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Gunner (K19 Security Solutions Book 2) by Heather Slade (14)

14

Gunner loved the feel of Raketa’s naked body asleep next to his. That he could stroke her skin, kiss her, even penetrate her body whenever he wanted left him perpetually aroused.

When they came back to the house after their escapades under the waterfall, he couldn’t wait to get her back into bed.

“I’m hungry,” she’d pouted, making him relent long enough for them to have dinner. The dirty dishes, however, sat in his kitchen.

“Clean up can wait,” he’d said, pulling her into the bedroom.

When she shifted and turned her back to him, Gunner rolled to his side, nestled his front to her back, and wrapped his arm around her waist.

She muttered something indecipherable and appeared to go back to sleep.

In the morning, he’d talk to her about the conversation he and Razor had had on the flight back to the States.

“I don’t want to be put in the position of having to lie to Ava,” he’d told Gunner. “In fact, I won’t do it.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he’d responded.

“They’re half-sisters.”

Gunner knew what Razor was talking about and could even guess what he’d say next. Only moments later, he was proven right.

“They should meet.”

“It’s up to Raketa.”

Razor knew that Petrov had asked her to bring Ava and her twin, Aine, to him in Azerbaijan.

He couldn’t predict how she would feel about meeting the two women her father considered his daughters when he didn’t seem to feel the same way about her.

“Fair enough,” Razor had conceded after making Gunner promise to at least bring it up. “I won’t say anything to my wife until you’ve talked to Raketa.”

Was it Gunner’s imagination, or had Razor emphasized the word “wife,” as though what she might want was more important than what Raketa wanted?

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“I thought you were asleep.”

She laughed. “You’re holding me very tight, Gunner.”

He relaxed his arm. “Sorry.”

“Tell me why.”

“Feeling possessive, I guess.”

Raketa turned to face him. “Why?”

Gunner cupped her cheek with his hand. “Because you matter to me, Rocket Girl.”

“You matter to me too,” she said, bringing her soft lips to his. “Now tell me why your arm turned to iron.”

“Razor and I talked about you on the flight back.”

“That’s hardly news.”

“He wants to arrange a meeting between you, Ava, and Aine.”

“I see,” she said, her eyes hooding.

“I told him it had to be your decision.”

She nodded. “Why does he want this?”

“The main reason is that he doesn’t want to have to lie to her.”

“What do you think?”

“I told you. It’s up to you. It isn’t something I would’ve suggested, but I did promise him that I’d at least bring it up.”

Raketa turned again so her back was to him. “I’ll think about it,” she murmured.

Gunner moved her hair so it draped over her shoulder, and kissed his way across her back.

“I can’t think when you do that.”

“You can think tomorrow,” he said, positioning himself so he could enter her from behind.

“Are you ready for me, Rocket Girl?” he asked before he pushed inside.

She kissed the hand that rested on her arm. “I’m always ready for you, lyubimaya moya.”

As he joined his body with hers, he hoped she meant the words she’d uttered. There was nothing he wanted more than to be her “love.”

—:—

As the man she knew she was destined to be with from the day their eyes first met moved inside her, Raketa was overcome by emotion. She’d called him her love because that’s what he was. He was the only man who ever would be.

Earlier, under the waterfall, their sex had been frantic, impassioned, hard, and fast. Now, he moved slowly, gently cupping her aching breasts with his hands, and scattering kisses wherever his lips could reach.

Each time they were together was better than the time before. He set every inch of her body on fire with his touch, whether hurried or slow, hard or soft, gentle or rough. She never imagined all the ways he could bring her to the brink of pleasure and then catch her as her body spiraled into a feeling she’d never known existed.

In moments like these, Raketa pushed every lingering doubt out of her head and trusted him.

The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. She trusted him. Not just when they were intimate, but always.

“Gunner?” she asked, as he separated his body from hers after they’d both reached the pinnacle of pleasure.

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed between the kisses he continued to rain on her.

“I need you to look at me.”

His eyes opened wide and stared into hers.

“I trust you.”

He covered her mouth with his and kissed her with a passion closer to that of earlier, under the waterfall, than of their last lovemaking.

He stopped suddenly, his gaze so intense that she almost closed her eyes. She held her breath, waiting, wondering what he was struggling to say.

“Gunner?” she said again.

He brought both hands to the side of her face. “I love you, Zaryana. I know you don’t like me to call you that, but I can’t help myself. With me, that’s who you are. You aren’t the Rocket. You’re the woman I love.”

“My mother used to call me Zary,” she whispered.

“Can I call you Zary?”

She nodded.

“I love you, Zary.”

“I love you, Gunner.”

—:—

She was quiet the next morning as she watched him make breakfast. Every so often he’d walk over and kiss her. Each time she’d smile, but soon she’d be lost in thought over something that made her frown. He wondered if it was Razor’s request for her to meet Ava. He wished he could reassure her again that whether she did or not was entirely up to her. If that wasn’t what was on her mind though, he didn’t want to pile another worry on.

He set a plate in front of her that he’d heaped with a vegetable omelet, roasted potatoes, and toast.

“I can’t eat all of this,” she told him, looking apologetic.

He leaned down, kissed her, and smiled. “Whatever you don’t finish, I will.”

After breakfast he’d planned a vigorous workout—one they both needed not just for their bodies, but for their state of mind too.

“Who taught you to cook?” she asked between mouthfuls.

“My mother. She gave up on Odette, so I was her only hope.”

“Your sister doesn’t like to cook?”

“Remind you of anyone?” He winked.

When she stuck her tongue out at him, Gunner laughed out loud.

“I like your laugh,” she murmured.

“I like yours too.”

“I don’t laugh. I mean, I do, now, but not usually.”

Gunner nodded. “I’m the same way.”

“Do you ever wish we could just stay here forever?”

Her question stunned him. “All the time.”

“Me too. I can’t, though. Not until…”

“Does that mean you’ll want to come back?”

He couldn’t read the look in her eyes. Was she waiting for him to tell her she could, or that he wanted her to? “I’d love it if you’d stay here with me forever.”

“After.”

“I understand.”

Raketa didn’t bring up the conversation they’d had about meeting Ava at all that afternoon, so he didn’t either. When she was ready to talk about it, she would.

In the meantime, he was anxiously waiting for word from either Doc or Shiv. They needed to talk about what their plan of action would be once they did.

“We should get ready to leave the island.”

Raketa looked startled. “Have they found Petrov?”

“Not yet, but we should be ready to go at a moment’s notice. It’ll take time for us to arrange transport to Iran if your theory proves correct.”

“Do you want to leave now?”

“I don’t. I just want to make a plan.”

She bit her lower lip and looked away from him.

“Talk to me, Zary.”

She turned back and smiled at his use of the name. “Has Doc said anything about UR?”

Gunner shook his head. “Listen, you don’t have to go with me. I can have Monk come back, or…”

“She’s my mother.”

Gunner shifted closer to her on the sofa and put his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t read your mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

“I’m wondering who they’ll send.”

“Is there anyone you’re more concerned about than others?”

Raketa shrugged.

Knowing that anyone—from UR or Petrov—was on the hunt for Raketa filled him with a sense of dread unlike any he’d felt before. It drove home, in a very direct way, why getting involved with someone else in their line of work was a very bad idea. When it was personal, mistakes came by way of emotion. It occurred to him that Raketa knew this as well as anyone.

“Tell me what happened in Washington.”

“Why?”

“How was Topor able to get to you?”

“You know why. You don’t need me to say it.”

“You couldn’t pull the trigger.”

“It wasn’t because of Petrov.”

“I know. It was because he had Ava.”

Raketa nodded. “It’s only the second time in my life I didn’t fire when I should have. Wait, that’s wrong. I didn’t fire when I was supposed to.”

“I appreciate the differentiation.”

“I told myself I didn’t have a clean shot.”

He understood and suddenly wished he could force her to stay here, keep her out of harm’s way.

“Do you want to meet her?”

Raketa shook her head. “Too dangerous now. Wait until Petrov is dead.”

—:—

“No!” she screamed just as Petrov pulled the trigger and her mother’s body fell to the ground. As she charged at him, wanting to kill him with her bare hands, she felt a bullet strike her from behind. Topor shot her, and now she was dead too.

When she opened her eyes and tried to bolt upright, Gunner was leaning over her.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “You’re shaking.”

Raketa buried her face in his chest, wishing she could wipe the horrific images she’d dreamed from her memory. “He killed her.”

Gunner nodded. “We’re not going to let that happen.”

“And Topor killed me.”

“I’m not going to let that happen either.”

Raketa shuddered, fearing he might not be able to stop it, and praying she was wrong.

—:—

It was three days before Gunner heard from Doc, and then he had nothing new to report.

“He’s deep, wherever the hell he is,” Doc told him.

“There’s no intel at all?”

“Nothing. I’ve asked Merrigan to get in touch with Rivet to see if there is any other angle she could be working.”

“I thought Rivet was retiring.”

Sir Ranald “Rivet” Caird was a career British intelligence officer and chief of the Secret Intelligence Service. Doc’s wife had once been next in line for his job, but now rumor was that Shiver would be taking over when Riv decided to leave MI6.

“Honestly, I think that’s a long way off.”

“How’s Shiver feel about that?”

“Same as I would if I wasn’t ready for a desk job.”

That made sense. A man like Shiv would likely never be happy doing anything but work on the ground.

“Keep me posted, Doc.”

“You know it.”

“Anything?” Raketa asked.

Gunner hadn’t realized she was standing right behind him.

“No, but since when are you stealth-girl?”

“I’ve been watching you.”

“Yeah? Think you’ll best me?”

“Never, but I’d be happy with number three.”

“Not two?”

“You’re two.”

Gunner put his hand on his heart. “You wound me, woman.”

“We both know that you’ll never best Shiver.”

“That may be right, but you could at least humor me.”

Raketa tilted her head like she didn’t understand.

“You know, play along to make me feel better about myself.”

“I knew what you meant, Gunner.”

“So why do you look confused?”

“Not confused. Just thinking.”

He waited for her to go on.

“If you trained me, I might be able to get to Topor before he gets to me.”

“Your dream really rattled you. Why Topor specifically?”

“I don’t know. Just a feeling. Every time Petrov summoned me, he was the one to escort me to his office. Each time, I wondered if that would be when he’d kill me.”

Gunner understood. In their line of work, it was essential that they took any feeling, premonition, whatever one wanted to call it, seriously. “Let’s get to work, Rocket Girl.”

The island was the perfect place for Gunner to mentor Raketa in the same way Shiv had done for him. It offered a combination of wide-open spaces and concentrated forest. He worked her, day and night, to the point that they ended each session physically spent.

He pulled two troughs from one of his storage buildings, filled one with ice-cold water and the other with warm water.

“I know cold therapy is the rage right now, but I’ve been practicing contrast therapy for years. We’ll do one minute in cold followed by three in warm. We’ll repeat this four times,” he explained.

“Why?”

“Faster recovery. Reduction in tissue swelling. Decreased inflammation.”

Raketa studied him. “Is this really necessary?”

“When you’re as old as I am, you’ll need it.”

She shook her head. “I’m almost as old as you are now, and I don’t need it. Maybe you should consider my way is better.”

“What’s your way?”

“Sex. Followed by twenty minutes in your tub. We’ll repeat this four times. At least.”

“Yeah, your way sounds much better.”

“Better results too.”

—:—

“See? Much better,” Raketa said as she let her body rest against Gunner’s in the warm water.

He nuzzled her neck. “You taught me something.”

“No, you taught me this too. I have taught you nothing.”

“That isn’t true. I’ve learned a lot from you.”

“Give me one example.”

“I can give you more than one.”

She moved away from him and crossed her arms, waiting.

Gunner scrubbed his face with his hand. “This isn’t easy for me…” He grabbed her arm when she stood to get out of the tub. “Give me a sec here.”

Raketa sat on the edge and refolded her arms.

Gunner looked out the window, up at the ceiling, everywhere but at her.

“If you can’t—”

“I learned I could love someone, heart and soul, from you,” Gunner professed, standing in front of her in all his naked glory. “I also learned that I could smile and even laugh, without feeling like I was giving that soul away.”

Raketa slid back into the water, pulling him down with her, and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I learned that the mission doesn’t always come first and that there are things in life worth taking a step back for. I learned that I would do anything to keep you safe. Anything. Including walking away from the only thing I’ve ever known how to do.”

“Anything else?”

“Good Lord, woman. Can you not be sympathetic to how hard it is for me to say shit like this?”

Raketa laughed. “I’m sorry. I would have an equal struggle. I do, in fact.”

“Yeah? You have some mushy, flowery, girly stuff you want to say to me?”

She laughed again. “No. Not at all.”

“So what’s your struggle?”

“There have been…things I’ve told you that were not easy for me to say.”

“I never believed in shit like this.”

“You keep using that word. Why?”

“Shit?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know what else to call it. Stuff?”

“That’s better than shit.”

“As I was saying, I never believed in stuff like this.”

“Like what?”

“This kind of love.”

“That, I understand. I didn’t either.”

“I used to think it was a load of…nonsense. Then I watched it happen to men I believed felt the same way I did.”

“And you changed your mind?”

“Not exactly. You’re responsible for changing my mind.”

“What’s that?” she asked, hearing the same noise continually repeating.

Gunner jumped out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and rushed from the room.

Raketa got out too, wrapped herself in a robe, and went in search of Gunner. Where had he gone? She was right behind him. It was dark outside, with enough cloud cover that she couldn’t see. She didn’t hear him either, which didn’t mean much. He could be right behind her and she might not hear him.

—:—

“We have a code black,” said Kade when Gunner returned the phone calls he’d missed.

“Talk to me.”

“Sergei Orlov.”

“He’s dead.

“He’s not.”

“What?”

“Evidently United Russia wanted us to believe he was.”

Gunner wondered whether Raketa knew. If she did, wouldn’t she be more worried about him than Topor?

“Tell me why Orlov is a code black.”

“Shiv received intel that he’s headed in Merrigan’s direction.”

Jesus. Okay, Doc, What can I do?”

“Eighty-eight and I are at least twenty-four hours out, and I don’t want to ask Razor to leave Ava.”

“You don’t need to justify calling on me, Doc.”

“What’s Raketa’s ten-thirteen?”

“She’s safe here. Although I’d prefer some backup while I’m gone.”

“Done. I’ll make arrangements for Striker to head over with Mantis. He’ll fly you into BWA, and from there, Onyx will get you to the West Coast.”

“Roger that.”

“With no leads on Petrov, I’m making arrangements to head back tonight. I’m sorry to pull you over on this but…she and little Laird are my life.”

For the first time in his life, Gunner understood how Doc felt. He and Raketa weren’t very far along in their relationship, but he still knew it would devastate him if anything happened to her.

“I’ll see you in the morning. In the meantime, Merrigan will be safe with me.”

“Appreciate it, Gunner. No one other than you, me, and Eighty-eight know why you’re headed to Montecito. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Understood.”

“That includes Ivashov.”

“Roger that.” Gunner scrubbed his face with his hand, wondering how Raketa would take the news that he had to leave the island. Would she trust that he couldn’t tell her, or would she immediately think he was betraying her again?

“What’s happened?”

“There’s a situation unrelated to Petrov that I need to take care of. I’ll be gone less than forty-eight hours. Striker is on his way here.”

“Weren’t you talking to Doc just now?”

He nodded. “Again, the conversation had nothing to do with Petrov.”

She nodded, but he didn’t like the look in her eyes. He couldn’t ask her again to trust him. She was going to have to process through this on her own. Either she believed him or she didn’t, and until he got back from Montecito, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it except rest assured she’d be safe here on the island.

—:—

Raketa waited until she was certain Gunner had left the house and wasn’t coming back.

She’d played the dutiful lover and kissed him goodbye, even going as far as telling him to be careful.

She raced through the house gathering the bare minimum of what she needed, knowing she had very little time to get to the opposite side of the island, where the boat delivering Striker would land.

If Gunner thought she was stupid enough to believe that his phone call had nothing to do with Petrov or her mother, he was also stupid enough to think she wouldn’t have figured out how to get the hell off this island.

After her initial realization that she’d have no one to turn to for help if she had been able to convince Gunner to release her, it dawned on her that there was one place she could go after all—the Armenian embassy in Washington, DC. Once she walked through their doors, they’d not only give her asylum, they’d offer up whatever she wanted in exchange for her help getting Petrov. If Gunner thought he was going to get away with going after that evil piece of shit without her, he was about to learn otherwise. She had no intention of letting anyone else take him down. She’d do it herself after she made sure her mother was safe. She was the reason Raketa couldn’t trust Gunner or anyone else to handle this op without her.

They may think her mother was insignificant enough that if she died while they were after Petrov, it would only be collateral damage.

No one could understand that her mother was the only link Raketa had to her past, to who she really was under the armor she wore as an assassin for United Russia. If she lost her mother again, Raketa wasn’t sure her life would be worth living, especially since she now knew she’d never be able to trust Gunner Godet.

—:—

“What the fuck do you mean she’s not there? That’s impossible. Jesus, Striker, have you looked for her?”

“Screw you, Gunner. Listen to what I’m telling you—I’ve looked everywhere and there is no other human being on this island.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gunner wanted to rip his hair out. How had she managed to get off?

There was only one possibility and given how damn smart she was, he could only assume she figured out where the boat bringing Striker to the island would come in, and she’d gotten herself stowed away on it before it headed back to the mainland.

He counted back the time between the boat’s arrival and their plane’s departure. Add on another thirty minutes, at least, for Striker to determine she was gone, and they were close to ninety minutes.

Raketa had to be at least an hour away from where the boat docked in Deale.

There was only one place she could go for help, and while she’d admitted to him only a few days prior that she had nowhere, he’d bet she’d figured out the same thing he had.

“Who’ve you got near Dupont Circle?” he asked Striker.

“Who do you want?”

“Whoever can get to the Armenian Embassy in under fifteen minutes. Once she’s inside, we’ve lost her.”