely.

  The dam inside her broke then and she folded over onto herself, crying because she was emotionally wrung out from the concert, from Jack’s presence in her life, and from her baby being gone.

  For the second time today, Jack pulled her into the hard warmth of his body and let her cry. She huddled into his side, her body shaking with fear and adrenaline and sorrow. Jack ran a hand up and down her bare arm. Sparks shot through her body, warming her. She wanted to lean into him for the whole night, lie against him and let him take on the world for her. What would it feel like to belong to someone strong, someone who could take control and make the world go away for a while?

  It was always her against everyone else. She was used to it, and yet she still wished for someone to take care of her every once in a while. She’d never been taken care of. From an early age, she’d been alone while her mother went out to bars and clubs. And then she’d been alone when her mother brought men home and spent time with them instead of her child.

  Only once could she recall being the center of her mother’s attention. She’d been staying at a friend’s house for days because her mother was partying and working, but she’d gotten sick at school and the nurse called her mother. Mom had come for her. She’d taken Gina home, tucked her up in bed, and spent two whole days feeding her soup, taking her temperature, and fussing the way a mother should.

  It hadn’t lasted. But Gina remembered that time so vividly. She’d been cared for and loved, and the memory of it had kept her warm inside when she felt down. When she’d started to make money, she’d asked Mom to come live with her. But her mother hadn’t wanted to leave Bill or Bob or Dan—or whoever it had been then. That winter, she’d slipped on a patch of ice, hit her head on the pavement, and died when the bleeding on her brain hadn’t stopped.

  Gina felt Jack lean forward and then a box of Kleenex appeared in front of her nose. She took several. “Thanks.”

  She dabbed at her eyes, the tissues coming away black, and then she dabbed her nose with fresh ones. She turned to Jack. “Can you fix this mess? In case there are reporters still at the hotel.”

  He grabbed some tissues and held her chin firmly while he tenderly wiped away the makeup beneath her eyes. She didn’t want to look at him, but there was nowhere else to look while he tended to her.

  He had a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw. His blue eyes were hot and piercing as he stared at her. Her heart bumped up as her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had beautiful lips, firm, and as she knew from experience, oh so kissable. He’d performed magic with that mouth. She’d worshipped that mouth.

  In a fricking cave on an island. It was like a myth that had happened to someone else instead of her.

  Except she had Eli, and now Jack was here, dabbing away makeup and holding her chin with his fingers.

  “Best I can do,” he growled, leaning back away from her.

  “Thanks.”

  “What the hell is that dress made out of anyway? Rubber?”

  Gina blinked. What? “It’s polyester and spandex. It looks like leather, but breathable.”

  “Looks like rubber to me. And not much of it.”

  She glanced down at the dress. She was so accustomed to thinking of her costumes as just that, costumes, that she hadn’t paid much attention to this one once she’d left the stage. Gina Domenico was a sexual bombshell who projected sensuality and utter confidence in herself. This outfit was designed with that in mind. Her breasts mounded high and threatened to spill over while the hem had ridden up to nearly crotch level. It explained a lot when she thought back to Pete Gibson’s blushes. And maybe it explained a lot now. Her gaze dropped to Jack’s groin.

  And he was hard, the long, thick outline of his cock lying against his thigh. It made her stomach clench and her pussy throb with answering heat.

  She shook herself mentally. Just because he got hard over a pair of boobs in his face didn’t mean anything. He’d told her nothing was happening between them ever again—and she’d told him he was an arrogant prick for thinking she cared if it did.

  “And here I didn’t think you were interested,” she purred, deciding to jab him while he was down.

  “I’m not. But I noticed. Hell, every man who likes tits and ass noticed.”

  Her temper burned. He would never know how much thought and planning went into every little thing she did. And she didn’t give a fuck what he thought about it. “Sex sells, baby. Or haven’t you heard?”

  “Then you’re doing a fine job of selling it.”

  “You’re an asshole, you know that? You don’t get to judge me or make assumptions about my business just because I’m wearing a dress that makes you hard. Jerk off tonight if you must, but blame yourself, not me.”

  He raked a hand through his hair and swore. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right that I know nothing about your business. I’m just fucking pissed off and not handling it very well. It’s going to take time.”

  The limo came to a stop and she looked out the window to see they’d arrived back at the hotel. The chauffeur got out of the car and came around to get her door. When it opened, she took his hand and let him help her out. There were no photographers, and for that she was grateful. She meant to walk away, but instead she turned and leaned down to fix Jack with a look.

  Because she was still angry, in spite of his apology. She’d believed in him on the island, trusted him, and thought he’d seen the real her beneath the polish and glitz. But he seemed to believe the image now, and that hurt.

  “Be sure to stroke it extra hard, you hear? And think of these while you do it, sugar.” She rounded her hands over the sides of her breasts. And then she straightened and hurried into the lobby where Sam McKnight waited with Georgie, Olivia, and Evie.

  “Where’s Hawk?” Sam asked.

  “Coming,” she replied without a trace of irony.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT TOOK JACK A couple of minutes to follow Gina. He had to wait for his hard-on to subside because, yeah, she’d made him hot. He’d been wiping the streaky makeup from beneath her eyes and trying like hell not to look at the way her breasts filled out the deep vee of her dress, but it was impossible not to. He’d never seen such perfect breasts as those creamy swells, and he’d seen plenty. He’d been remembering the way they’d felt in his hands and trying to regulate his respons
e.

  It hadn’t worked, and that had made him angry. So of course he’d been a dick to her. Asshole.

  He didn’t blame her for that last burst of spite. He’d deserved her anger over what he’d said. His mother had raised him better than to talk to a woman that way, but he hadn’t been able to stop once the words started.

  He reached her room. Ryan Gordon stood outside the door.

  “Hey,” Flash said as Jack walked up. “Go on in. They’re waiting.”

  Jack stepped inside the suite and closed the door behind him. Georgie, Olivia, and Evie were talking and laughing. Sam and Matt looked up when Jack entered. Gina wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  “Got anything?” Jack asked, though he knew if they had someone would have called him immediately.

  “No,” Matt said. “Billy’s got everything set up next door. We’re just waiting now. If they call, we’ll find them.”

  “Nothing to do but wait then,” Jack said, shoving his hands in his pockets and standing there feeling a little bit lost and a whole lot irritated—with Gina, with himself, with everything.

  “You all right, Hawk?”

  “It’s a lot to take in at once, but yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  Matt came over and clasped his shoulder. “We’ll find these bastards and get Eli back.”

  “I know.” And the fact his team would do this for him when they were between missions and could use the time to relax filled him with uncharacteristic emotion. He wasn’t very talkative at the best of times, but he wanted them to know how grateful he was.

  He just didn’t know how to say it. Matt squeezed his shoulder as if he knew and then turned away.

  The door to Gina’s bedroom opened and she came out. She didn’t look anything like the Gina who’d looked at him with such contempt a few minutes ago. This Gina was scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair was wet. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and her feet were bare. It took him back to the island and the way she’d looked there with her face fresh and her long hair hanging in wet ropes down her back. She’d been purely, simply beautiful, and he’d been enthralled even though he hadn’t wanted to be.

  “What’s the plan now?” she asked, and he recognized the hard-assed businesswoman taking control. It was how she dealt with the world. Her gaze flickered over him and her green eyes grew as hard as marbles. But then she was looking at Matt again and waiting for an answer.

  “Nothing we can do except wait for them to call, chère. We’ve got a command center set up next door, and we’ll be monitoring the equipment twenty-four seven. When they call, just keep them on the phone as long as possible. We’ll do the rest.”

  She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and he got the sense she was trying not to cry again. “All right,” she said a moment later. And then she looked at him again and his gut twisted. “What if they never call? What if this is some sick plot to hurt me and they never intend to give my baby back?”

  Jack had to clear his throat. “You’re rich and famous, Gina. They want money.”

  Everyone agreed. The women came over and gave Gina hugs. “It’s been a long day for you,” Evie said. “I think maybe we should leave you to rest.”

  Gina nibbled her lower lip and he knew she was working to control herself. “Thanks so much for coming with me tonight. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

  Olivia and Georgie made shushing noises at the same time. “Already forgotten,” Olivia said.

  “We’ve got your back, darlin’,” Georgie added, sounding an awful lot like Sam.

  Gina nodded. Evie looked at Matt. “I guess you know we’re staying with you guys tonight.”

  Matt didn’t even argue. “Yeah, figured that. It’s a suite and there are a couple of connecting rooms.” He took Evie’s hand and they went out the door with the others. Jack stayed where he was, hands still in his pockets. Someone had to stay with Gina and it was understood that someone would be him.

  The door closed and the room was suddenly silent. Gina sank into a chair and laid her head back against the seat. “Do I need to ask why you’re still here?”

  “I’m not leaving, Gina.”

  Her eyes flashed. “You aren’t sleeping with me either.”

  He snorted. “I think we both know that already.”

  She let her gaze slide over him. “So did you take care of the problem?”

  “There is no problem. I’m a man. I’m used to unrequited boners. Doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? You, used to unrequited boners? I’d have thought you had a string of willing women standing outside your door.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “Can we just cut the crap? It’s not safe for you to be alone, and I’m the most logical person to be here. He’s my kid too.”

  She deflated like a popped balloon. All the fight went right out of her, and he realized how exhausting it must be to keep up the pretense of toughness long beyond the point where you had to be ready to scream.

  “Before you say anything else, I don’t wear what I wear on stage in order to turn men on. I wear it because it’s what I think is best for my brand. And it’s none of your goddamned business.”

  “You told me you were tired of the dance numbers and the direction people were pushing you in. That was three years ago. If it hasn’t changed, then you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  She nibbled on a fingernail. “I can’t change it overnight. And I basically dropped out for two years, so if I have a prayer in hell of keeping my career, I have to keep some of the dance numbers and the high energy. Barry’s right that I can’t just change everything. What if they don’t like me anymore?”

  He could only stare at her in disbelief. She was fucking amazing. She had a real voice, not a manufactured one. She didn’t rely on audio processors to make herself sound good. He’d like to wrap his hands around Barry’s throat for holding her back.

  “I can’t believe your fans would abandon you, Gina. It’s more than dancing and a stage show that keeps them buying your records.”

  She closed her eyes. “I don’t tell you how to shoot a gun, or any of that other super-spy stuff you do, so don’t tell me how to do my business, all right?”

  She had a point, though he still thought she was wrong. “All right.”

  He’d thought she would rest, but she shot up off the chair and marched across the room. She wasn’t wearing her heels anymore, which made her much shorter than the five-nine she’d appeared to be earlier. He’d forgotten how much smaller than him she was.

  But, man, she had a body that wouldn’t quit. He dragged his eyes off her breasts and made himself watch her face.

  “Why don’t they call?” she burst out, throwing her hands out wide. “It’s been six hours since they took him. Six fucking hours!”

  Jack wished he had an answer for her but he didn’t know what the kidnappers’ endgame was. All they could do was wait to find out.

  And that didn’t sit any better with him than it did with her. He was accustomed to being patient, to spending hours or days crawling into position to take the shot. He was used to waiting for a target to appear in his crosshairs.

  But not this time. This time he wanted to charge in and take the bastards out with a barrel against their temples. He wanted to see their eyes when they realized they were done for.

  He was seething with hot energy and ready to act. Just as she was.

  Yet there was nothing they could do but wait.

  “They’ll call when they’re ready. This is part of the game.”

  She glared at him. “You said your team didn’t handle kidnappings. How do you know?”

  “I said we didn’t handle domestic kidnappings.” In fact, they dealt with hostage situations all the time. But not in the States where other agencies had jurisdiction—unless the kidnapping was due to terrorism, and then they could be called in.

  Her eyes were shiny but he knew she wouldn’t cry this time. She was too angry to cry. “How do y
ou deal with this? The waiting?”

  “Honestly, I’ve never had to deal with it like this. I don’t know the people we’re sent to rescue. They aren’t usually children either.”

  Though it had happened, certainly. Just a few months ago, they’d had a situation where an American family was taken hostage by guerillas while traveling in South America. They’d gone in hard and Jack had taken out six militants in the space of seconds. The rest of the team had mopped up the other bad guys, they’d rescued the family, then bugged out to the extraction point. In and out and done.

  “You think I should have called the FBI.”

  Yeah, he’d thought that when he first arrived. And he knew it changed after she dropped a bomb on him. But it wasn’t just that the kid was also his. It was her utter conviction that she needed him to help her. And then the guys had dropped everything to come analyze the situation, and his gut feeling that this was something other than a kidnapping only grew stronger.

  “I did think so. I don’t anymore.”

  “Do you think this has anything to do with the threats?”

  His gut had twisted reading the initial reports of the threats against her. Men—and maybe some women—who thought she was their soul mate and wanted to claim her. People who hated her and wanted her dead. People who thought she owed them something because they were positive she’d written songs about their lives.

  Most were traceable, and most were crackpots. But there were always a couple that couldn’t be identified, and those were worrisome in their own way. However, none of them indicated a mind capable of a plan this intricate, though they had yet to see the original letters. The security company had them and would be sending them over in the morning.

  “I don’t know for certain, but I don’t think so.” Her security contractor had been thorough in their investigation of the threats, but there was always a chance they’d missed something.