Ward shot her a confused frown. “Excuse me?”
“For the last twenty-four hours, I’ve assumed he’s off having wild sex somewhere, drinking until he can’t move.” That fit with what she knew about him after their short time paired up together.
She still believed that was the issue. Gareth’s file contained more than one warning about his behavior. He’d go on assignment and then go radio silent. She got the distinct impression Fiji was his last shot at holding on to his job. If so, she hoped he had other skills.
“He sounds competent,” Ward said without breaking stride.
“That’s part of my point. I couldn’t get away with that.” And that distinction poked at her. Made her dislike Gareth when she barely knew the man.
He’d checked in, then said he was going to take a few hours off. Now, nothing. She’d been about to handle the breach of protocol by hunting his sorry ass down when she found Ward rummaging through her bag. Which reminded her that she had a lot to report at her next check with headquarters.
“Actually, the point is you wouldn’t try.” Ward steered them farther into the trees and off the path around the open area. “Not your style.”
He was right, but still. Men she’d worked with for ten years couldn’t reach that conclusion without a diagram and more than a few threats from her. Yet Ward bounced right there.
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or terrified. She had almost no experience with either emotion. “You’ve only known me for a few days.”
He shrugged. “I can read people.”
Not to point out the obvious . . . “You didn’t know I was MI6 until I drugged you and took your wallet.”
“The whole wanting-to-strip-you-naked thing got in my way.” He stopped and turned to face her. “Around you my brain cells misfire.”
Her stomach did this weird bouncing thing. She half hoped she’d come down with malaria, because if this was some sort of reaction to Ward and his words, she was in deep trouble.
But she had to admit she didn’t hate the comments or the strange show of support. “That’s kind of sweet.”
“Really? Because wanting you this much is driving me fucking nuts.” And from the glaring and narrowed eyes, he looked pretty pissed off about it.
“Poor baby.”
“My point is I’ve seen you in action. Most men couldn’t take me down. You did it.”
She held up two fingers because it was either that or touch him. And she could not touch him again. Not now. “Twice.”
“Right. “ He folded his fingers over hers. “Twice.”
Something sizzled inside her as she waited for him to drop her hand, to start walking again or reading off tactics for the plan. But he just stood there with his fingers threaded through hers and stared right into her eyes until the intensity had her glancing away.
“You don’t panic. You use your smarts. You can hit a target without blinking.” His other hand brushed against her cheek. “Trust me when I say I don’t view you as window dressing or an extra on this job. I’m betting at some point during the next few hours you’ll end up saving my life.”
“Is that a line?” Because if it was, she could ignore it. Pretending he didn’t exist and didn’t affect her were two things she hadn’t been able to accomplish.
“No.”
So much for pretending. She went into his arms then. Up on her toes until her mouth hovered over his. “Good.”
Then she kissed him with all the pent-up frustration that had been building. All the need and the whip of desire. Kissed him until the blood left her head and the dizziness assailed her.
Kissed him deep and long . . . right up until she heard the approaching footsteps.
Chapter Eight
WARD HEARD A trace, the barest whisper from incoming footsteps. Heard and ignored because this was not the kind of kiss you cut short. You let it linger until it took hold and wiped out everything else. And since he knew that walk and recognized the low whistle as his arranged signal, he knew they weren’t in danger.
Ford let out a long exhale as he stepped up beside them. “Good thing I’m not a rabid killer hiding Stinger missiles or anything.”
As he lifted his head, the depth of the miscalculation hit Ward. He hadn’t thought through the sarcasm or counted on the amount of shit he was going to hear about this. Ford was not the type to let this go. To let anything go.
Ward went for the verbal block. “I knew you were there.”
“So did I,” Tasha said as she pushed at Ward’s arms and stepped out of his hold.
Ford’s gaze flicked between Tasha and Ward. “And are we pretending I didn’t just see that kiss?”
Ward decided not to sugarcoat this. “Yes.”
“Only if you want to live,” she said at the same time.
“Okay.” Ford clapped and kept rubbing his hands together. “Let’s also all pretend we’re professionals for a second.”
An eerie calm fell over Tasha. “Meaning?”
Ward felt the conversation careen right out of control. Ford was a trained killer, but Ward didn’t underestimate Tasha. Not anymore. “A little warning here. That word is a trigger for her.”
“Want me to shoot you?” Her eyebrow lifted as if daring Ford to say yes. “You know, just to prove how good a shot I am?”
Ford being Ford, he didn’t show any outward reaction. “Are all Brits this touchy?”
Before she reached for her weapon and treated them to a live demonstration—and Ward sensed that minute was coming—he plunged ahead. Now would be a good time anyway, since Tasha had made her point and Ford’s mind needed to be on something other than that kiss he saw.
“Where is he?” Ward didn’t have to say whom. Ford and Tasha knew.
“Here.” Ford used his plain black watch to pull up a satellite map of Tigana’s outpost, which he’d now confirmed as the target. “I’ve been doing the head count. We’re outnumbered, and they’re talking to each other, so they can mobilize.”
Ward tucked that last bit of information away for later. “How many men are we talking about?”
With three of them working at top efficiency, they could knock out a small army. But that required information and planning . . . and time. The last one was proving to be a huge problem.
Tasha had written off Gareth’s disappearance to sex and alcohol. Ward hoped that was true, but as the hours passed without communication, he started to think something else was at play. Gareth could be working for anyone, or he could be dead. Ward didn’t like either of those options.
Ford shook his head. “Not sure of the exact number of guards, but more than ten are walking around at all times, and Tigana keeps himself surrounded and secreted away.”
“Chicken shit.” Not as strong as Ward wanted to say but it made his point.
The wind kicked up, and the branches rattled. All three of them shifted into position—backs together and anchored to the nearest large tree trunk for some cover. If a gunman had tracked Ford, which Ward couldn’t imagine, or stumbled into their location, they’d be able to track him from all directions.
As the minutes dragged on, Ward kept his arms locked in the firing position as he listened to every sound. He honed in on a few, none of them human.
Once he’d placed them and discounted them as threats, he dropped his hands. “We need a plan.”
Tasha jumped in. She looked first to Ford. “You finish the count, and I’ll take out a guard. That way I can grab the radio or whatever they’re using to talk to one another and gain the advantage.”
Ward had to give her credit for guts, but no way was that plan happening. He trusted her to do the work, but there was a better way. His way. “Wrong, you’ll go with Ford, and I’ll grab a guard.”
The glare she shot him could have melted steel. “We’re not arguing about this.”
She could huff, scream—anything—and still not win this one. “No, Tasha, we’re not.”
“I don’t like it when Mom and Da
d fight,” Ford said in a childlike sing-songy voice.
Tasha let out one of her the-men-are-driving-me-apeshit sighs. “You’re not funny.”
Not to be outdone, Ford shrugged. “I kind of am.”
Enough. Ward put a hand on her arm and turned her until she faced him. “This isn’t a man-woman thing. This is a practical issue. These guys outweigh you.”
“Which is irrelevant when I sneak up behind them and shoot them in the head.”
Her comeback made his back teeth slam together. “You have an answer for everything.”
Ford held his hands together in the sign of a T right between Tasha’s and Ward’s bodies. “Okay, clearly you two have issues you need to work out. Probably has something to do with that kiss, I’m guessing.”
“Ford,” Ward gritted out.
“Work it all out now, and I’ll finish the count.” Ford glanced at his watch. “We’ll meet back here in twenty. We’re coming on morning now and need to move.”
“Are you in charge now?” she asked, enunciating each word.
Ward had to smile at that one. He did love to see her stick up for herself and what she believed to be the right thing to do. “You’d be smart to take off instead of answering that.”
“Good plan.” Ford stepped back and motioned for Ward to follow. “May I see you for a second?”
Ward seriously considered saying no. Between the gunmen and Tasha, the sex and the heat, he had almost all he could handle before rushing in to kill a dictator type. But saying no would only cause Ford to say whatever he intended to say in front of Tasha. Which was likely not a great idea.
After walking a good fifteen feet into the tree-covered area, Ward stopped. From here he could see Tasha as she took over the lookout position. Seemed to be she mumbled to herself as well.
Ward turned to his friend, knowing what was coming next and ready to shrug it all off. “What’s up?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ford put his hands on his hips. “Don’t play dumb.”
Yeah, there were limits, and Ward decided to make that clear right now. “I’d watch it.”
“Drop that tone.” Ford stood there, fearless and clearly in a fighting mood, as usual. “You need to get your priorities straight. You can’t save her, us, and the weapons and this assignment.”
“She doesn’t strike me as a woman who needs to be saved all that much.” Ward could only get so pissed off, as Ford was doing his job. Doing exactly what Ward had trained him to do. That didn’t mean he had to love it, and it certainly didn’t mean he was going to let Ford take verbal shots at Tasha’s competency. “Hell, she handled me just fine, and I’m pretty fucking hard to put down.”
Ford’s head shot back. “Well, damn.”
“What?” Ward ran back over everything he said. Maybe he’d picked up some of her defensiveness and jumped to conclusions too quickly.
“You are into her.” Ford lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “I mean, really into her.”
Damn it. Not a conversation Ward wanted to have . . . ever. “It was one kiss.”
Ford wore an expression that could only be described as oh, really. “So there wasn’t more than what I saw?”
Yeah, no way was Ward answering that one. He’d been trained to lie, but Ford had been trained to ferret out the truth. It was a dangerous combination. “Say whatever you’re going to say.”
Ford shifted until his back was to Tasha. “You have a job to do here, and it’s not her.”
The comment smacked a bit too close to the truth. Ward had started thinking about her and the job as one thing. In his head he didn’t pull them apart or think of her as a foreign agent whose mission might differ from his. They were in this together.
Not that he planned on filling Ford in on that conflict and potentially wrong thinking. Ward would have to work that one out on his own. “Yeah, I know. I’m in charge, remember?”
“Then stop thinking with your dick.”
All of Ward’s thoughts skidded to a halt. He’d never been accused of that before and refused to accept the charge now. “You have an assignment. Go do it.”
“Fine.” Ford shook his head. “But you know I’m right.”
And the whole walk back to Tasha, Ward feared his friend was correct on this. After confirming the time, Ford left. He had his pack and his watch and his weapons. The guy traveled light. He didn’t need more to be lethal. Ward liked that about him.
Tasha watched Ford’s retreating back. “What did he say to you over there?”
Ward debated lying but couldn’t come up with a reason to do so. She was a smart woman, and he was the one with his priorities all junked up. “That I’m being led around by my dick.”
“Huh.” Her eyes widened. “You actually told me the truth.”
“You asked.”
She smiled. “You are a constant surprise.”
The comment and the expression seemed to come out of nowhere. He’d half expected anger. He got amusement. This woman had him zigzagging all over the place. “Is that good?”
“I think it might be.” Her mouth fell.
He didn’t have to ask what drove the reaction. He heard it too. It wasn’t as if the person was taking care to be quiet. Pounding footsteps. Steady, almost a march.
“The guard is early.” He put a hand on her elbow, thinking to direct her into hiding. She could come out if he needed help subduing . . . She shook her head and stepped out of his hold. “Tasha?”
“I’ll distract him.” She put a finger over Ward’s lips as her voice dropped to little more than the sound of a breath. “This isn’t up for debate, so stop looking at me like that.”
A double shot of anxiety and anger hit him as he reached for her hand. “I love your power vibe but—”
“Stop there.” She dropped his hand and reached for the gun attached to her waistband, handing it over. “I can’t have this visible on me.”
“You’re pushing it.” And by “it,” he meant him. He could not let her go out there. This wasn’t a woman thing. This was about his personal code. He never handed danger off to other people. He stepped up.
And he needed her safe.
Before he could point any of that out, she squeezed his arm. “Take this guard down without any noise.”
Without another word she slipped away. Stepped right out into an opening in the trees. Held the binoculars and walked, looking up as if she were searching for something in the trees. Not doing anything to cover the sound of her steps.
Instead of yelling like he wanted to do, Ward swore under his breath. His instincts screamed at him to dart out and grab her before the guard made a turn and looked in her direction. There was no way the man wouldn’t see her then. He walked along the ridge about twenty feet above her and off to the left, facing the other direction. Unless this was his first day on the job, he’d sense her presence. Even someone not trained knew that ticking sensation at the back of his neck that said someone lingered nearby.
They had to play this out now. Bring the guard in closer, lure, and grab. Ward started a mental countdown as he cut through the trees leading away from Tasha. Ducking low and moving with careful steps, he circled, looking to put his body behind the gunman and within striking range.
In his position behind a clump of trees, he watched the gunman glance down the small hill, then do a double take. The guard stared at Tasha, then took off at a dead run. Momentum took him straight to Tasha’s position, almost knocking her over.
She jumped back, but he had her. Hands clasped around her shoulders as he yelled at her in a language Ward couldn’t make out. But he could see the gunman looked barely twenty. He also carried what looked like a radio.
Time to move.
Ward watched his footing as he skirted around roots and overturned rocks. When this guy showed up early, they weren’t in position. That meant trying to launch from behind him from halfway up a hill—not impossible, but Ward needed the guy quiet. He could not allow the guard to fire a wea
pon or get a shot off.
“I didn’t do anything.” Tasha held her hands over her head and let the binoculars drop around her neck. She cowered. Sounded panicked.
This was an act. Ward repeated that fact in his mind. She was playing her role.
The gunman kept talking. Fast, red-faced, and out of control, he shoved Tasha on her knees on the ground. “Kele!”
Stop. Ward didn’t know much Fijian but he knew that word. That meant this guy was a homegrown mercenary or military dropout or something. Tigana didn’t bring him to the islands. Ward filed that information away for later. Right now he needed this guy’s hands off her.
The gunman pressed on the back of her head, bending her neck toward the ground. His words ran into each other, and his weapon came up.
“Kere veivuke!”
Ward knew that phrase, too. Tasha was calling for help as she covered her head with her arms. Real or not, he was going in.
Crouching low, he stalked in, half at a jog. His steps were rushed, and his shoes slid on the angle of the hill. He made more noise than usual, and his focus stayed locked on Tasha and that gun waving too close to the back of her head.
He’d gotten within ten feet when the gunman turned. His hands started moving first to the gun. Then he reached for the radio hooked to his belt, and Ward pounced. He knocked into the guy’s stomach with a grunt and sent them both sprawling.
Ward hit the ground hard. Something sharp jabbed his leg, and the gunman’s weapon lodged between them. Ward didn’t know which way it aimed as they wrestled in a death match to shove each other’s hands away.
They rolled, and Ward’s back smacked into a tree. The gunman threw back his head, and Ward knew a cry for reinforcements was coming. Ward cut it off by wrapping his leg around the Gunman’s two and flipping him on his back. The energy surge had Ward panting as he slammed the gunman’s head against the ground.
Dazed and mumbling, the gunman was running out of steam and his movements slowed. The barrel of the gun pressed into Ward’s stomach, and he tried to rip it out of the other man’s hands. The gunman turned out to be strangely strong.
Running Hot Page 8
