Dangerously Entwined

by Sidney Bristol

  He lowered, cupping her face in both his hands, and stared into her eyes.

  All this time, had this feeling she’d seen when he was inside of her the truth? Was this how he felt about her every day?

  If it was, her hope wasn’t unfounded.

  Grant sealed his lips over hers and thrust hard enough she slid along the cushions a bit. He wrapped an arm around her waist, using that to anchor her in place as he glided in and out of her. Her nipples ached for relief so bad she slipped her hand under her shirt.

  “Are you touching yourself?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she hissed as he changed angles.

  “When this is done, I want to spend a week in bed naked.”

  Oh, that sounded good to her. Grant could be a very thorough lover given the time, which they did not have right now.

  Something rustled in the bushes and a shriek of laughter was cut off by a loud splash.

  Her body tensed up at the reminder that they were not alone.

  Grant groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. He thrust, harder this time.

  “Oh, yes,” she murmured.

  He lifted her hips off the cushions, their bodies joining harder now. Her breathing hitched as he hit a pleasure spot deep within her.

  They had a chance. That was all she could ask for.

  “Come on, Button,” he whispered in her ear. “I need you. I want you to come.”

  Melody’s body was attuned to him, his orders. She didn’t think he knew it, but she did.

  His hand closed roughly over her breast, his weight settling on her. His hips worked, rubbing that spot.

  The orgasm started in her toes. They curled. Her knees tried to bend, her legs moving restlessly. Her hips were under his command, but her spine, that bowed. She dug her nails into his bicep, tipped her chin back and groaned her release just as Grant’s body went tense.

  Too damn perfect.

  She pulled her hand from her bra and wrapped her arms around him and wished she could forget reality. This moment was so much better.

  It lasted about as long as it took for her to realize the beep followed by a squeak was someone opening the front door to the bungalow. Grant tensed, no doubt hearing the same thing.

  “Hello?” Orion called out.

  “Shit,” Grant muttered.

  He eased away from her, tucking himself away, the moment gone. Before she could fully right herself, Grant grabbed a towel off a stack of them stowed under the ottoman and wiped at her inner thigh and pussy. She hissed at the touch, not yet ready for it. He pressed a kiss to her thigh before tugging her clothes back into place.

  She watched him do all of this with a sense of wonder. Grant had always been attentive, but she’d taken it for manners, not a show of affection.

  Had she truly been blind this whole time to what he was trying to show her?

  She’d wanted words. He’d given her actions.

  They weren’t speaking the same language until now.

  “Anyone around?” Orion called out.

  “Yeah.” Grant tossed the towel into the bushes and stood.

  Melody reached for him, grabbing his hand. He glanced down at her.

  “I’m not interested in Orion. He’s not my type.”

  “What is your type?” Grant’s fingers curled around hers.

  “You.”

  THURSDAY. LIMAN’S HEADQUARTERS, Ibiza Town, Ibiza.

  Scene break.

  Next paragraph here.

  DAY. LOCATION, CITY, State.

  Liman was losing his patience. Fast.

  He stalked through the house. Blood still clung to his fingers and knuckles.

  The captives were no use. They didn’t have anything to say, and he was positive if they’d known something they would have told him.

  One of the nice things about developing drugs to make the human body work more efficient was that they also had the science in their pocket to manipulate the same bodies to other purposes. Heightened pain response, slipping reality. He could remake a man into whatever he wanted.

  “Update,” he barked.

  “I’ve established a map tracking their whereabouts,” Khaled said. The man sprang to action, gesturing at an enlarged map of the island with colorful dots at various points around Ibiza Town.

  This was all well and good, but it didn’t tell Liman anything without context.

  “When did we last see them?” he asked.

  His assistant hesitated. “Two hours.”

  “Two hours?” Liman turned to the three men who’d arrived a short while ago. “You let them get away, then you can’t find them?”

  He glared at each of them.

  “What? Nothing to say for yourselves? Did the latest batch of drugs fry your brains? Huh?”

  The three soldiers kept staring at him.

  They weren’t machines. They couldn’t be programmed. And they could only work with what they had. Just because they took Liman’s drugs that made them faster and more deadly didn’t make them infallible. No, only Elio had attained that level of mastery.

  Liman pulled out his gun, aimed and fired before any of the three could react.

  “I want results,” he bellowed. “Find them. Bring them to me, or I’ll replace you. All of you, understand?”

  8.

  Friday. Luxe Ibiza Hostel, Ibiza.

  Grant soaked up the silence. In this moment, just after dawn, when the world was still quiet he could almost believe the lie that everything was fine. Soon enough the bubble would burst. Reality would intrude, but he wanted to hold on to this moment.

  Melody’s fingers swiped across his skin, just under his collar bone, tracing the tattoo.

  “What does it mean?” she whispered.

  He was surprised she hadn’t asked sooner. Truth was, he felt kind of silly having a tattoo in the first place. He didn’t regret it though.

  “Laugh now, cry later,” he said, but it wasn’t his voice he heard.

  Grant breathed in the salty air, holding tight to the present.

  Melody kept quiet, waiting him out as if she knew this was something he had to come at slowly.

  “First deployment there was this guy, real loud personality. We didn’t much like each other in the beginning. Whenever someone would start complaining about pushing too hard or things getting too tough he’d say, laugh now, cry later. We got into some pretty bad scrapes, but somehow we always came through. He was the heart of our unit right up until he and half a dozen other guys got killed. There weren’t a lot of us left after. I forget who had the tattoo idea. I just went with it.”

  Melody propped her chin on her hand, looking down at him in the dim light. “Loss is tough.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He squeezed her a little tighter.

  Did she know she was their heart?

  A door opened and shut somewhere else in the house, signaling that it was time to start moving. He bent his head and kissed her brow.

  “I should get up,” he muttered.

  “Probably.” She gave him a squeeze then untangled their limbs.

  “Question?”

  “Yeah?” He sat on the edge of the bed, half-dressed, and waited for her to speak.

  She rolled onto her back, the sheets tucked under her arms and finally opened her eyes. “Will you be unhappy if I stop watching Land of the Fearful?”

  Grant just stared at her. Land of the Fearful was a cable show that had kicked off a year ago. It followed two undercover agents infiltrating a terrorist group with a mad plan to destroy the country. They’d unintentionally watched the first episode together and it had become their thing.

  “I thought you liked the show?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  Grant closed his eyes, took a deep breath and grabbed her hand. “You mean to tell me we’ve been recording and scheduling nights to hang out so we can watch a show neither of us like?”

  Silence.

  He stared down at Melody looking up at him.

  “You t
urned it on,” she said.

  “I turned the TV on.”

  “You said we should check it out.”

  “Yeah, maybe the first episode. Then you recorded the second one.”

  “Because you seemed like you liked the first one.” She sat up. “You laughed.”

  “At how bad it was.”

  “Oh my God,” she said slowly.

  Grant shook his head.

  They’d wasted a lot of time not saying what they thought or felt, waiting on the other to move first. Well, he was done with that.

  Voices in the hall signaled that their time was over.

  “Go.” Melody nudged him off the bed.

  “I’m going, but this isn’t over.”

  Grant grabbed his shirt and shoes. He parted the curtains and peered out onto the lawn but didn’t spy any movement. Never in his life had he snuck out of a girl’s room before, but here he was, on the worst job of his life doing exactly that. All while two of his men were being held prisoner.

  He quickly slipped back into his own room, changed into cargo pants, a white shirt and a blue button-down shirt courtesy of Orion. Maybe the guy wasn’t all bad, but Grant still didn’t like him.

  Grant finger combed his hair and checked his reflection in the mirror. There were no marks, no outward sign of last night, and yet he felt the change in him. Melody had stopped pushing him away. They weren’t officially back together, but they were more than they had been.

  When they got home and this trip was behind them, he was going to win her back. Totally and completely. Whatever it took. If he had to camp out on her doorstep and give her a running commentary on what he thought or felt, it was happening.

  But first, they had some guys to save.

  Time to start the day and end it with an ass kicking.

  Grant padded down the hallway into the kitchen. Vaughn was posted up on a barstool overlooking the kitchen while Nolan and Orion stood around the counter. All three of them were frowning at a plate full of little pink pills.

  “What are those?” Grant asked.

  Nolan glanced up. “Hey, TL. We were just looking at those pill bottles you and Melody took off those guys.”

  “Yeah? Any idea what they are?” Grant zeroed in on the carafe of coffee.

  “Not a fucking clue,” Orion said.

  “Bag it and we’ll let Zain figure it out.” The way Grant saw it, the pills weren’t a problem they had to figure out.

  Orion picked one up and frowned at it. “I see a lot of pills come through here, but I’ve never seen these.”

  Grant had to wonder if pills were on the menu of what Orion served his guests, but decided to abstain from asking a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. Some things were better left asked and unknown.

  Orion shrugged and put the pill down.

  Grant gave Vaughn a once over. He looked better than he had yesterday, that was for damn sure. “How you feeling?”

  “Human,” Vaughn replied. “I can hold a gun.”

  “No,” Grant said.

  “No way,” Nolan chimed in.

  Orion just laughed.

  Vaughn muttered in Spanish, likely calling them all sorts of names.

  “When are we heading out?” Orion asked.

  “We?” Grant lifted his brows, surprised by the question.

  Orion held up his hands. “I’m not part of this, but you’re going to need someone to drive the getaway vehicle.”

  Nolan pinned him with a look. “TL, are you sure want to do this with just you and Melody?”

  “I don’t need a baby sitter,” Vaughn said.

  Orion focused on Vaughn. “Maybe not, but what happens if you start bleeding again and no one’s around? If Nolan’s with them and I’m waiting with the car where does that leave you? I’ll bet you feel pretty good now with that pain pill in your system, but what happens when it wears off? What if these people track you down?”

  Grant kept his face as stoic as possible. He hadn’t expected an assist from Orion. Maybe he wasn’t a bad guy.

  “Morning.” Melody’s voice broke the tension in the room. She strolled in, wearing some kind of short-suit thing that was all one piece.

  He wanted to touch her. Reach for her. Kiss her. But they were back in their roles.

  For now.

  “What are we discussing?” she asked as she helped herself to coffee.

  “The plan,” Grant replied.

  “Oh?” She glanced at him. “Any changes?”

  “Nope.”

  “I brought you a few toys. Figured these might be useful.” Orion bent and grabbed a case off the ground and set it on the counter.

  Melody chuckled. “Presents first thing in the morning?”

  Jealousy nibbled at Grant, but he ignored it. Orion hadn’t taken Melody to bed last night. That was Grant’s privilege, and he intended to enjoy the hell out of it in the near future.

  FRIDAY. IBIZA TOWN, Ibiza.

  Melody wasn’t a fan of wigs. At best they were itchy and hot, especially with her long hair to contend with. She liked wearing one even less in the tropical heat. But necessity dictated that her appearance needed to be as far from what was expected as possible. So she’d donned the blonde wig with its chunky bangs, sunglasses and too bright lipstick.

  Spy craft wasn’t something she’d learned much about as a cop. Her specialty was in hostage negotiations. Once she’d achieved that level her time as a beat cop was over. But spy craft was a large part of their job and it was of the areas she was most intrigued by. Given that one of their chief operations officers was a former Mossad spy, Melody knew she was learning from the best. One of the rules she’d been taught was that the goal was never to just change clothes. If she went from wearing a dress to jeans and a T-shirt, she still looked like herself. The challenge was in changing roles. Shape. Take the expected and turn it around.

  For her that meant avoiding fitted clothing and straight hair. Anyone who’d been studying her would recognize that silhouette. The best tools to help her blend in were wigs, hats, glasses, oversized clothes. Anything that gave her a different shape turned her into someone else. Someone the Lebanese weren’t expecting.

  “Coming up on the house now,” she called back to Grant.

  Their hunters were looking for two to four people.

  They weren’t expecting one.

  Which was why Grant was hunched down, out of sight in the back of the SUV. One of Orion’s employees had allowed them to borrow the vehicle. The darkly tinted windows made it near impossible to see Grant from the outside. She hoped they were able to return the SUV in one piece.

  She blew out a breath, her gaze focused on the house a few blocks up. She knew it from all the pictures she’d looked at on-line. If Zain was right, Riley and Brenden were in there somewhere. The question was, were they dead or alive?

  In all the time she’d worked for Aegis Group, they’d done some pretty risky rescues in some very high-risk situations. This was the craziest rescue they’d ever attempted by far, and it had to work. There wasn’t room for failure.

  Melody eased her foot off the accelerator, dropping to just under the speed limit.

  The house was big, with a four-foot wall surrounding the property. Lush greenery and shrubs adored the lawn, enough to provide cover for a sneak approach. Trees shaded the front of the home, blocking several window’s view of the street. If Melody couldn’t see in, those people couldn’t see out. The house was painted a pale, creamy yellow color. It didn’t have the modern architecture vibe. No, it was an older property with a structure that echoed the styles she’d seen during their jaunt through the less tourist areas of town. Which meant that the materials used to build it weren’t steel beams. The windows were tall and arched to capture as much breeze as possible. If they broke one it would make for a decent entry point. The tile roof was shiny, new looking, and probably secure if they had to climb across it. Wrought-iron balconies ringed the second floor, sturdy to the point they might could cl
imb up on one if need be.

  Under different circumstances she imagined it was probably a nice place to stay.

  Today was not that day.

  At a glance she saw four guards. They weren’t holding their weapons, but from the way they stood watching the street, she knew they were armed.

  For every man she saw, she had to assume there were twice as many she didn’t. And those were just the ones keeping watch.

  How were they going to get Brenden and Riley out of there without causing a huge incident?

  There were homes around them.

  Whatever they did, it had to be done carefully.

  She turned at the corner, giving them a second look at the place, before heading off to their staging location. Orion had suggested they head for a vacation rental one block over. He knew the owner and had managed to get them the code. For now, it would serve as their base while they decided what course of action to take and a safe place to leave the SUV.

  The address they’d been given was for a corner condo. She pulled the SUV into the back alley and found a spot along the fence to park, then killed the engine.

  “Looks clear,” Grant said.

  Melody grabbed the bags from the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”

  Neither she nor Grant spoke as they got out, leaving the SUV locked with the keys inside.

  It was a tense dozen or so yard walk to the back door of the condo that let into a garage. Grant gestured for her to wait while he did a quick walk-through of the house, ensuring they were alone. Once she heard him give the all clear, she headed into the main room with its view of their target location.

  “I got pictures and we have an excellent view from the upstairs guest bedroom,” Grant announced as he came down the stairs.

  “Did you get a look at the balconies? That might be our best chance at entry. Maybe a window on the side of the house facing away from the street?” She set her gear down. “I only saw four guards. You?”

  Grant blinked at her a moment as if he were surprised she’d noticed such things. “Yeah, four.”

  “It’s safe to assume there’s at least four we aren’t seeing, so eight or twelve in total. Then again, if they have everyone out looking for us, there could only be four armed guards there.” She wagged her finger at him then shook her head.