Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Saving Sofia (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Underground Book 7)

by Becca Jameson

  Seconds ticked by, and then she turned to face Roman where he stood next to the table. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  His brow furrowed. “Was I ever mean to you?”

  Yes.

  He shook his head. “Okay. Don’t answer that. It was a jackass move on my part to leave without telling you. I’m sorry. I should have said something.” He propped his palms on the back of a chair. “You were so… And I was so…” He blew out a breath and turned back toward the kitchen. “What do you want to eat? I could heat up some canned soup? Or make a sandwich? Or I have some frozen meals? Just trying to think of something fast and easy. You look like you’re going to collapse. When was the last time you ate?”

  Not today. But she didn’t say anything. Instead she shrugged. “I eat.”

  Without waiting for a response, he took a bottle of water and the fixings for a sandwich out of the fridge, kicked it closed, and dropped it all on the table. He didn’t speak while he made her the perfect sandwich.

  She slid into a chair at the table and bit the inside of her lip, watching him. He remembered what she liked. And her chest grew tight.

  “There,” he declared, setting it in front of her. “Turkey. Ham. Lettuce. Light mayo. No mustard. No cheese.” He smiled triumphantly.

  She lost the battle with the tears and let them fall down her cheeks silently.

  He slid into the chair across from her and pointed at the sandwich. “Eat, Sofia. I know there’s a long story behind those sad eyes of yours, but I’m not going to force it out of you tonight. Eat. I’ll get you set up in the guest room. You can sleep. Whatever you have to say, it can wait until morning.

  It can wait until never.

  She ate the food, hardly tasting it around her nerves, but knowing she needed the nourishment. Her stomach hurt from eating so much too fast. She hadn’t had a real meal in a long time. Sometimes she ate at the diner, but just enough to get her through the day. George made his employees pay for what they ate. He didn’t even give them a discount. Asshole.

  When she finished, she grabbed her purse and followed Roman down the hall. He entered a room to the right and turned around. “Guest room.” He pointed across the hall. “Bathroom’s there. I’ll see if I can find you a spare toothbrush. I doubt my friend has anything girlie for you to bathe with, but I’ll take care of that in the morning.” He smiled. It wasn’t so broad that it reached his eyes, but it was caring.

  And she felt like a heel for treating him badly.

  He left you.

  Did he deserve her wrath? She wasn’t sure.

  Roman snapped his fingers, bolted from the room, and returned a moment later holding out a T-shirt. “You can sleep in this. I’ll sort out clothes tomorrow too. Okay?”

  “Thank you.” She took it from him, knowing it would take her a long time to relax with his scent enveloping her. But she had no other options.

  Roman stepped forward slowly until he was in her space. He reached out with both arms and hauled her toward his chest.

  Jesus. Rock solid muscle met her cheek.

  “I can tell you’ve been through a lot. I’m so sorry. Let me help. I’m here. You’re not alone.” He kissed the top of her head.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Did he have any idea what his actions did to her? Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples pebbled. And her panties were wet for the first time in years.

  She didn’t return the hug, but she did let him hold her for a long time. Finally, he released her and walked away. She listened while he headed down the hallway until he shut a door.

  Even though she’d give anything for a hot shower with good water pressure, she was too tired and drained to do more than peel the stupid yellow dress off her body, drop her bra on the floor with it, kick off her shoes, and tug the T-shirt over her head.

  She crawled into the bed without bothering to use the bathroom. So soft. The sheets were clean. The pillow was fluffy. The shirt smelled of Roman. With that last thought, she drifted off.

  Abram leaned against the door to the master bedroom for several minutes.

  He couldn’t catch his breath. It had taken all his willpower to not shoot rapid fire questions at Sofia while she ate.

  She was obviously exhausted, mentally and physically.

  She clearly had a full plate that didn’t include losing her job. He felt only a twinge of guilt for his part in that. After all, why on earth was she working at such a shitty place? She could surely get a job somewhere else doing anything else.

  Right?

  What the hell kept her going back to the diner day after day when she obviously didn’t make enough money to pay her rent?

  He didn’t have the answers. All he had was new visions of the woman who had crept into his dreams for fifteen years.

  She was older, but age hadn’t dampened her looks. She needed a few pounds on her, a good shampoo, a haircut, and some clean clothes, but when all of that was fixed, she would be even more gorgeous than she’d been at twenty.

  Had he made a mistake all those years ago? His gut clenched. It wouldn’t help to think like that. It was done.

  Besides, she’d been too young. He had to keep reminding himself of that. She was still too young. For him. He was fifty now. She was thirty-five. She deserved a man in her age bracket. Not some old geezer no longer in his prime.

  No. The age gap was still insurmountable. If fate had meant for them to be together, she would have arranged for them to be born in the same decade.

  Ignoring the hard-on that insisted the sexy woman in the other room was not too young for him, he changed out of his clothes, pulled on a pair of boxers, and headed for the attached bath.

  Tex had a gorgeous home with amazing amenities.

  Abram knew Tex had lost part of one leg during a mission with the SEALs. He also knew Tex had spent quite a few years holed up in this house working behind the scenes on his computers and avoiding the world. Apparently he’d found a woman who loved him. About time someone pulled him out of his shell.

  Abram smiled, happy for his friend and hoping one day he might get to meet Tex face to face.

  As Abram slid into bed, he tried to calm his racing heart.

  Sofia Leskov. He’d lusted after her years ago and still did. She tore at his heart strings. He needed to handle her carefully or risk causing her to run. He also needed to tamp down his stiff cock and the urge to kiss the life out of her. She needed someone to help her, not consume her. Especially not some fifty-year-old guy with a balding head and too many wrinkles around the eyes to count.

  Too much time spent in the sun in his youth had left him weathered. He was aware. He also knew he still had his body. And was thankful. Ten years working undercover as a mixed martial arts trainer would do that to a man. He had to stay in shape to be taken seriously. That was one perk of the last job he was grateful for.

  Whatever the next job entailed, he sure hoped it didn’t involve a desk or he’d be doomed.

  He listened closely, noticing Sofia never left the guest bedroom.

  He ached for her. What was her story? He longed to know.

  Tomorrow he’d get her some clothes and toiletries. And then he’d get himself some answers.

  Chapter 5

  Sofia woke to the scent of bacon. For a moment she was disoriented and bolted upright, thinking she’d dozed off against the counter at work.

  She glanced around the room while reality kicked in.

  Roman.

  Jesus. She was in a house with Roman. And he was cooking bacon.

  Her stomach growled. She was starving. He was right about one thing. She hadn’t eaten enough in months.

  She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wondering how she was going to face him. She needed a shower and clean clothes. She needed a toothbrush and coffee.

  What she didn’t need was to leave this room and confront Roman wearing nothing but his T-shirt and a pair of panties. She also did not want to put that damn polyester dress back on. The idea
made her cringe.

  Besides… it was no longer on the floor next to the bed.

  Her face heated as she glanced around. Oh God.

  She was certain she’d left her dress and her bra on the floor. As well as her shoes. All of that was gone now.

  Had Roman come in and taken her clothes? Why?

  She slid her feet to the floor, padded across the room, and eased the door open. The scent of bacon and now coffee assaulted her, further tempting her. But since she couldn’t see Roman when she glanced both ways, she darted across the hallway and shut herself in the bathroom.

  She pursed her lips as she glanced at the counter next to the sink. A pile of new clothes sat neatly folded on the white tile. He’d thought of everything. There was a bra, panties, a T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

  For a moment she stood there frozen. The gesture was extremely thoughtful. The thought of him purchasing such intimate apparel for her was almost more than she could bear. She glanced at her watch. It was ten o’clock. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever slept that late. No wonder he’d managed to acquire all that stuff already.

  She pushed off the door, trying to ignore the feelings swirling around in her head, and turned on the shower. It heated while she stripped out of the T-shirt and panties and climbed in.

  Luxury. For three years she’d been living in the hellhole that was her apartment. The water rarely reached a bearable temperature, and the water pressure made it impossible to rinse the soap thoroughly out of her hair.

  This shower in Roman’s friend’s home felt so good she moaned and considered never getting out. When she finally opened her eyes and looked around for soap, she found a neat row of items Roman had also obviously purchased while she’d slept.

  Damn, the man was good.

  She inhaled the scent of lavender from the shampoo and nearly died of excitement. Her hair had been a disaster for over a year. That’s how long it had been since she’d been able to afford luxuries like specialty shampoo. This was probably no big deal, and Roman would have no idea what he’d done for her, but it was huge.

  The conditioner felt just as amazing. The razor he’d bought was sharp. The body soap equally girly. She had tears running down her face by the time she finished bathing. And she didn’t know if they were tears of joy, fear, exhaustion, hope… The list went on. She couldn’t seem to stop them from falling.

  Sofia grabbed a fluffy towel when she was able to force herself to get out of the shower. She wrapped up in it and took deep breaths, trying to regain some composure before she dressed and exited the bathroom.

  Taking her time, she was amazed at how well everything fit. That explained why he’d taken her clothes off the floor. Most likely to get the sizes.

  She tried not to think too hard about the matching white lace bra and panty set. Feminine. Dainty. But not too suggestive. How did the man pick this stuff out?

  By the time she exited the bathroom, she was a ball of nerves. She didn’t bother with the shoes yet, but carried them into the living room and set them on the floor next to the couch.

  For a moment, she stared at Roman’s back where he stood at the stove. God, he was beautiful. Still so muscular and fit after all these years. She imagined he must work out nearly every day. The way his arms moved over the pan at the stove… His ass was as tight as she remembered, one of his best features. His shoulders… Damn. Broad and relaxed.

  The black T-shirt he wore this morning pulled tight against his muscles. She wanted to run her hands over the planes of his body, the same longing she’d had fifteen years ago. Nothing had changed. Nothing. The ache she’d felt then slammed back into her now.

  She hated how he affected her. How he could control her just by being in the same room. He made her want… Want something she couldn’t have, because he wasn’t offering it to her. He hadn’t then, and she knew instinctively he wouldn’t now.

  She had to yank her gaze away from him in order to breathe. She turned her face toward the windows facing the ocean. The sun was rising, its rays casting a gorgeous sheen over the water. It called to her again this morning as it had last night.

  Roman turned from the kitchen counter, drawing her attention. He held a spatula in one hand, and he froze. There was no expression on his face. His gaze roamed up and down her frame as if he weren’t sure who she was.

  The self-conscious feeling she had earlier increased tenfold. She cleared her throat. “Thank you… For the clothes and stuff.”

  He seemed to shake out of his trance. “You’re welcome. I hope it all fits. I gave your sizes to the sales lady and let her pick some things out. We can go back out later and get more, assuming we can’t get access to your apartment yet.”

  “You can’t keep buying me things. This is too much already. I don’t have any way to pay you back.” She clasped her hands in front of her and stepped toward him.

  He waved away her words as if they were offensive. “Don’t worry about it. Please. It’s nothing.” He nodded toward the table. “Sit. I made breakfast.”

  She shuffled toward the table and sat in the same spot as last night. Roman waited on her like last night too. She needed to crack the weirdness in the air before it consumed her. “If you could just drop me off at my apartment, I’d appreciate it. I’ll sort things out with my landlord in no time. Misunderstanding I’m sure.”

  Misunderstanding my ass. I can’t remember when I last paid the rent.

  Roman set a plate of food in front of her and another across from her. He headed back to the counter and returned again with a mug off coffee. “Do you still take it with cream and sugar?”

  She nodded, taking the mug from him. Damn. He was good. And he made things that much harder.

  He sat across from her, grabbed his fork, and started eating. The freaking chivalrous man had waited for her to wake up before eating.

  She was starving, so she didn’t hesitate. Bacon, eggs, toast. More than a normal human woman would eat in the morning. But she hadn’t had a hot breakfast in longer than she could remember either.

  When he was finished, he leaned back, holding his coffee in both hands. She wasn’t far behind him. Hunger did that.

  “You want more? There’s plenty.”

  “No.” She shook her head. She could probably eat another entire plate of food, but then she’d feel sick.

  “Okay, then talk to me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I know. I can tell. But do it anyway. Tell me what I’m working with, so I can help.”

  “You can’t help, Roman. And I’d never ask you to. My problems are mine. I own them.” And they are monstrous.

  He frowned, hesitating, and then leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and shortening the distance between them. “I sense you’ve been going it alone for a while. And while I know I pissed you off royally when I left, you have to know I’m a good guy at heart. I want to help. Lighten the burden. Talk to me.”

  She glanced down at her fingers and pulled her hands into her lap, knowing they were about to start shaking.

  “Okay, let’s start with the obvious. You’re out of money. You had a job that must have paid enough for the rent on that horrific excuse for an apartment, and yet you haven’t been paying it. It doesn’t seem to me that you’re spending the money on clothes or cars or makeup or hair products. Which means you either have a huge debt or you’re doing drugs.”

  She jerked her gaze to his, horrified.

  He smiled. “Got your attention. Come on, Sofia. I know you aren’t doing drugs. So where’s the money going?”

  She took a breath. Who cared if he knew? “My mother. She’s in a home. Alzheimer’s. She hasn’t known who I am for a year. I don’t even visit her anymore. It’s too sad, and I only leave there stressed and in tears.”

  “Okay, and your dad?”

  “He died of lung cancer five years ago.”

  “So you’re handling this all on your own?”

  “Yes.”

 
Abram nodded.

  “Roman—”

  He stopped her with a grin.

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to get used to hearing that name. Roman. Haven’t heard it in ten years.”

  “Jesus. You were on an assignment that long?”

  “Yep. So long that I now think of myself by another name.”

  “What was it?”

  “I’ll tell you sometime, but it’s too fresh right now. And I don’t want anyone to know who I am. So Roman it is. We’ll think up a good last name to go with it.”

  “Roman is your real name, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “The one your mother gave you?”

  “Yep.”

  “How hard is it to answer to Roman?”

  He smiled again. “It’s not. But when you say it… Well, it sounds seductive. Nothing like how my mother said it.”

  Her face burned.

  He chuckled. “Anyway, Roman. I’ll try to get it in my head. Roman. Roman. Got it. Okay. Now back to your mom. What the hell does this nursing home cost every month? Do you mind if I look at your statement? Try to help you figure this out. There has to be a way to make ends meet.”

  “Sure. You can look. If we can get back into my apartment.” She was growing more comfortable. Why had it seemed so hard to let him in? Maybe because he hurt you the last time you saw him?

  “We will. I’ll talk to your landlord.” He stood, grabbed their plates, and tucked them in the dishwasher. “You feel like heading over there? We can stop and get some more supplies on the way back.”

  “If we get in, we won’t need anything else.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “Why do I doubt that entrance to your apartment will suddenly cause you to be flush with clothing and accessories?”

  She sighed. No sense arguing. But no way in hell was he going to buy her anything else.

  She turned to face the ocean, letting the sun hit her face where it streamed through the window. “Do you mind if I step outside for a moment before we go?”