He didn’t respond, and she had no idea what was going to happen here, but everything was now in the open and the ball was in his court.

Her gaze slid over him. Six feet, five inches of raw power and testosterone roped with muscle and seductive danger, but what she needed wasn’t as much the physical, although she wanted that, it was him, the core of Rion. He was a force to be reckoned with, a force of destruction when he decided on it and a force of seductive power.

She let her gaze run back over the length of him and hardened herself against the easy way, against her own weakness—her betrayal?

This really wasn’t the time for this when an important mission vital to the security of the United States needed their complete attention. But they’d already waited too long. Sure, they had a job to do, and he was an integral part of it. They couldn’t fail. Too much rode on their success. No more deaths due to a breach in their own security and a perfect storm of errors was their ideal.

She had handled this just as she’d handled her heart and mind over the past five years, compartmentalizing her emotions. But that was no longer going to work. It was time to open up the old wounds and clean them out, get everything out in the open and stop with the fear, anger, and frustration that had ruled her for so long.

If she crossed professional lines, there were going to be repercussions. Big ones. Life-altering ones, career-altering ones, heart-altering ones.

He was so still, even in motion. She loved his stillness, the calm ease with which he moved and thought, and there was always something going on in that beautiful mind.

Her gaze went back to his face, to the brutal calmness of him even in his pissed off stance.

Often, she felt lost in the forest.

And, it seemed, she couldn’t get out of the woods, even as she remembered how tough and unforgiving she’d been afterward, after Phoenix’s death.

As his mouth had moved over hers only moments ago, flexibility and softness flowed down through her veins. Her body belonged to him, even as she made it strong with everything she could, and Wicked had taught her how to breathe.

It was a good thing he had. He reacted to the look on her face. That impulse to touch him overwhelmed her, and her muscles tensed at his guarded look, always so damned tough.

“Don’t.” Her voice was firm but soft at the same time. “Don’t do what you’ve always done—detach. You have to tell me how you feel about all this. I don’t know, and it’s killing me.”

He was beautiful, exquisitely so. His dark hair shot through with honey highlights was uncharacteristically disheveled. She remembered the softness, the relief of touching him. His shadowed face only intensified the shadows in his eyes—dark and tortured, lost and falling. He’d been so hurt, devastated by Phoenix’s death, and her bitterness and hatred that had colored her for too many years. And his pain hurt her with a poignancy that she had always felt down to her bones. There was no denying it anymore.

Regardless of all the pain, animosity, hostility and hatred she’d generated over the years, she wanted him, and it was time to stop fighting it.

He moved with a cat-like grace as if he was stalking her like a predator. When he got close, she felt her mind go unfocused. He didn’t stop, and it forced her to back up as if she were facing a moving freight train. He kept coming, unrelenting until her back hit the wall.

Damn that man’s mouth, his sensual lips, begging to be kissed. She closed the gap and kissed him again, wanting to channel that anger into sweet aggression.

He made a distressed sound, his breathless groan telling her loud and clear of his struggle.

His mouth came down on hers, and she got her answer. He didn’t blame her, and her heart just completely melted from the heat of their kiss. She was sure in that moment their hearts just met and fused together until they were as one.

He went to pull away and frantic, she hooked her foot around his ankle and pulled, expecting him to go down. But this man was just too good for that. She should have realized it wouldn’t be easy. She’d sparred with him enough to know.

He anticipated that move, and instead of him letting go and falling, he regained his balance. But she hooked her arms around him and took him down with her. Now he was on top of her just where she wanted him.

“Dammit, Kat. You’re driving me crazy.”

“Please, Rion. Tell me. Even if it hurts me. Stop being chivalrous. It’s the only way to work this out.”

“You can’t imagine what it must be like to want the woman your brother has. It feels petty, god-awful, a downright betrayal. That was me. Every day since he brought you home. Every damn day I wrestled with myself. I knew every argument, every doubt, every freaking need to get to you somehow. But you didn’t belong to me. It wasn’t my right.” He closed his eyes, his features contorting in pain. “I win by default, and we never have to own up to him ever because he’s gone. Somehow that feels wrong, and I don’t know how to make it right, Kat.”

“Maybe we could start by entertaining the idea of forgiveness?”

His face ashen and carved by strain, his eyes shadowed by some emotion she could only guess at, he dragged his hand across his eyes, then inhaled raggedly. “Forgiveness. There hasn’t been any in my life since Phoenix died, not from you or from Susan. My dad avoids talking about it, and I won’t talk to Selene about it. What’s the point? He died, and I couldn’t help him or save him. That’s on me.”

She grasped his face between her palms. “No, it’s not! You’re missing what we both have been missing for five years. This was out of our control. We couldn’t have done anything differently.”

He looked away, the muscles of his throat convulsing, and she nearly broke down. Her desolation stripping her bare, she made one last request. “Tell me what you want to do now,” she said breathlessly, knowing he could make the decision to let the past dictate their future. But she would honor it. She owed that to Wicked, to Phoenix. and his family.

“Ah, God, Kat, don’t cry,” he whispered, brushing at her tears. “Do you forgive me, Kat?”

She took a heavy breath. “Yes, with all my heart. Do you forgive me?”

“Unconditionally.”

Catching him by the back of the head, Kat closed her eyes and hung on to him, unable to hold back any longer. Deep sobs made her throat ache, and Wicked crushed her to him, his fingers tangling in her hair. “It’s okay, babe,” he choked out. “It’s okay.”

Kat tightened her hold, and it was as if he sensed her need. With a hoarse sound, he shifted her head back and found her mouth, his fierce kiss tasting of tears and pain and guilt-ridden desperation. And for Kat, there was a taste of fury, like the fury that had held him only moments before. Something just as raw, just as consuming, something that was connected to the parts that he’d had to withhold from her. And, damn, she wanted those parts. She wanted everything.

She lifted her body and pressed her mouth to his.

He beat her to it, his arms around her, his mouth colliding with hers, and Kat felt the hot explosion inside her; her skin tightened on her bones. His mouth slid wondrously over hers, and she gripped his big shoulders, felt him bend her slightly back and mesh his hips to hers. Oh God, this was a passionate and tender kiss, she thought. Nothing like anyone in her past. Nothing.

He was huge and muscular, and for a guy who pulled a trigger easily, she felt almost fragile in his arms, his kiss ferocious. Deepening the kiss and savoring the hard feel of his erection, she swept her fingers up his chest and moaned a plea for more.

And Wicked gave it. Like a moment of insanity, he broadcast his need for more, his mouth trailing her throat, then back to her tingling lips. God, he tasted good, felt so good. It sent a bolt of electricity down her body, settling low in her belly.

She was finally doing what she had dreamed of in the most secret parts of her mind and heart.

Forgiveness. It was all they needed, and it would begin to heal them.

She was ready for his pure, male contact.

The naked, hard, and ready kind.

Wicked took what she offered.

Raw emotions he’d denied for so long swamped him. Guilt, shame, despair, and love all mixed up inside him, needing to be sorted, but he was clumsy with emotions. He’d probably do something stupid to mess this up. He was trapped by loving the woman who had once been pledged to his dead brother. Loving Katherine Harrington had taken him places he hadn’t expected to go. Where he was now…topped the list.

She was an experience—something from the tightly guarded places he rarely visited. Her kiss alone twisted a rope around him, tying him tight. In knots. He didn’t know if he wanted to keep her as close as possible or turn in the other direction to preserve his own sanity.

He pushed up her shirt and kissed her ribs, crushing back the need to bury himself inside her quickly and appease this wild hunger for her. But it wouldn’t matter. She was more than under his skin. She was inside it. And when her hand closed around him, she took him with her—away from danger and isolation, from ignoring everything for the mission.

Since they’d met, she made him indulge in feelings and sensations. Trapped with her, he gave his desire, his emotions freedom. She stroked him heavily, her magic hand working him into a frenzy that threatened his control.

Wicked gritted his teeth, then grasped her wrist. “Hold on, babe. I’m pretty sure if you keep that up, there will be a quick end to this mission we’re on.”

His gaze went over Kat. She was drop-dead gorgeous—deep green eyes, a color that seemed too vibrant to be real, high cheekbones, and a full, tantalizing mouth—and there wasn’t a man who saw her who didn’t respond to that beauty, to her cool-girl looks. She was strong and sleek, her body perfectly formed, her hair a deep, rich shade of auburn that waved down over her shoulders to the middle of her back. She was tough, SEAL tough when she had to be, and she never stopped when she had to keep going. She was good at what she did whether the terrain was tropical, temperate, flat-out desert, or urban, and she could keep up with his alpha team without breaking a sweat.

“At least I’m not the only one going crazy here.”

“That’s a copy, wild Kat.” His mouth brushed her lips. “We’re finally alone with absolutely no interruptions or knuckleheads looking over our shoulders. I’m having my way with you.”

She bit her lip. “We still have to talk.”

“We’ll table that for now. Yeah?”

She sighed, and her breath told him she melted even more. “Affirmative.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling off her shirt. The urge to hurry battered at him.

His gaze slipped over her plump breasts, sliding over her roundness, and then he leaned down, kissing the top of her breasts. The motion ground her warm center to his dick, and she thrust back as he licked and scored his teeth over the soft underside. He held her gaze as he ran his finger inside the edge of her bra cup, then pulled it down. He closed him mouth over her erect nipple. She gasped, watching him taste her, and it drove his desire over the top. He wished they were in a soft bed with hours of time.

“You’re wearing too much,” he murmured as she destroyed his composure just by existing. He pushed his face into her neck as he worked her jeans open, his hand dipping inside to cup and rub. She wouldn’t be still, squirming to get the rest of her garments off. She practically tore at his pants and, naked, he stuffed them beneath her, their clothes a cushion as he licked slow heavy circles around her nipple.

“Wicked.” Kat was breathless, her body coming alive beneath him, her hand roaming over his shoulders. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered. She wrapped her hand around him, slid her fingers over the moist tip, and arched her body when he groaned and drew in air through his clenched teeth.

“Dammit,” he growled and clasped her hands above her head. “No wonder you are a menace. Always pushing the envelope.”

Her smile was bone-melting, but boner-enhancing, and he swept his palm from her throat to hip, molding her flesh, his gaze lingering over her, naked and shameless for him. Her eyes held the awareness of her power, her shape, lean and toned, wrapping him in her scent and sensation.

Wicked felt privileged, the years of animosity and her denial dissolving, his bond in his duty for his country magnified as she touched his face, slid her thumb over his lips. It was a simple thing, and he wanted more of it, to connect deeply with her and seal this connection tighter.

His hand rested on her belly, then slid softly between her thighs. He nudged them apart, leaving a damp trail of kisses down her throat as he parted her, loving her quick breaths, yet he taunted, slowly drawing a line up her center, circling the tiny bead of her sex. Then he found her, slick and hot, and he slid a finger inside without stopping and loved that she lost her breath. She chanted his name, telling him how she felt, what he did to her, and it was his turn to lose it.

He withdrew and plunged, and her hips caught the motion, and on his side, Wicked devoured every degree of her pleasure. He wanted her mindless like him.

“Wicked, come here,” she demanded, spreading beneath him. “I need something more.”

But he wouldn’t go, watching her twist as he dipped and stroked. Then he introduced another finger and she cupped his face, devouring his mouth with a lush erotic heat, thrusting into his palm.

She threw her leg over his hip. “I really want my way.”

“With me,” he said wickedly.

She didn’t answer, just showed him, stroking the tip of him against her center.

“Fast wasn’t what I had in mind. Slow and dirty…now we’re talking.”

“Next time,” she whispered, and he almost came at the thought of doing this all over again.

His gaze snapped to hers. She thrust her hips enough to put him inside her a bit, and he grunted and cursed, then nudged her thighs wider and slid between. He held himself poised, and a million thoughts ran through his mind, nothing sticking long enough to make sense. He felt untethered, free, his need beyond passion, beyond even his formidable control.

There was no comparison where Kat was concerned. She let go of her power and gave it to him.

Kat stared up at him. She’d never expected to see this man humbled to anything. Yet he was, in his eyes, his expression as if he was undeserving, and her throat strained. She had a part in making him feel that way. For the world, the enemy, they saw strength and deadly skill. Kat now saw need and an unguarded man. She guided him, loving the exquisite pleasure, his gaze trapped with hers, and they prolonged it, her hips rising to his. He sank into her, helpless and trembling.

“Damn, I don’t have a—"

“I’m on the pill.” She kissed his neck, then whispered, “I blamed you even when I wanted you.”

“And now?” he growled.

“I still want you, but I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven myself.”

“All in good time. The only easy day was yesterday.”

She moved, and he groaned.

“You have no idea what this is doing to me, Kat.”

His breath shuddered, almost gasping, and Kat was so moved by his words, she felt her eyes burn. “It’s as clear as day,” she said, brushing her fingers across his hair, falling down the side of his face. Gently she laid her mouth over his, licking the line of his lips, slowly, before sliding her tongue between and trying to make him crazy all over again.

“You’re a devil woman,” he moaned against her mouth.

“I prefer Wicked.” She pushed on his shoulders and he obliged her by scooping under her bottom until she was seated on his lap, forcing him deeper, never breaking contact.

She straddled his broad thighs, her mouth rolled over his, down his throat, and her tongue snaked to lick his nipple. His grip on her hips tightened as she suckled, and he let his head drop back and savored it till he needed that mouth on his again. He took it, cradling her face and savaging her soft lips till she was gasping and wild on him.

“That’s so fucking good, babe. You enjoy it.”

“I’m enjoying every damn thing.”

He gripped her hips, his body nail hard and sliding deeply. Her delicate flesh clasped him in a tight fist, her strong rocking driving him to his orgasm.

“Oh, Orion…Wicked,” she gasped out, and the knots in him tightened. Her muscles locked and clawed, and yet, she smiled, met him, and thrust harder. Her whisper echoed in the room, the secrets of their past watching them as she made love with him. He enfolded her breasts, thumbing her nipples, and the sight of him disappearing into her tormented him. She spared him nothing.

He was a Navy SEAL, and he could handle it.

Her body rippled like a ribbon in a strong wind, battering him in the power of their pleasure, and she quickened, thrusting longer and harder. She was untamed, the wild woman breaking free, the one that was used to taking chances, her kiss more erotic, her fingertips digging into his shoulders as her body spoke to him, urging him with her. He reached between and circled her clit.

“Oh, Wicked,” she said softly, drawing it out. Her breathing was harsh, and her body moved in uncontrollable cadence. His blood hummed, rushing in his veins, thickening his erection, and he wanted more of his thick arousal sliding into her, her body tightening with each moment closer to the peak. He pushed long and slow, then quickened. He fought the tension, wanting this to go on, but her body was too far gone.

Then she came.

Wicked consumed it. Her soft flesh tensed and clawed him, the grip of tender muscle trapping his erection. He leaned, lowering her to the mat and their clothes, and he pumped, his control slipping. Scarred and seasoned melted with feminine luxury, wet and hot. Primal. Captive sensations ripped free, roaring through his blood and blinding him.

Yet Kat matched him, her hips rising to prove her greed. She was quicksilver sleek, pulling him along with her, and he plunged into her with a frantic, erotic pulse. He met her gaze, her smoky green eyes intense as her body swallowed him in the ancient ritual.

“Wicked, yes,” she gasped, and he felt it, her climax squeezing him, the flex and pull of delicate flesh. Sitting back on his calves, he pulled her to him as if to bring her into his very core. He grasped her waist and thrust upward, deeply, and the untamed monster inside him broke free. His groan rose in the room, melting with her gasps of ecstasy, and they shivered through the unending rapture.

He held her tightly, his kiss strong and softening as the pleasure ebbed to a humming in his blood. He slid his hand up her spine to the base of her skull, his fingers sinking into her hair, and she tipped her head back. She met his gaze, and Wicked swiped his hand over her hair and kissed her softly.

They stared at each other for several moments absorbing what they had done. There was a time when he knew heartache and kept secrets, one he still harbored for her sake. Most of them had been stored up in a whole lot of pain. He took a breath when she reached up and caressed his cheekbones, his mouth, the look on her face something he’d only seen on her the night she’d been drunk on tequila. He could discount it then, but he couldn’t now. The tenderness was all for him, and with that look, she opened up herself, became vulnerable…for him.

Forcing himself to let go of the air jammed up in his lungs, Wicked also followed in her footsteps. He let go of the past and knew that forgiving her was the easy part. Forgiving himself would take much more detangling.

There had been times when his aloneness was overwhelming, he felt swamped by it. And he had figured he would go to the grave with that awful ache in his chest. Then her words had changed everything. Something that gave him a place to put everything he felt for the woman his brother had loved.

Phoenix told me once that if anything ever happened to him, he knew he could depend on you to take care of me. Kat’s words had been both a boon and a curse. He wanted much more than to just take care of her.

Then Wicked understood.

In a foreign country, the enemy planning heinous acts, no guarantee of a successful mission or survival, he’d been given a gift.