by Zoe Dawson
She pushed the covers off her, realized she was naked, and a full blush enveloped her. That black wispy thing hadn’t stayed on her long after they had gotten into bed.
Dex…damn. He was so freaking good in bed. She was actually a little sore. The man was rough, and she discovered that she liked it very much.
She went to the window and looked out. The pool was right off the bedroom. A small sunroom opened out to the pool deck. Dex was in the crystal blue water, streaking across her sight as he swam laps.
She pressed her hot face to the cool glass. Usually she spent her time after one of those nightmares trying to block out the memories, but now, she wanted to remember what had happened.
Had her husband been murdered? Had someone so callously, deliberately run them off the road?
She closed her eyes, her stomach churning. She’d woken to pitch-black, except for the one streetlamp that had illuminated her husband’s face. His open eyes. The blood running from his nose and ears.
A sudden sweep of dread made her whole body tense and she closed her eyes, feeling sick and shaky.
She’d screamed then, the sound reverberating in her ears. She pressed harder against the glass, trying to remember how the car had been hit. What had happened?
It was no use. It was just a bunch of jumbled memories—trapped in the car for hours, someone finally coming, firefighters prying open the doors, being barely conscious, the only sensation blood and fluid sliding down her leg. During the ride in the ambulance, her questions about Brad went unanswered, then the hospital, the loss of her child confirmed, the news about her husband.
Her throat tight, tears slipped down her cheeks, but she brushed them away and took a deep breath. She went to the closet and found a silk turquoise robe. Shrugging into it, she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the heat and humidity of a Washington, DC, summer.
Clammy and cold, she stood there for a minute, soaking up the warmth. She hadn’t thought that was possible after the heat, sand and sweat of Afghanistan.
He barely made a ripple; he was all tanned, sleek skin and muscles slicing through the water.
He stopped when he hit the end of the pool and flashed her a grin. She walked to the lip. Looking up at her, he said, “You wanna learn how to swim, cutie?”
She shook her head.
“Ah, come on. The water is really refreshing.” He reached up and tugged on the end of the robe.
She arched a brow and gave him a dry look. “So is coffee.”
He chuckled. “I’ll teach you how to blow bubbles and dog paddle.” He clasped her around the ankle, and even with all the weight of her past and the danger of her present, she huffed out a laugh and said firmly, “Don’t you dare. Remember, I know how to handle a weapon.”
His voice dropped an octave, and he said, “Yeah, I’ve experienced that firsthand.”
The man was definitely a sexy tease.
She crouched down, placing her hand on his forehead, and shoved him back into the water. “Go soak your head.”
“You want to be specific about that?” He treaded water like a dolphin. Or was that more like a killer whale?
“You’re a very bad man.” She leaned over and used the heel of her palm to splash water at him. He dove like a fish and came up laughing. Then he turned his powerful body and cut through the water again. He sure had been right. The man knew how to swim.
Leaving him to his exercise, she headed to the sliding glass door and the kitchen. Still feeling strung out, she started the coffee. She didn’t even want to know what she looked like. She had to pull herself together and talk about the past. It was now overshadowing her future, one she wouldn’t have if she didn’t figure out who wanted her dead.
That car accident was the key.
Forcing herself to take a calming breath, she went to the fridge and was delighted to see that Dex had been shopping. She reached for a grapefruit and sliced it in half.
The door opened and Dex came in, the still dark stitches running down his left side. He was dry, except for his hair, which he was rubbing with a towel around his shoulders. From the delicious scent of him, he’d obviously showered and changed into the gray shorts.
He glanced at her, his expression going still. Without saying anything more, he studied her a moment longer, his gaze narrowing, but if he read something in her face, he left it alone. His tone was noncommittal. “Good morning, babe.”
She gave him a warm smile. The soft way he said babe curled into a glow in her stomach. She could so get used to domestic life with this man. But this would only be fleeting and in between deployments. She was kidding herself if she thought she could handle that.
“You’re up early.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“You had another nightmare?” he said as he came to her and wrapped her in his arms. He smelled heavenly, of citrus and cinnamon. This was what she needed. She leaned into his warmth. She had to get a grip, or she’d never make it through the day.
He let her go and she grabbed her half of a grapefruit and coffee and settled at the island. Dex poured himself some coffee, then leaned back against the counter to drink it.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes and no,” she admitted, and he came over to the counter. He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear.
She would have thought she’d be over how he affected her. But her heart skipped a beat, her pulse ramping up. She suddenly felt as if she had too much blood in her body. Too much heat. Too heavy a response. She worked at bringing her body under control. Dex had ramped her up from a low-keyed woman to this responsive fireball, all in five days. This had all started out as a simple mission—Dex rescuing her—but all of a sudden, it had gone way beyond that.
“I don’t remember much.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you remember?” He caressed her forearm. Dex was mixing it up and it was hard to deny he had a steadying, calming influence on her now.
He was always so in control, so certain of himself and his abilities. It wasn’t arrogance so much as assuredness. And that was powerful stuff for her at the moment. It was hard not to be tempted to lean some more on him. Just a tiny moment more. He was sturdy and strong.
She’d better get the stars out of her eyes and keep her two feet planted squarely on Planet Earth.
She told him the bits and pieces she remembered.
“The police investigated the accident, correct?”
“Yes, and came to the conclusion that Brad just lost control. I checked with them several times.”
“I know that you weren’t thinking this back then, but now that you’ve had some distance and the fact that Tyler was targeted after he hired the PI to look into the accident, do you think someone could have wanted Brad out of the picture enough to kill him?”
That had her looking up. “I—I don’t know. I can’t think of anything that would be damaging enough to want him dead. He was a senator, for God’s sake, not a SEAL.”
“People kill for a variety of reasons, Piper.”
She shivered. In all the times she’d relived that night, over and over again, awake and in endless nightmares, she’d never once contemplated that possibility.
“Honestly, no. I didn’t think he was murdered. If I had, I would have pushed much harder to find the person. But now I believe you’re right. It can’t be a coincidence that both Tyler and I were marked for death right after he started snooping around. When they find us, they’re going to kill us.”
He reached out and put his hand on her arm. “Not while I’m still breathing. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She held his gaze a bit longer, then finally sighed. “I’m lucky you were there.”
“I don’t know, Bulldozer. You handled that pretty well. Fought like a wildcat and put a slug into him. That’s pretty badass.”
She rolled her eyes. “That would turn you on.” She huddled in her seat. “Okay. What’s our next step?” She wasn�
�t used to this, used to someone else having any say in how things were going to be handled. She ran almost everything for Brad and handled all the details—his campaign, his office, his life.
“Come here,” he said, reaching over and tugging on her arm.
“What?”
“You’re too far away. This can’t be easy for you,” he said, pulling her off the stool and into his arms, so her back rested against his chest. “Much better.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know this is scary and we don’t know who’s trying to kill you, but we’re going to get out of this.”
Brad was a good husband and they had a good life, but he’d never been this in tune with her needs. She wasn’t used to a man recognizing how she was feeling and putting it out there. Being in a political family came with certain requirements. Never do anything you wouldn’t want posted on the internet, never show the public any negative emotions and always be professional.
This was so new to her—unburdening herself, trying to reconcile having someone else in the loop instead of being this self-contained, have-it-together senator’s wife, and now a senator herself. This overload of sensations with him holding her, caring about her… “I could get used to this,” she murmured, leaning against him.
“Me, too,” he said, tipping her head back, so their gazes could meet. “Let’s get breakfast and get ourselves something to wear, then we’ll contact this PI, Doug Utley, and see where he’s at. Sound good?”
She trembled a little, wanting to be strong enough to step away from him and handle letting Brad go on her own. You know…because she’d been doing such a good job up to now. She’d never really dealt with moving on and it was not surprising that she had been marking time for eighteen months. What had she been waiting for? What? For it to get better, for the pain to recede, to finish out Brad’s wishes? Dex was opening her eyes to the fact that having someone to lean on didn’t just mean physical support, but it meant emotional support, too. She turned in his arms and looped hers around his shoulders. “It does sound good and I am eating breakfast.”
He frowned and glanced at the grapefruit on her plate. He shook his head. “That’s not breakfast,” he scoffed. “That’s juice. Let me show you what a real breakfast is.”
“Mmm-hmm. I’m sure this is going to add weight to my already generous hips, thighs and butt.”
“That’s easy to fix,” he said, slapping her butt as she turned.
She gave him a narrowed-eyed look. “I know you’re not saying I’m fat.”
He held up his hands and stepped back. “Do I look like I have a death wish?”
“You have a point, Lieutenant?”
“Yeah, Senator. You know what’s good for burning calories?”
“Swimming?” she said acerbically.
He laughed and headed for the fridge and started to pull out bacon, eggs and butter. He gave her a very wicked grin. “Oh, that would have been my second choice.”
“You are a bad man.”
Marriott Hotel, Pentagon City, Arlington, Virginia
“I freaking hate DC,” Austin said as he slammed the car door in the parking deck of the Marriott. “We got nothing out of nobody. Admiral Kaczewski stonewalled us. I think he knows where his son is. And Piper’s brother, more of the same.”
“Man, you need some sleep. I’ve never seen you so cranky.”
“I need some exercise,” Austin snapped. “I’m used to surfing every day.”
“Yeah, apparently you need that Zen bullshit to calm the hell down.”
“You might have ice water in your veins, Derrick, but I don’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Derrick growled. He hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Austin and apparently his fuse was also a bit short.
“Are we going to talk about what happened in Afghanistan?”
“Nothing happened in Afghanistan.”
“Derrick—”
He exploded into action, slamming Austin back against their vehicle, his forearm across Austin’s throat. “I’m going to cut you some slack because we’ve been grinding this case for five days straight, but don’t ask me about Afghanistan. Ever,” he said through clenched teeth. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, so intensely that Austin broke the chokehold and pushed Derrick back.
Derrick looked at him and shook his head. “You’ve got some moves.”
“I am a Marine, Gunn. I know how to handle myself. You might not have any respect for me, but I served, college on the GI Bill, computer counterintelligence at the Pentagon, graduate study at Cornell.”
Derrick looked away. “I never said I didn’t have respect for you, Austin.”
“All right, fine. I’ll mind my own business, but you need to get that shit out of your head and reconcile with it before it eats you alive.”
“Okay, buddy. I’ll do that if you tell me about that picture of the wife of the ambassador to Ja’arbah, a small country in the Middle East, you have tucked away in your desk drawer. Why don’t you tell me about the three days you two spent together in a life-and-death struggle? Why your engagement ended?”
That’s what happened when you poked a rattlesnake. You got bit and bit good. Austin shifted and took a breath.
“Yeah. Right. When I want life advice, I’ll ask my guru. Now instead of talking about crap neither one of us really wants to talk about, why don’t you haul your ass into some running gear, and we’ll blow off steam. Run the Mount Vernon Trail? Then the both of us are going to get some sleep. When we wake up, and after we get coffee and a doughnut, you can put your freaking Cornell degree to work tracking down something we can use.”
Derrick walked away and Austin allowed himself to think of Jessica Webb for one hot second. As a Marine he was duty–bound to protect the ambassador and his family. His memory of those days should make him break out in a cold sweat. But instead, it wasn’t the danger and the combat or the struggle he remembered. It was soft skin and warm blue eyes, tousled short black hair and a voice like an angel that haunted his dreams.
He pushed off the car, compartmentalizing the memory back into a lockbox he kept closed. Derrick was right. Austin’s curiosity had gotten the best of him. Derrick’s personal life was none of his business.
They had a job to do and Austin’s gut told him Kaczewski and Jones were in way, way over their heads. There was something going on with this case and he was going to push until he found out who had orchestrated an attack on their Marines and Navy SEALs. Who was gunning for Piper Jones and her brother?
The perpetrator didn’t need to watch his back, because Austin was coming right at him, a full-force frontal attack.
Suburbs of Washington, DC
“All this stuff is so not my style,” Piper said as she set the bags on the bed. “I’m used to suits and dresses and high heels, not cute tops, leggings, jeans, shorts and capris.”
“I think you look beautiful in anything and―” his voice dropped to a heated tone “―nothing. Clothes don’t define you, Piper. Wasn’t it you who wore a burka, then dressed as a man and slipped into Charikar right under their noses? Clothes are just covering for one awesome woman. So, we need to fly under the radar, and you need to change how you dress.”
“You look pretty comfortable in anything.”
He flashed her a grin. “And you can pass for a college kid.”
They had tried to reach Doug Utley several times, but he hadn’t answered. Night was falling and Piper wanted to take the next step. Feeling jittery, she knew she was safe here. Dex had taken every precaution, but it still felt like someone was breathing down her neck.
“Let’s give Mr. Utley another call,” she suggested as she dumped everything onto the bed. She had a great wardrobe in her Georgetown town house not far from here.
Dex pulled out the phone and dialed. “Mr. Utley,” he said. “We need to talk to you about the investigation you’re conducting for Tyler Prescott.” He listened for a few moments. “I’m working for his sister.” He listened and
his eyes flicked to her. “We’d be interested in what you found. Petty Officer Prescott is…” He trailed off. “I see. Yes, we could be there in half an hour. See you then.”
He ended the call. “He heard about you in the news and he said he wanted to talk to you. He’s been trying to reach Ty, but of course the ambush information has been kept out of the media. He says he found something and can meet us at a coffee shop across from the Pentagon.”
They exited the subway at Pentagon City, Dex suggesting that they could duck into any of the many stations nearby. They were to meet up at the Lincoln Memorial if they got separated.
“I guess you know this city,” Dex said.
“Born and raised, and my family loved Washington. It is our lifeblood. So yes, I know this city like the back of my hand.”
Dex was subtle about it, but she noticed how he kept his surroundings under constant scrutiny and monitored everyone around them.
“We can go scope out the street and coffee shop before we commit ourselves to anything that looks sketchy.”
“Good thinking.”
Piper settled the ball cap on her head, pulling her hair through. She was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a cute gray T-shirt with black lettering that said Wake Up. Kick Ass. Repeat.
The street was crowded with people going in and out of the busy mall. Everything was lit up.
“I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t know this city that well, except for areas around the Pentagon and Arlington Cemetery. Too much of Arlington Cemetery,” he said with a sad cast to his voice. “And I’ve been to the White House a couple of times.”
“You toss that out like it’s an everyday occurrence to meet the president, when I know it’s not. Medals, right?”
He turned to look at her as they approached the coffee shop.
“Yeah…medals.” He changed the subject. “If I were ever to be a politician, I don’t know how I’d like living here.”
“You could never be a politician,” she said. “You can’t twist the truth to save your life.”
He chuckled as they hit the plaza. “He did say Coffee Now,” she murmured.
