by Ronie Kendig
“No.” She snorted off a laugh as she trailed him. “You are upsetting me by consistently pushing me away when I can see as plain as day you are attracted to me. Whatever it is, Dane, whatever is haunting you, you need to get out from under its power.”
“I wish it were that simple.”
Aspen didn’t yield. “Why isn’t it?”
He traced her cheek, tingling and shooting darts of heat down her neck and into her stomach. “You are sweet but nai—”
“Naive.” She smiled up at him. “Yeah. It’s not the first time that’s been said about me. And it’s not a bad thing, I’ll have you know. Just because I believe in you, believe in the man you are—”
“You don’t know who I am.” Razor sharp, his words sliced through her heart.
Fear and uncertainty swooped in, striking at the essence of what she believed was happening—clearing the air, deepening their relationship. She wanted that. Wanted him to break free from whatever stopped him from accepting her.
“See? You aren’t even sure. Is that what you want?” His words weren’t as confident this time. Hurt glowed like a halo around them. “Doubts, fears—about me, being afraid of me?”
What was he saying? Why did he look at her with that loathing expression?
“So, you’re not Dane Markoski, technically and legally my husband?” Man, she wanted to smack him, smack some sense into him. Or the cantankerous side out of him.
After a long, lingering look, he turned away. “Right now, he’s the only person I want to be.”
“How is it you can face untold terrors and dangers in the field, on missions, but when it comes to what you feel for me, you run scared?”
“I’m not scared.”
Aspen nearly laughed. He sounded just like Austin in high school, when he gave his litany of reasons why he couldn’t ask Amanda Blair to the homecoming dance.
“Baloney!” Aspen slapped the curl from her face that kept batting her cheek. “Fear is driving your campaign of misery. Fear is stopping you from what you feel for me. When will you man up and face whatever is eating you alive? If this isn’t who you are, then be who you are. Show that man to me!”
Fire spewed from his eyes. “Be careful what you ask for.”
“Why?” She stepped closer, furious. “Are you afraid I might actually like him better?”
Everything in him seemed to swell. His shoulders bunched. His fists balled as he curled in on himself, his chin tucked. “You will never see that man.” He took a breath, and the fire gushed out of him. The difference reminded her of a balloon, deflated of helium. Shriveled. Used. Empty.
Though something in her wanted to quit, to walk away from this insane argument with him, she had a larger sense of dread that if she did, Dane would be lost to her forever.
Fight for him. The words boomed through her. So, he said she’d never see that man, huh? “Why? I’m not good enough?”
“Once you see that man, you’ll beat the fastest path out of my life.”
Oh no, no he wouldn’t get away with that. Wouldn’t blame her for walking away. “Give me more credit than that. I might be stupid and naive in your book, but at least I have a heart and give people a chance, believe in them—in you, Dane.” How many times would she have to say it before he believed and accepted it?
“Then your belief is misplaced.”
“No.” Breathing through the pounding of her heart hurt. “No, it’s not. Your fear is crippling you, Dane. Robbing you, stealing joy from your life. You sit in cathedrals longing for something you think you can never have because you’re too afraid to reach for it.”
Dane jerked toward her, scowling. But silent.
“That’s the same thing happening right here, right now. I know that. I feel it deep”—she touched her fingers together and pressed them to her abdomen—“in the core of my being.”
“Can’t you see?” He took a step toward her but held himself tense. “You’re angry. I made you angry. Do you think it ends there?”
“Dane, people fight. They argue. Get mad at each other. It’s normal.”
“No.” He returned to the wall and stepped around her. “Not like—” He clamped his mouth shut. Lips in a thin line, he lowered his head.
There. There it was, whatever was haunting him, turning him into this stubborn, thickheaded oaf who wouldn’t release whatever insanity held his mind and heart captive in a painful prison.
“Like what? Like you?”
He wouldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t move.
Aspen went to him. “Dane…?”
“The c”—he drew in a long breath—“the man who killed my mother.”
Was that who Dane feared? Why? What did his mom’s murderer have to do with him? The dots wouldn’t connect. “Talk to me, please. I want to help.” She touched his side, felt the deep rise and fall of his breathing. “I’m not going anywhere, Dane. I’m here. I love you.” The words rang in her ears, startling. Exhilarating.
Locked on to her, Dane’s eyes searched her face. “Don’t say that. Please…don’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She couldn’t help the smile. His words warred with the longing, the aching resonating through his handsome face. “Well, I do love you, and you will hurt me. It’s what people do, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”
“You are so beautiful, so pure…” His hand slid to the back of her neck as he captured her mouth with his, pulling her deeper beneath the swell of his strength and passion. It felt as if she tumbled into a hot tub, the warmth bubbling around her as his arms encircled her. Crushed her against his chest.
Abandoned Building, Djibouti
Neil Crane cursed. God forgive his Christian upbringing, but he did. That whopper of a kiss severely complicated things.
“You ready?”
He turned to Lina. “You kidding? That”—he pointed toward the building where Cardinal and the American team had holed up—“screws up everything.”
“It changes nothing.” She turned and lifted a phone from the windowsill. Eyes on him, she pressed a button then placed the phone to her ear.
“Who are you calling?” He drew his own phone out, surreptitiously hitting the record button.
With a rueful smile, she walked away from him. Out of the room. “Privet…On v lyubvi.”
Neil turned from the window. Russian? She was speaking Russian? Since when? He moved carefully, quietly, closer. He watched the screen as his phone received the words and translated them for him.
Hello. He’s in love.
Thank God for gadgets.
“…da…nyet! Nyet, on slishkom khorosho…Khorosho. Prekrasno. Da, segodnya vecherom…”
YES. NO! NO, HE’S TOO GOOD…OKAY. VERY WELL. YES, tonight. She stood by a wall, her head in her hand as she listened. “Poka.”
BYE.
Neil pocketed the phone and drew the Ruger from its holster. He eased into the room, aiming at her head.
Twenty-Seven
Special Operations Safe House, Djibouti
His universe tilted a degree. Cardinal felt the implosion of everything he’d carefully constructed to keep him safe, to stop him from perpetuating a curse. And Aspen Courtland had dismantled every trap, every barrier, every reason.
The way she fit in his arms amazed him. The kiss had been long enough to sear his conscience. Long enough to tell him he wanted more, so much more. Long enough to scare the living daylights out of him, too.
Perfect. She was perfect. Being with her was perfect.
A perfect formula for disaster.
Cardinal closed his eyes against the thought, swallowed and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. Lavender. Maybe some vanilla. He hated that he knew those smells because they would forever be ingrained in his mind as belonging to her. He’d never be able to forget her. Forget what had just transpired.
“I love you.”
She had no idea who she loved. She didn’t even know his real name.
The question burnin
g against his conscience was, did he love her?
He’d do anything for her. Maybe that was the terror of it all—he’d kill for her. Kill anyone and anything, including his feelings for her, if he felt that would keep her safest. Because suddenly this woman, who was sweet and sensitive yet had an iron will, seemed like a glass rose in his large, clumsy hands.
Aspen drew back and looked up at him again.
Cardinal couldn’t help himself. Or rather—he did help himself—to another kiss. So sweet. So willing. He liked the way she stiffened at first under the touch of their lips then relaxed into it. Her hands on his back, fingers pressing into him, deepening the kiss burned the last of his resolve.
Something bumped against his leg. Pushed between them—no, pushed them apart.
Giggling, Aspen drew back and looked down. “I think he’s jealous.” When she met Cardinal’s gaze again, she wore a shy smile.
Talon plopped between them, panting as he peered up at them.
Cardinal eased against the half wall, hauling in his reeling thoughts, and petted the Lab. “I think it’s me who should be jealous.” Smart dog. Wedging in, planting himself solidly in a position as if to say, “Back off. She’s mine.” As he reached toward the dog, a low rumble carried through Talon’s chest. His tail flicked.
“Hey. Sorry. That’s normal—he’s not a pet, and sometimes—”
Talon’s bark severed her words.
Aspen ruffled his head and rubbed his ears. “It’s okay, boy. I can handle having two handsome guys in my life.”
In her life…
Didn’t she realize that couldn’t happen? Man, he’d never felt the urge to backpedal faster than he did right now. Fear. No, it was bigger, stronger. He could feel it. Aspen was right. He was afraid of this. Letting go of his strict Cardinal rules was like jumping off a cliff. Free fall. Straight to his death. Maybe even hers.
And the angel flew.
“Aspen, listen.” Cardinal raked his hand through his hair, groping for some tendril of sanity. Some way to lower the boom. “I…I can’t—”
Again, Talon’s growl leapt into the night. Cardinal glanced at the dog, who pushed onto all fours and walked to the other side, sniffing the air. He barked. Whimpered. Sat down. Looked at her then scooted closer to the wall.
“That’s…weird.” Aspen turned toward the dog.
Cardinal stood, using the distraction to turn the conversation away from his weakness. “What?”
“That’s…I think that’s a hit.” She looked at him with a frown. “But on what?”
The door flung open. Candyman leapt out. “Hey.” He slowed for a second, his gaze taking in the scene. No doubt the entirely too observant grunt knew what was going on. “Downstairs. Burnett’s on the line. We’re moving.” And just as quick the guy disappeared the way he’d come.
Downstairs, Cardinal, Aspen, and Talon gathered with the others. A full ensemble.
“Circle up.” Watterboy motioned them around a laptop that sat on the table. “Go ahead, General. We’re all present.”
“Where’s the happy couple?”
Cardinal arched his eyebrow as he planted a hand on the table and leaned in. “You’re not funny.”
Burnett roared, his broad shoulders bouncing. “Yeah, I keep telling my doctor that.” He pounded a fist on the table. “Lousy, no-good—he put me on a diet! Said my blood pressure is too high.” He wagged a finger at the camera. “That’s your fault, you know. I’m not drinking no crappy Diet Dr Pepper, so get me some answers I can cram into this leak that’s pouring dung into my lap.”
“What leak?”
“Payne!”
Cardinal digested the news. “What do you have?”
“Show him,” Burnett said as he stabbed a thick finger at the webcam.
Watterboy flattened a map between Cardinal’s hand and the laptop’s keyboard. “Here and here.”
“What am I looking at?”
“Caravans.”
Cardinal peered through his brow at the live-feed video. Was that word supposed to mean something? “There are caravans all over the place. I see them every day.”
“Not like this.”
“Why?”
“In and out,” Watterboy said. “Same route. Twice a week.”
“Where are they going?”
“Sliding right past our base to the docks.”
“Cargo?”
“That’s what you need to find out.” Burnett popped the top on a DP can and took a slurp.
“It’s muffed up,” Candyman said, chomping into an apple. Juice dribbled down his beard.
“You’re disgusting,” Timbrel said, her lip curled.
“Hey, hazards of the beard.” Candyman winked as he used his sleeve to clean up.
Cardinal waited for someone to elaborate. He hated being the last one in on the information.
“At first look,” Watterboy said, “we thought maybe weapons.”
“No way.” Candyman pitched the apple into a metal bin. “Pardon me, General,” he said as he leaned in, keyed in something, and drew up images. His thick, tanned finger jabbed toward the screen. “Check it. Those aren’t weapons’ crates, and though there is a butt-load of illegal weapons traipsing across this desert, that’s not a known weapons’ cache.”
“Where was that image taken and when?”
“A half-dozen kilometers outside Omo National Park.”
Pushing up, Cardinal frowned. “Sudan?” It made no sense. Clearly Burnett and Hastings had been busy, tracking the caravan from one place to the next. “Aren’t there gold mines out there?”
“Yeah, but dude, c’mon.” Candyman grinned. “They aren’t smuggling gold. No reason to. Everyone knows that’s what’s there and that it’s being mined. Besides—” Candyman traced a path on the map from Sudan, past the base and to another point. “FOB Kendall is funneling whatever it is through their little camp then giving them clear passage to the docks.”
Cardinal stared at the information, at the maps, at the images. “What else is in that region? Minerals, I mean.”
Watterboy shrugged. “Got me.”
Though the man feigned ignorance, Cardinal had a gut instinct that he could wager a pretty accurate guess. “Gold mines.” He rubbed his jaw, thinking. Actually, not liking what he was thinking.
“What is it?” Aspen stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
“There are gold mines there, just like Candyman said.” He sighed. “Some uranium is also recovered as a by-product with copper, or as a by-product from the treatment of other ores, such as the gold-bearing ores of South Africa.”
“Uranium?” Aspen scrunched her nose.
Candyman whistled. “Yeah, aka, yellowcake.”
Curses flitted on the hot air and from the laptop.
“Hey, get me back on!” the general growled. At his command and a few clicks, Burnett’s round face glared at them again. “Cardinal, if you really think that’s what’s happening out there, then we have to find that—”
“Should be easy. The uranium decay puts off radiation.”
“Think I need you to tell me that, VanAllen?”
Contrite and smirking, Candyman lowered his head. “No, sir.”
“Then shut up.”
“General,” Cardinal said, wanting to laugh, “your blood pressure.”
“Get off my back. I know what I’m doing. And you bunch of girls are the ones blowing my pressure through the roof. Now, get down there and find those crates. I want this solved.”
“Sir?” Cardinal eased into view again. “Think Payne is connected to this? Think that’s why he wanted me out of here and the rest of us locked up on base so we couldn’t catch wind of his little operation?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. But we don’t have time for guesses. I need proof!”
Cardinal looked to Watters. “Where are the crates now?”
“Port of Djibouti.”
“We need to move or we’ll lose them.”
“Gear up!”
Abandoned Apartment, Djibouti
Lina turned, her eyes widening as she lowered the phone.
“Hands up.” He stared down the sights of his Ruger, shoving his mind away from the feelings that had strangled his good sense, stopped him from figuring this out sooner. “Where I can see them.” He nodded as she turned, arms held out. His head pounded—why had he ever trusted her? “You’ve been working me.”
She swallowed. Guilt. Nerves.
“Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is that we have the same goal.”
Neil laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“You want Cardinal captured. So do we—I.”
“No.” He cocked his head. “Let’s go with your first try—we. Who’s we?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
“Then let me put another hole in that pretty head of yours.”
“Don’t be stupid. You kill me, you don’t get Cardinal.”
“Hey, doll, if I don’t kill you, then I don’t get him—because you’re going to take him right out from under me, isn’t that right?”
She had a will of iron. “You will get your answers.” She lifted her jaw. “Then I get mine.”
“That sounds mighty tidy. Too tidy.”
“We’re out of time.” She wasn’t the Lina he’d been willing to spill his guts for two hours ago. The soft, innocent facade had evaporated with her seething anger. “We do this or we don’t. What’s it going to be, cowboy?” She tossed a look over her shoulder. “They’re leaving.”
Neil rose from the chair and walked to the window. He tugged back the dingy sheet and peered along the sliver between the material and the chipped plaster wall. Darkness inside and out made it easier to see without losing time for compensating as vision adjusted to the new light setting.
He was right. “They know.” Then he’d been right not to trust Cardinal.
But he’d been wrong to trust the woman beside him. He’d been sucked into the old romance trap. Bought it. And the island in Arkansas.
Gah! Had he really been that stupid?
