CHAPTER SIX
Was she really going through with this? Victoria stood near the car waiting to take her into Baq and stared off into the desert. The sun was setting, turning the sky blood red and the dunes orange. It was beautiful, but not the sort of place to take for granted. Forgetting for even an instant that the desert was a constant struggle between life and death could be fatal.
Victoria shuddered. She’d nearly been killed earlier today when she’d stood under a bridge and stared down a man with a gun. She would have died if not for Nick Brandon and his team.
She still didn’t know who they were or what this outfit was, but they were definitely special operators. She suspected they were Delta Force, no matter what Nick said. It was either that or Green Berets. What else was there?
And she was about to walk back into Ian’s headquarters and tell him she’d found a spotter. Someone she used to know and had met again today when he’d come to her aid in Akhira.
God, it was risky as hell, but apparently this Colonel Mendez had access to things that normal colonels didn’t. Like CIA reports. She’d had no idea Ian was former CIA. He’d always styled himself as ex-military, and he worked unconventionally. He had the trust of the locals in a way that surprised her, but that hadn’t worried her until the mission two weeks ago. Now she wondered just whose side he was on.
Nick came out of the building and swaggered toward her. He’d taken off the gear, but he was still dressed in desert camouflage. He was tall, his shoulders stretching the uniform impressively, and there was a day’s worth of stubble on his face. Soldiers had strict rules for grooming, but not out here. Just another indication he wasn’t regular Army.
Her belly did a flip the closer he got. She pressed a hand to her middle and told herself to breathe. He came to a stop and stared down at her, his kiss-worthy lips forming a hard frown. She could see the ball chain from his dog tags glinting against his neck where he hadn’t tucked it into his T-shirt. Why, oh why, did he have to be so damn appealing?
“I know you don’t like me,” he said, “but you can trust me to protect you out there.”
Her heart thumped and she swallowed. “First of all, I can protect myself—been doing it for two years without you. And second, I never said I didn’t like you.”
He snorted softly. “Have it your way then. And you haven’t liked me since the moment we met, so no use pretending otherwise.”
“I didn’t like your superior attitude, Preacher Boy. Big difference.”
He blinked. “What attitude? I showed you to your room. I was polite.”
She was surprised he remembered that. “Ha! You looked at me like I was something you’d scraped off the bottom of your shoe. I thought it was because I was a woman invading sacred territory. And you weren’t polite when we were in the field.”
“No, I was trying to win. But I never took you for anything less than an equal. I thought you knew that.”
“You insulted me. I’m sure I’m not remembering that wrong.”
He actually grinned, his teeth flashing white in his tanned face. He had lines at the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He’d been almost too pretty three and a half years ago. Now that he had some hard edges? Geez. Sexy, sexy man.
“I insulted your ability. Not your gender. Typical trash talk.”
Victoria frowned. Was that right? He’d pushed her buttons, but as she searched her memory, she couldn’t remember him ever calling her weak or implying she wasn’t good enough because she was a woman.
Why had it felt so damn personal at the time? And, dammit, why did he have to be so agreeable now when she really needed to keep distance between them?
“You didn’t insult anyone else like that. Just me.”
“You were the closest competition I had.” He shrugged. “I won’t apologize for rattling your cage. I’d have done the same to anyone.”
She was still looking up at him and trying to figure out where this unsettled feeling in her belly was coming from when he reached out and smoothed the pad of his thumb over her forehead. Shock ricocheted through her, and she took a hasty step backward, breaking the contact. Her body tingled, a surge of moisture dampening her panties.
Nick dropped his hand to his side and stood there like a mountain. He looked… safe. She wanted to do what she’d never done before, which was wrap her arms around him and press her cheek to his chest. It was disconcerting as all hell.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was out of line.”
“What were you doing?”
“You had a frown line. I didn’t like that I’d caused it, so I thought I’d smooth it out.”
She frowned. “Well, don’t touch me. I don’t like it.”
She liked it too much.
“See, I was right.” One corner of his mouth twitched up.
“About what?” Why couldn’t she think when he looked at her like that?
“You don’t like me.”
She backed up another step. She did like him. More than she should. She was out of her depth with him—and she couldn’t let him know it. She’d been taking care of herself for too long to let one sexy man screw with her goals.
“I like you just fine. But don’t touch me, and we’ll get along a whole lot better.”
He shook his head slowly. “Ah, Vicky, you are a challenge.”
“And don’t call me Vicky,” she said automatically.
He perked up at that. Then he laughed. “So that’s it, huh? Vicky.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t call me Preacher Boy and I won’t call you Vicky. Got it?”
Dammit. “You drive a hard bargain. So what do I call you? Shithead?”
“Brandy works. Nick works. Pick one.”
“Not as interesting as Preacher Boy, but whatever.”
The driver of her car came outside in civvies. He was supposed to drop her in a market in Baq. She’d make her way back to Ian’s from there. And then she had to talk Ian into bringing Nick into the outfit. Her pulse skipped. What if Ian simply handed her over to bin Yusuf and washed his hands of her?
Nick lifted his gaze to the car for a moment before dropping it back to her. “Don’t worry, Victoria. I’ll be nearby, waiting to hear from you. If anything feels off, call me and I’ll come for you.”
“I’ll shoot my way out and call after.”
He’d given her back her purse after she’d agreed to Mendez’s proposal. She hadn’t even known he had it. But everything was there, and she’d taken out her phone and programmed in the numbers they gave her.
He laughed. “Fine, whatever. But calling first might make getting away easier.”
Nick shoved his hands in his pockets as they faced each other. The driver started the car, and she knew it was time to go. But she didn’t want to turn away from Nick, didn’t want to get in the car and watch him fade into the distance.
It wasn’t like her to feel this way at all, and that was just the cue she needed to force herself to turn and walk away. Ridiculous to feel any sort of attachment simply because they’d known each other a lifetime ago in a simpler world.
She pulled open the car door and started to duck inside. But her gut churned.
Driven by some emotion she couldn’t name, Victoria turned and walked back over to Nick. He was frowning at her when she reached up and pulled his head down. She pressed her lips to his cheek, felt the roughness of his stubble and breathed the smell of him—sand, spice, and cool water—deep into her lungs.
“Thanks for saving me,” she said, her lips close to his ear.
She started to step away, but he caught her close and turned his head, his lips meeting hers. The contact was shocking—and delicious in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She’d been kissed before, but this… this was better than any of those kisses had been.
His mouth was soft and hard against hers, his hands firm on her hips as he held her against him. The kiss was hot and tame all at once. Simultaneously the most arousing and most chaste kiss she’d ever had. He didn’t force her mouth open, didn’t thrust his tongue between her lips—he just kissed her hard and thoroughly before setting her away from him and taking a step backward.
And, God, she wanted his tongue so badly now. Wanted to feel it sliding against her own, stroking her senses higher.
But the kiss was over and he was looking at her, his jaw firm and a hard look in his eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and it took her a moment to remember that she’d thanked him for saving her.
“I… I have to go.” Her cheeks flamed as she said it because he knew she had to leave as well as she did. The car was running, and she’d left the door open. She took a step backward, and then another.
Then she turned and got inside the car, determined not to look at him again. But she failed because she looked up, her gaze clashing with his right as she closed the door. And she didn’t look away as they drove off. Nick didn’t move from the spot she’d left him standing in.
It was only when the car turned and he was out of sight that she remembered how to breathe.
* * *
She’d imagined the whole thing. It was the only explanation. Victoria lay in her bed and pushed her hair off her face. The air conditioner wasn’t working right, and the room was hot. She lay on top of the covers in a pair of tiny panties and a tank top and stared up at the ceiling fan whipping overhead.
There was no way she’d kissed Nick Brandon. No way she’d felt the hard muscles of his body, the solid pressure of his thighs against hers, the mildly disturbing hardness between them. No way in hell.
She closed her eyes and bit back a moan. She always slept alone, but for once she wished she had company. And not just any company. Victoria pressed her eyes tight and tried to rid herself of the vision of Nick Brandon watching her drive away.
The house was silent, which meant that Ian was asleep or working alone. Only a few operators stayed here at a time when they weren’t on assignment. Others were quartered in different hotels or rentals nearby.
She’d been nervous when she’d walked into the house today, but Ian hadn’t seemed in the least surprised to see her.
“You don’t look like someone who’s seen her long-lost sister,” he’d remarked.
Victoria kept her purse close, her fingers itching to wrap around the butt of her pistol. “I didn’t,” she said. “It seems as if Zaran bin Yusuf had something else in mind.”
“Oh?”
She’d faced Ian then, dropping the purse and lifting the gun. “He wants me dead.”
Ian’s brows drew down. It took him a second to speak. “You think I knew.”
“Did you?”
He lifted both his hands and held them beside his head. “No. I was told you would be allowed to see your sister for an hour. That’s all.”
She’d chewed her lip, her heart hurting over the fact she’d not seen Emily at all. “What’s the loss of another operator to you? We’re all replaceable, right?”
Something flickered in his gaze. But then his eyes went flat. “Yes. But I don’t have another sniper of your caliber. You’re the best, Victoria.”
The praise didn’t feel as nice as it should. She was tired and confused—and just a little bit heartsick at the idea this man could have betrayed her. She liked Ian. Or had, anyway.
“I need a spotter. A good one.”
“I’m working on it.”
Her heart had pounded. “I found one.”
One eyebrow arched. “Really? While thwarting an attempt on your life?”
“Someone I went to sniper training with. He’s left the Army—not voluntarily, I take it—and he’s here in Qu’rim. And yeah, he was at the cafe where bin Yusuf’s men tried to grab me.”
“Convenient.” He’d leaned back in his chair then, his hands folded on top of his head. Not provoking her. “If all they tried to do was grab you, how do you know bin Yusuf wants you dead?”
“I didn’t get a warm fuzzy feeling from them. Why else would he try to grab me?”
“To reunite you with your sister? To keep you in his camp for himself? How the fuck would I know?”
She still didn’t lower the gun, though he sounded thoroughly baffled. “You’d know if he told you.”
“I don’t take orders from bin Yusuf. I do what I want, for whom I want, so long as I get paid.”
“If he paid you to kill me, would you?”
His eyes flashed. “I might. But he’d have to pay me a whole fucking lot to replace you, and I don’t think that’s his priority right now.”
“Geez, I’m beginning to think you care.”
“Sweetheart, I care as much as I can. It’s all dollars and sense to me. And it makes no sense unless he’s got the dollars.”
“So romantic. I feel positively safe now.”
He’d snorted. “Shoot me if you have to, but otherwise put the fucking gun down and tell me about this spotter.”
She’d stood there for a solid minute, debating. And then she’d lowered the gun and gone to sit in the chair in front of his desk, like always.
“You know, I should be insulted you’d think I’d set you up. Why the fuck would I send you to Akhira just to get you killed? I could do it myself—or let bin Yusuf grab you in the market down the street if he wanted to do it personally.”
She hadn’t mentioned that bin Yusuf didn’t seem to want to do it himself since he’d instructed his men to shoot her on a remote stretch of beach.
“His name’s Nick Brandon. He was some kind of Special Forces or something, but he’s been involuntarily separated. He wouldn’t tell me why. But he says he’s looking for work. And I know he’s good. The best, besides me.”
“You have a contact number?”
“Yes.”
“Then give it to me. No promises, but if he checks out, we’ll see.”
And that had been the end of that. She’d given Ian Nick’s phone number and she’d gone to bed. She wasn’t worried about Nick’s story not agreeing with hers. They’d gone over it again and again with the colonel before she’d been allowed to leave.
She couldn’t sleep as her mind churned with too many thoughts. She thought of her fear when she’d been standing under that bridge, and then she thought of the moment when the men around her dropped to the ground, their lives ended by a sniper’s bullet. She’d never been that close before. She was the one shooting from a safe distance, not the one standing beside somebody when he went down.
Then she thought of the moment those men had poured from the van and she’d thought she’d gone from one hell to the next. But it was Nick. She’d been so relieved because she knew that whatever else was going on, he wasn’t there to kill her.
And now she was supposed to bring Nick into Ian’s private security firm and let him spy for his colonel. And the United States Army. Ian, who’d given her a job and given her the promise of finding Emily. Ian, who’d seemed thoroughly unaware of bin Yusuf’s attempt on her life and angry that she’d think he had anything to do with it.
But, dammit, Ian wasn’t her brother. He wasn’t her lover. He was a man with an agenda of his own, and for all she knew he was a pretty terrific liar. He could be on the phone with Zaran bin Yusuf right now, arranging for her death.
Not that this Colonel Mendez was any better. Just because he had the backing of the Army didn’t mean he wasn’t dirty. He’d targeted Ian, and she’d agreed to help because he’d promised to get Emily for her and transport her back to the States.
Emily might not have a clean record once it was done, but she’d at least be safe and out of an evil man’s control. Victoria would spend every moment she had making sure that Emily got the life she deserved.
Victoria balled her fist and thumped it on her thigh. If only Emily was still alive. That was the thing that worried her in the middle of the night. She’d gone over and over that last conversation, Emily’s statement that she missed their mom, and she wondered. Why had Emily said it? What did it mean? Was she ready to leave this place? Was she afraid of Zaran?
Why hadn’t she called in six months? She hadn’t been allowed to call, obviously. But what if it was something worse? What if she was unable to call?
Victoria closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. And then she reached for her phone on the nightstand. She’d tried calling Emily before, but there was nothing except endless ringing. Even the voice mail didn’t work anymore. She got the same result this time.
She ended the call and scrolled through her contacts until she found Nick’s name. He’d said he’d be nearby if she needed him. She’d wondered what that meant, but she’d decided it was best if she didn’t know. Now she clicked on his name and called up text messaging. She hesitated for a moment before typing.
You there?
She pressed Send before she could change her mind. It took only seconds before she had an answer.
Yes. You okay?
Fine. Just checking.
Thinking about me, weren’t you?
She could feel his smirk through the phone. Her cheeks heated. Two could play this game.
Oh yeah. Touching myself too.
Jesus, don’t say that.
Why not?
There was no reply for the longest time. Her heart sank a little as her phone remained silent. And then it buzzed.
Because I want to touch you, V. Everywhere. Until you scream my name.
Her breath shortened. And her pussy tingled with heat. She knew how to take care of herself—hell, it was how she got off when she needed to—but she found herself wishing he could touch her.
We barely know each other, PB.
We know each other enough.
Her skin was so hot. The fan didn’t help, and she wanted to go kick the AC unit. But it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.
Best we don’t go there. Work and play don’t mix.
Maybe not, but we won’t always be working.
She sucked in a breath. Her nipples tightened against her tank top, the fabric almost torture against her sensitive flesh. She pushed that thought away and typed.
What were you doing when I texted?
Sleeping.
Sorry I woke you.
I told you to let me know if you needed me.
She stared at the screen, her heart thumping, wondering what to say in reply. She’d needed someone just now, someone to answer her in the middle of the night when she was lonely and scared for her sister. But she couldn’t say any of that to him. She couldn’t let him know she was anything less than tough. Because he wasn’t her friend. He was just a guy she knew who’d helped her out of a tight spot.
Good night, V. See you soon.
She texted him back, then slipped the phone on the nightstand and flopped onto her side. She’d left him in the desert two weeks ago, desperate to escape him. Now she couldn’t wait to see him again.