Suzanne Brockmann - Team Ten 07 - The Admiral's Bride

by Suzanne Brockmann

  He was kissing her. Jake Robinson was kissing her because he wanted to, not because he had to. Tears stung the inside of her eyelids, and for the first time she let herself acknowledge that she wanted Jake Robinson more than she'd ever wanted any man. He was her hero, her commander and in many ways her deity. She worshiped him, on every possible level.

  He pushed her back so she bumped against the concrete block of the storage-room wall as still he kissed her. His hands were all over her as he pressed himself hard between her legs, pulling her thigh up along his as he strained to get closer, even closer, playing out her wildest fantasy. But when he cupped her breast far more roughly than she would have expected, she opened her eyes in surprise.

  And saw Christopher Vincent standing at the half-open storage-room door, his hand on the knob as he looked in at them.

  He pulled the door shut behind him, and when he did, Jake stopped kissing her. He took his hand from her breast

  but otherwise just stood there, eyes closed, breathing hard, forehead resting against the wall beside her.

  She'd been wrong. Jake hadn't really been kissing her. Somehow he must've heard the door open. Somehow he'd known that Christopher was there.

  It wasn't a want-to kiss, after all. It was a had-to kiss.

  Zoe drew in a very shaky breath. "Oh, God."

  Jake pulled away from her, his eyes dark with apology. "I'm sorry—did I hurt you?"

  She tried to joke. "Are you kidding? That was more fun than I've had in weeks."

  He turned slightly away from her, and she realized that her shirt was hanging open in the front where Chris had stretched it, revealing the entire top edge of her very low-cut bra. She picked her T-shirt up from the floor, and turning her back to Jake, she quickly changed.

  "We've got too much to talk about, too much to decide," Jake told her. "So I'm going to go home with you tonight."

  She turned to face him, her heart in her throat despite the fact that she knew nothing would happen between them even if he did spend the night in her trailer. He'd had to kiss her. God, she was such a fool for thinking otherwise.

  "I don't think that's a good idea. Why would you marry me if you can just get some whenever you want? Besides, I've set up my cover so that everyone out there in that bar knows that I'm looking to get married. What are they going to think if I just suddenly settle for casual sex?"

  "I'm sorry," he said. "But I've changed my mind about the whole marriage thing. Zoe, this guy is nuts. The entire organization is screwy. The way they treat women is criminal. I can't let you do this."

  "Jake, you promised that you'd let me decide—"

  "That was before I knew how bad it would be. On top of that, Vincent's got security cameras everywhere. I found at least three in my bedroom. How the hell can I bring you

  there? Don't you think it would look a little suspicious when I don't make love to my gorgeous young wife?"

  "So bring me there and make love to me." Zoe couldn't believe she was actually bold enough to say the words aloud.

  Jake was silent, looking at her, looking hard into her eyes as if trying to see if she'd really meant what she'd just said.

  She held his gaze, pretending she was as flip and blase about the idea of being intimate with him, pretending she could shrug it off as just another job requirement, pretending it would mean no more to her than a way to find that missing Trip X.

  It's no big deal, she told him with her smile, even as her heart was pounding.

  "Even if you would do that," he finally said, "I wouldn't. I couldn't." He turned away. "That's not an option."

  Zoe felt like crying. He honestly didn't want her. Even with necessity as a solid excuse, he couldn't acknowledge that any of the passion that sparked between them when they kissed was genuine. And maybe it wasn't. Maybe he was the best actor she'd ever met, and all of the real passion was her own.

  God, she was pathetic.

  But that was just too bad. Because she had a job to do and no time to feel sorry for herself.

  She took a deep breath. "So you're just going to do this by yourself—find the Triple X on your own? All alone?"

  "I need to get a message to Harvard. I think there's a way to intercept the images from the security cameras— but I'll need some equipment from him. If I can do that, you'll be able to see inside the CRO compound from the safety of the surveillance trailer."

  "What if that's not enough? Jake, you know it's going to be easier for me to help you find the Trip X if I'm there with you. I think we've got to leave our options open. So I'm not going to let you pretend to come home with me,

  in case we need to use the marriage thing in the future." And wouldn't that be fun? Living with him twenty-four seven, pretending to be lovers, all the while knowing that she was about the farthest thing possible from the woman he truly wanted?

  She handed him her ordering pad and pen. ' 'Write Harvard a message," she continued. "Write down whatever equipment you need. Whatever he needs to know. I'll see that he gets it."

  There was a knock on the door and old Roy stuck his head in. "Zoe, Gus is looking for you. Hal's bowling team just showed up." He frowned at Jake. "Say, young fellow, you're not supposed to be back here." He stepped farther into the room. "Everything all right, Zoe?"

  Zoe gave the old man a reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Roy. Tell Gus I'll be right there."

  She looked at Jake as the door closed behind Roy. "I better get out there."

  He couldn't hide his frustration: "There's more we need to discuss."

  Zoe started for the door. "Load the jukebox with quarters, then buy another round for your friends. As soon as there's a lull, ask me to dance. Hal doesn't mind if the waitresses dance with the paying customers. We can talk more on the dance floor. Just make sure the songs you pick are ballads." She paused, her hand on the door. "I know this is distasteful for you, but I can't think of any other way for us to have a private conversation."

  "Zoe—"

  She closed the door behind her and hurried to the bar.

  Chapter

  Jake made a quick sweep of the room as he headed for the jukebox. The bar wasn't filled to capacity, but compared to when he'd first come in, it was hopping.

  A tall man with long, greasy salt-and-pepper hair and a droopy mustache was behind the bar with Zoe and the bartender. He had to be Hal Francke. Sure enough, he didn't move past Zoe in the crowded space without touching her in some way.

  So bring me there and make love to me.

  Jake shook his head to exorcise Zoe's husky voice. She'd been serious. He'd seen it in her eyes. She would have had sex with him, in front of those cameras, to boot, in order to get this job done.

  He stared sightlessly at the listing of songs on the old-fashioned jukebox, wishing he had some of her recklessness, her impetuousness, her careless youth. Wishing he could break away from everything that held him to the past, but knowing that even if he could forget for one night, for one hour, even if he could lose himself completely in this

  woman's sweet arms, he'd wake up and be right back where he'd started in the morning.

  Or maybe even in a worse place.

  / know this is distasteful for you.... Zoe had said that as she walked out the door. He had to set her straight. He couldn't have her continue to believe that. There was a lot about this assignment that was distasteful, but being with her was not.

  Like he'd told her nearly five weeks ago—he liked kissing her. Too much. And even after all this time apart, he still liked it. Still much too much. He'd thought the distance would be good, that it would give him some perspective, some sense of reality. But all those weeks he'd dreamed about her in ways that were outrageously inappropriate.

  He'd started out dreaming of Daisy, erotic, sensuous dreams of lovemaking filled with heat and light and such vivid sensations. But his dream would shift and change, the way dreams often do, and then-Zoe would become the woman in his arms, her body wrapped around him.

  He'd wake up
, dizzy and out of breath and achingly, painfully alone.

  Jake forced himself to focus and fed the jukebox dollar bills, punching in all the slow romantic ballads he could identify. He'd just picked a Leann Rimes song when he saw Christopher Vincent approach, his image shimmery but unmistakable in the curved glass.

  He felt himself tense and worked hard to keep the smile on his face a pleasant one. God, when Christopher had grabbed Zoe, Jake had had to physically restrain himself. He'd come damn close to picking the man up and throwing him across the room.

  "I guess our new little waitress likes you," Christopher said.

  Jake pushed the buttons for a Garth Brooks song, not even looking up. "Oh, is she new here?"

  "She came into town a few weeks ago. Hal met her at

  some party. Don't worry. I've checked her out. She's exactly what she says she is."

  "Well, that's good to know." Jake smiled at Chris. "But no real surprise. I mean, she doesn't come across as some kind of rocket scientist or—I don't know—some kind of biochemical engineer. Can you imagine her in a lab coat?''

  Christopher laughed, and Jake laughed, too, knowing that the real joke was on the CRO leader. God, it was going to be so good to nail this guy....

  "Yeah," Chris said, "I can imagine her wearing only a lab coat." He laughed again. "She is some hot ticket."

  Jake turned to the jukebox, uncomfortable with Christopher's openly lascivious appraisal of Zoe, not wanting to be a part of it in any way.

  "I've seen her counting on her fingers," Chris continued, "but with a body like that, it's almost better that she's not too bright." He looked at the bar, watching Zoe as she poured another pitcher of beer. "Oh, yeah. She's choice."

  As if she were a cut of meat. Jake felt his smile turning even more brittle and he stared at the jukebox, reminding himself why he couldn't simply beat the hell out of Christopher Vincent right here and right now.

  "Just so you know not to get your hopes up too high," Christopher told him before he walked away, "she's holding out for marriage, our little Zoe is. You'd have better luck with Carol."

  Jake glanced at the bar, but Zoe was gone. He quickly scanned the room, found her making the rounds of tables, double-checking that everyone had all the beer and liquor they needed to get them through the next few minutes.

  She looked up, caught him gazing at her, and for a fraction of a second, he saw a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. Distasteful. Did she honestly think he found this part of the set up distasteful?

  But just like that the uncertainty was gone and she smiled.

  It was a very inviting, very warm smile, complete with

  a very slow, very appreciative up-and-down look that was totally lacking in subtlety. It was a look he might've gotten back in high school, and his body responded in a way far more appropriate for a seventeen-year-old than a fifty-something grown man.

  Jake moved toward her as surely as she made her way toward him. It was as if they both were magnetized, as if they couldn't have stayed apart from one another even if they'd tried.

  Zoe set her tray on top of an empty table.

  He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, afraid if he didn't he wouldn't be able to keep himself from reaching for her.

  "I didn't buy another round yet," he told her. "When I came out, someone else had just—"

  "It's okay." She looked away, as if suddenly shy. "You know, if you don't want to dance, we could try sitting at a table toward the back. But Gus and Hal might—"

  He took his hands out of his back pockets, and just like that, he had her by her hand and was pulling her toward the dimly lit dance floor next to the jukebox. Just like that she was in his arms and swaying gently in time to the music.

  "You should talk fast," she told him. "I don't know how long I'll have before Gus needs me."

  He pulled her closer. "This is not distasteful," he murmured into her ear. "Let's start with that, all right?"

  Zoe shook her head. "Jake, you don't have to—"

  "It's just..." He searched to find the words that would explain. "It's very...weird for me. I was with only one woman for nearly thirty years—nearly your entire lifetime. Can you even imagine that?"

  Silently, she shook her head.

  "I'm going to make everyone in this bar believe that I've got a major thing for you," he told her. "And doing that will not be distasteful. I'd be lying if I told you I haven't spent the past weeks looking forward to this. Look-

  ing forward to it, and dreading it, all at the same time. You're a great kid, Zoe, and a beautiful woman and... And I'm sorry if I can't be as blase about any of this as you, and I'm sorry in advance if I somehow make you feel bad. Holding you, even dancing like this, hurts a little bit. But it feels good, too. Really good. Which in turns hurts a little bit more. Does that make any sense at all?"

  She nodded. "I'm sorry if I—"

  "Let's not apologize to each other anymore. We've got to do what we've got to do, right?"

  She lifted her chin. "/ think one of the things I've got to do is to get into the CRO compound."

  "Now, that idea is distasteful."

  "Jake, no, I've been thinking about it." She rested her head against his shoulder, and when she spoke, he could feel her breath against his throat. "The best way for me to help you find the Trip X is for me to be in there." She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Remember our deal? Remember what you promised?"

  "I didn't know what it would be like in there for a woman. Zoe, whatever you've heard about the CRO—"

  ' 'I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I agreed to be a part of your team. I can handle it."

  "But I'm the team leader, and I need you to try it my way first." And if his way didn't work... Jake wasn't sure how they'd handle the cameras in the bedroom. Maybe they could cover some, disable the others. Maybe they could pretend to make love, under the covers....

  He changed the subject, trying to banish the image of Zoe in his bed, her body soft beneath his.

  No. He refused to give up on the idea that they could find the Triple X and keep Zoe safely out of harm's way. And out of his bed.

  "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," he said. "Christopher tends toward delusions of grandeur, and he imagined this terrible altercation the moment I stepped outside of the CRO gate. I think he was a little disappointed

  when I made it all the way into town without being chased by federal agents."

  The song ended and they stopped for a moment, waiting for the next song to start. It had almost exactly the same slow, pulsating beat. He'd picked the songs well.

  As they began dancing again, she shifted her body even closer and rested her head against his shoulder. How could she fit so perfectly in his arms?

  "So how did you convince him to let you come to town?" she murmured.

  "Well, I, um, I thanked him for his hospitality and sanctuary, but I told him that I wouldn't be able to stay with him any longer unless I at least had the opportunity to, um..." He laughed, embarrassed: "Well, to, you know...."

  "Ah."

  "And since there are no single women in the CRO over age thirteen..."

  She lifted her head. "He didn't offer you one of his many wives?"

  "Are you kidding? The man's almost obsessively possessive."

  "Hmm. The sharing doesn't go both ways, huh?"

  "Sharing?"

  "Just more CRO unpleasantness. Women as chattel. You know, it's a good thing you made it into town today," Zoe interrupted herself. ' 'The team was starting to make plans to liberate you. You had us all worried."

  Jake swore softly. "Why can't they just sit tight and trust me?"

  "They care about you."

  "They think I'm too old."

  "You think you're too old."

  Jake pulled back slightly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

  Zoe shook her head. "Nothing. Look, Jake, I've been—"

  . The Admirals Bride

  "N
othing, my ass! You wouldn't've said it if it meant nothing."

  "Okay, it meant something, but it's a personal something, and if we've got limited time to talk here, the personal stuff should be the last thing we get to."

  He couldn't argue with that. Unfortunately it didn't make him wonder exactly what she'd meant any less. He thought he was too old. Jeez.

  "I've been thinking about alternatives to this whole setup," she said. She pulled him close, breathing into his ear as if her words were seductive promises rather than a plan for an alternative operation.

  God, he'd forgotten for a moment—he'd been standing there arguing with her. They were supposed to be just short of making out on the dance floor. He held her closer, and she moved toward him willingly, her breasts soft against him. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. Oh, God.

  "What's your take on the hierarchy of power inside the CRO?" she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. "I've always gotten the impression that Christopher Vincent's it. That without him, the organization would fall apart. And if that's the case, why don't we just grab Vincent on one of his trips outside of his compound? Hold him hostage in exchange for the Trip X?"

  "I've thought about that, too," Jake admitted. He kissed her neck, ran his hands down her back to cup her rear end. Oh, God. Bad mistake. But once his hands were there, it would've looked odd for him to move them right away, wouldn't it? What were they talking about? Hostage. Vincent. Right.

  "It's not an option," he told her, hoping she wouldn't notice the huskiness of his voice. He cleared his throat. "Vincent's got contingency plans for all kinds of disaster scenarios. Everyone in the CRO compound has a battle station to go to if the Feds suddenly launch an attack. He's stockpiled enough food to withstand a two-year siege. He's

  got an escape route charted out of this bar, in case he suddenly finds himself a target while he's here."