CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nick frowned at the phone in his hand. The text message was coded in such a way that anyone looking at it wouldn’t understand. But he did. Zaran bin Yusuf was on his way to Ras al-Dura. No idea why, and no idea if Victoria was in danger.
But they had to stay put because to move would compromise the bigger mission, which was to learn Ian Black’s secrets. Echo Squad was near, watching the building and ready to launch into action. That made things better, but not perfect.
Nick glanced at Victoria who sat in the chair beside him, scanning the consulate with her binoculars. Hours had passed and the sun was setting. They wouldn’t turn on lights. Instead, they’d move closer to the windows, open one of them up, and start taking readings.
The life of a sniper was comprised of a lot of hurry-up-and-wait. They would rush to get to an objective, only to sit for hours sometimes, just waiting. Other times, the action was fast and furious and they worked until it was over and no more shots were fired.
This was one of the first types of jobs. Wait, wait, wait.
Not knowing the target made it frustrating, though Victoria didn’t seem to mind. She might be used to working this way, but he wasn’t.
“How did you decide to become a sniper?” he asked, realizing he didn’t know the answer at all.
She turned toward him for a second before scanning the building again. “I told you my grandfather taught me to shoot. I think he probably did it to shut me up because I kept asking to go hunting with him. Then I think he was pretty surprised that I was good at it. But he was proud of me.”
She paused. “I didn’t join the Army with the thought of becoming a sniper. I thought I’d get into computers or something else that would translate well to a job on the outside. But my shooting in Basic was so good that the instructors kept challenging me to do more. It just kind of happened after that.”
“And now you work for Ian Black.”
He could feel her stiffening beside him. “I needed the money. And I needed to be in Qu’rim. A girl’s gotta eat, Nick.”
“Yeah.”
She blew out a breath. “What about you? How did you end up here?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Like you, I was good at shooting. Did a lot of hunting as a kid and just seemed to have an affinity for making difficult shots. I joined the Army to get the hell out of the Ozarks.”
“And your sister?”
He hadn’t forgotten he’d told her about Shelly, but he was surprised she asked. “She’s in Charlotte, running a restaurant with her wife. They’re planning to have a baby in the next year.”
She pursed her lips. “How do they decide which one…? Um, never mind. That’s personal and none of my business.”
It was personal, but he understood the curiosity. “It’s a legitimate question. Jessica will be the birth mother. And I’m going to be the father.”
The silence stretched and he began to regret he’d said anything. He didn’t know why he’d wanted to share it with her, but he’d thought she might understand. Maybe she didn’t. Not everyone would.
“That’s amazing, Nick. Really amazing.” Her voice was soft, a little thick.
He felt warm and his throat tightened. “Yeah, well, it makes sense, right? The baby will have both their DNA this way. Jessica is an only child. Maybe if she’d had a brother, they’d have done it the other way.”
“You’re a good man to help your sister.”
Maybe so, but he couldn’t fathom how or why he’d refuse. When Shelly had asked, he’d gone to the sperm bank as soon as he could and donated. With his job the way it was, they’d decided that putting his sperm on ice was better than him having to show up at a particular time and place. “Nah, my part was pretty easy. A few girly magazines, some porn, and a cup. I’ll be the kid’s uncle, but I won’t be involved in raising him or her. Probably a good thing, considering.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, a note of disapproval in her tone, and he almost laughed. She was defending him from himself. It was sorta sweet.
“Nothing much, just that I’m not sure I’m parent material. I don’t have time right now—and I don’t know the first thing about kids.”
“I don’t either. But I think I’d like one someday, when my life isn’t so chaotic.”
“A picket fence and a house with a dog?” He hadn’t quite pictured her in that setting, but he could see it. After seeing her in that sweet dress a few days ago, he could definitely see it. Maybe even in an apron, baking some cookies…
No, wait. Just an apron. Bent over, ass bared, hands gripping a kitchen island…
Shit, not the image he needed in his head right now.
“Why not? And a cat too. A kid, a cat, a dog—and a man. That would be nice as well.”
He tried to picture this shadowy man—but it only annoyed him to try. He didn’t want some other guy touching her. Not when he hadn’t touched her yet.
Jesus, dude, get a grip on yourself.
“If that’s your thing, why not?”
She laughed. “You don’t want to settle down someday? Have kids and a wife, go to a normal job?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“I thought everyone thought about it at some point. The future, I mean.”
“I think about the future. I just don’t think about being a nine-to-five guy with kids.”
For him, family life was strict and defined. He’d grown up with such rigid expectations. And while he wasn’t his father, he wasn’t sure he had what it took to be a parent. His parents certainly hadn’t provided a great example, though from the outside everyone would have said they had the perfect family.
Appearances could be deceiving.
Victoria didn’t say anything else. The sun had slipped behind the horizon several minutes ago now. The lights of the city glowed against the desert sky. Across the street, the consulate’s windows shined with light. Behind the windows, people moved back and forth, talking and… rearranging furniture.
“Looks like they’re getting ready for something,” Victoria said, not lowering her binoculars. “Maybe a party.”
He scanned the people inside, searching for hints of what they were doing. Yep, here came a huge table. A party was most likely when their target would appear, assuming they weren’t the target.
“When did you last check in with Black?”
“A couple of hours ago. And no, still no information.”
It didn’t bode well for them that Black hadn’t given them a mark. “Does he usually make you wait this long?”
“It depends on the client. Some are very secretive. Others don’t care.”
That wasn’t exactly helpful. “The disadvantages of being a contract killer.”
“And there goes the civility.” Her tone was frosty.
Nick gritted his teeth. Yeah, he’d been the one to break the peace, but this situation pissed him off. She was in danger, and she didn’t even know it. Worse, she seemed to trust that Black wasn’t double-dealing with her.
“Bin Yusuf is coming.” He decided she needed to know the truth of that at least.
She grew still. “All right.” She sounded so calm when he knew she had to be somewhat rattled over the news. “And yet there’s not really anything we can do about it. Is there?”
It wasn’t a question so much as a statement daring him to contradict her. He wished he could.
“No. He might not be coming for us at all. He might be on his way to the consulate, or on Freedom Force business in the city.”
“But you think he’s coming for me.” It wasn’t a question.
He blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I have no fucking clue. It would be a terrible waste of resources for him to come for you—but if he’s convinced himself you have to die, then maybe he thinks it’s worth it.”
* * *
The apartment was quiet, but outside, the sound of cars on the streets reached into the darkness. There were other sounds too—animals, people shouting and talking, and the milling of a city as people left the mosques now that the Mahgrib was done.
Victoria was still reeling from the idea that bin Yusuf was coming, but then they didn’t know why he was coming. Nick was right that it wasn’t a good use of resources to come for her. But the asshole wasn’t precisely firing on all cylinders anyway—where was the logic in trying to kill her in Akhira, for instance? All he’d needed to do was deny her the chance to see Emily, but he’d specifically sent men to pick her up and dispose of her.
“We’ll have warning, I presume?”
“Yes,” Nick said.
She shrugged, though she didn’t feel quite as unconcerned as she pretended. “Then we’re safer here than we’d be on the road. And if bin Yusuf does come, then we’ll know where Ian’s loyalties lie, won’t we?”
She let her hand glide over the butt of her pistol and then looked down at the gleaming rifle lying on a blanket on the floor. He might come for her, but she wasn’t giving up without one hell of a fight. “Besides, we’re heavily armed. It’d be suicide to bust in here after us.”
Nick snorted. “Yeah, it definitely would.”
She picked up her scope and went over to slide the window back. Then she sighted across the distance to the consulate, looking in each window, thinking about the shot it would take to fire through every one of them. She didn’t know if there really was a target, but she’d act like there was until events proved differently.
It was all she knew how to do. If she let herself dwell on the topic—Zaran bin Yusuf, Ian, Emily—she’d want to scream. And that wasn’t what she did. She worked hard, stayed serious, and took care of business.
But at least this time she wasn’t alone.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” she said, not turning away from her task. And she was glad, because she knew she could trust Nick Brandon with her life. A man who cared enough about his own sister to cut ties with his family when they treated her poorly, who intended to give her a chance to be a mother to a child with her own DNA, was not a bad man to have at your back.
Even if you weren’t sure what his goals were.
“I’m glad too,” he said, and a little shudder rippled up her spine.
She heard him get up and cross the distance between them. Her entire body went on alert, hoping he’d touch her again. Just put a hand on her shoulder like he had before, or slide his arms around her body and tug her back against him so she could feel his strength and his warmth.
But he didn’t touch her, and disappointment rolled through her.
“Why don’t you go and get some sleep?”
His voice was a velvet rumble in her ear, and another shudder rippled over her. “I’m not tired.”
“Victoria, you have to sleep. We’ve been here since morning and you haven’t slept yet.”
“I’m fine.”
He made a sound that was a cross between a curse and a growl. And then his hands were on her shoulders and her body lit up like a flame as he turned her.
“You aren’t fine,” he said, his body a big blur in the darkness. “You’re operating on adrenaline and fear, even if you won’t admit to being scared of any damn thing, and you’re going to crash if you don’t get some rest.”
A strong urge to press her body against his swept through her. She trembled, unable to step away from him as she should. As she would have done only hours ago. Her resolve was crumbling, spurred on by exhaustion and that moment when he’d told her she was safe with him. What was it about that moment that had changed everything?
Until then, he’d been arrogant and cocky, and she’d been determined not to let him know how drawn to him she was in spite of how much he irritated her. But now her defenses were lowering, her determination cracking down the center.
His hands slipped down her arms and then fell away. She could feel the warmth coming from him, and the frustration.
“I’ll keep you safe, Victoria. Just go and lie down. If it works and you sleep, great. And if it doesn’t, you haven’t missed anything.”
“And who’ll keep you safe, Nick Brandon?” she whispered.
“You’ll get your turn to protect me, babe. Just not right now.”
She suddenly had to touch him, had to feel his mouth against hers one more time. He’d made her feel safe when he’d kissed her, and he’d chased every other thought from her head. She wanted that again. Wanted to concentrate on nothing but him, wanted the million thoughts and fears whirling through her head to disappear for a while.
She stepped into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down for a kiss. He stiffened with surprise—and then he dragged her closer with a groan, his mouth slanting over hers hungrily.
She opened her mouth and his tongue met hers, sliding and stroking and setting up an answering throb of heat in her belly. And lower. Her pussy ached with the need to have him, and yet she feared him too. To take that step—that ultimate step—here and now had to be insane.
But an animal part of her wanted it. Because she’d gone for so long—her entire life—without knowing what it felt like to make love to a man. What if bin Yusuf killed her before she ever experienced it?
It was an insane thought, because she’d spent the past two years putting her life on the line, but she suddenly couldn’t stand the idea any longer. She had to know what it felt like, what made women lose their minds over a man.
Nick’s hands went to her back, squeezed her shirt in his fists as if he were trying not to touch the rest of her.
“Touch me. Please touch me,” she said between kisses.
He did touch her, but not the way she expected. He swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, his mouth still on hers. And then he broke the kiss and carried her into the bedroom while she clung to him. She put her mouth on his throat, tasted the salt of his skin. She could feel his pulse throbbing hard, and a surge of power went through her to know she could affect him this way.
He lowered her to the bed and she clung to him, wanting him to stretch out on top of her and dominate her. To take charge of the situation and give her everything she’d been missing out on.
But he wasn’t lying down. He was trying to disentangle her hands from his neck, gripping her wrists gently and pulling.
“Victoria, sweetheart, you have to sleep.”
Sleep? Her brain struggled to catch up, to penetrate the sensual fog surrounding her ability to reason. She’d finally decided she wanted a man—and he wanted her to sleep?
Oh God, she was clinging to him like some kind of octopus, arching her body into his and trying to get him to strip her naked and make her forget everything for a while.
And he didn’t want to. Didn’t want her. No matter what he’d said the past few days, no matter that he’d teased her and kissed her and told her he wanted her—
He didn’t.
It hurt, more than she’d thought it would. She let him go and curled on her side, turning her face into the pillow to hide the stupid tears threatening to break free.
He touched her shoulder and she jerked. He didn’t pull away, however. He slid his fingers down her spine, over her ass, and along her hip. Then he stopped touching her altogether.
“I want you, Victoria. Believe me, I do. But not like this. Not when you’re overtired and your defenses are down. Ask me again when you’ve slept a few hours.”
She kept her face turned into the pillow. He stood, and she heard him moving across the room. The door shut softly, and she was alone.
Alone and mortified.