CHAPTER NINE
There was something damned arousing about a woman in a tank top and faded jeans assembling a rifle. Nick kept glancing into the rearview to watch Victoria work. Her fingers were small and slender, and they moved over the parts of the rifle with confidence. But that wasn’t the best part.
No, the best part was the way her top stretched over her breasts and gave him a view of rounded swells as she leaned over and her flesh was exposed. His dick was hardening whether he wanted it to or not. He shifted in the seat, trying to ease the pressure on his swelling cock.
Jeez.
He knew he should just watch the road and stop looking, but hell, what man could resist tits on display? Especially when they belonged to the only woman who’d ever disliked him on sight. Hell, even if she hadn’t disliked him as she’d insisted, she’d done a good job of acting like it.
But then she’d kissed him at the American base, and even though he’d known it was meant to be a sweet kiss on his cheek, he’d turned his head and taken what he really wanted from her.
And she hadn’t resisted. She’d kissed him back, her body melting for an instant. She’d been soft and sweet and so intoxicating. He still didn’t know how he’d let her go. How he’d stood there and watched her get into that car, her eyes fixed on his until the car turned out of sight.
She finished assembling the gun and looked up, her gaze colliding with his in the rearview. There were dark circles beneath her gray eyes, and the corners of her mouth were pinched. Victoria was under a lot of strain, but he wasn’t sure what kind of strain it was.
What if she’d betrayed him to Black and this was all for show? What if she trusted her boss more than she trusted Mendez, and she’d lured them in like a spider on a web? For all he knew, he was barreling toward his own execution instead of a job they were meant to do together.
Maybe that’s why Black hadn’t given any information. And maybe that’s why Victoria hadn’t insisted. He could be the one being set up. He knew it, but that hadn’t been enough of a reason to abort the mission. He was here, and he wasn’t going down easily or quickly.
In spite of the fact the woman in the backseat held a loaded rifle and had access to an entire arsenal at her fingertips. He wasn’t unarmed, but it wasn’t enough against a woman of her skill. He took comfort in the fact she wasn’t going to shoot him while he was driving since that would be suicide.
“Got what you need?” he asked.
She leaned her head back on the seat for a second. “Yes. No one’s taking us without a fight.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “That’s pretty much my philosophy too. You didn’t think I planned to pull over and give up, did you?”
She shook her head. “Not precisely.”
Maybe she was only putting on a show, but she looked determined as hell to repel any would-be attackers. She sighed and shifted the guns around so they were in easy reach, then she climbed back into the front seat and tucked a pistol into the door pocket at her side. She’d come over the seat face-first, her top dipping so low he could see her belly button, her hair sliding over her shoulder and onto his. He could feel her heat, smell her perfume—not actual perfume, but soap and shampoo and sweat—and he wanted to groan. Then he wanted to find a nice hotel and take her to a room where he could have his way with her for several hours.
Not a good time for this, dude.
Victoria glanced at him, her cheeks reddening slightly. “What?”
He cleared his throat and hoped she didn’t look down at his crotch. He was wearing cammies and jump boots, but still. The pants weren’t tight, but his problem would be rather obvious if she looked close enough.
“Just enjoying the view.” Because he couldn’t help teasing her, even if he probably shouldn’t.
“You mean the desert, of course.” She swiveled her head to look at the flat landscape before them. “Lovely.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. Or tell the truth. “I meant you, but all right.”
“I knew you were looking down my shirt,” she said, her voice sounding all prim and scandalized. God, it turned him on. Because she looked tough and dirty, not at all innocent. The voice of a virgin and the body of a sinner.
“You can look down mine if it makes you feel better,” he said.
He didn’t think she’d say anything, but she suddenly reached over and jerked his T-shirt from his pants, revealing his belly and chest as she shoved it upward. It was shocking. And arousing, goddammit. He wanted to groan.
“How about I look up your shirt instead?” she purred.
“Jesus, Victoria. If you want more, all you gotta do is fucking ask.”
She let the shirt go and it fell. “You’re not my type,” she said, sitting back and adjusting her sunglasses. “Sorry.”
He snorted. “What, male? That not your type, sweetheart?”
She made an indelicate noise. “I like men just fine. I don’t like big, brawny men with more muscles than brains.”
He gripped the wheel and stared at the road in front of them. Then he laughed as he remembered that kiss they’d shared. Not interested in him? Yeah, right. “You’re so full of shit. Up to your pretty eyebrows.”
She propped a foot on the dash and wrapped an arm around her knee. “I’m too focused on what I need to do. Sorry. Another place, another lifetime, maybe you’d be fun for a few hours.” She shrugged. “But not now. Not when Emily’s out there somewhere, counting on me.”
* * *
Yeah, she was full of shit. Because he was beautiful, his skin golden and hot, and she’d nearly jerked her fingers away as they sizzled from that simple touch when she’d yanked his shirt up. God, what had she been thinking to touch him like that?
She’d just wanted to unnerve him a little bit, but she’d unnerved herself instead.
Victoria shoved her hair off her shoulder and concentrated on the flat desert sand in front of them. They’d been riding for less than two hours now, and already her body was keyed up, like a lightning rod that had taken a strike and had nowhere to discharge it. Her skin sizzled with energy, and her fingers tapped a relentless beat on her leg as she held her knee and focused her attention ahead of the car.
“Tell me about her,” he said, and her head swiveled around to look at him. He glanced at her but then turned his attention back to the road. His big hands gripped the wheel steadily, and she found that she could almost relax with him. Almost, but not quite. She hadn’t trusted Jonah as far as she could throw him, and he’d driven like shit. Her partner before him had left after a month, unable to handle the heat—in more ways than one—and eager to get back to Iowa, or somewhere equally normal and reasonably safe.
None of her partners had ever asked about her life. Oh, some of them had expressed an interest in getting horizontal with her, much as Nick had—but there was something about his suggestions that made her belly spark and her pussy clench and her breath shorten. The others had simply pissed her off.
She was so used to holding her past close that she almost told him to fuck off. And then she decided what the hell. What did it matter? He was risking his life by being here, the same as she was, and while he was doing it for his colonel and a cause, he was still doing it when he didn’t have to. It could have been anyone else in his unit—but it was Nick Brandon, and at least she sort of knew him.
Besides, part of her wanted him to understand.
“She used to be a sweet kid. Open, trusting, desperately seeking love and belonging.” Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “We were orphaned, you see. My grandfather took us in—but then he died and we went into foster care. It didn’t work out so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. No one harmed us. But we were… unwanted, I think. Emily felt it worse than I did because she was younger. I still remember our parents. She doesn’t. Gramps was all we had—and then he was gone.”
“You think bin Yusuf made her feel as if she belonged somewhere?”
Victoria swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him know how much she blamed herself. If she’d been there, instead of in the Army…
“He must have. He’s very… charismatic. He’s obsessed with Americans—or was, anyway. Completely gets the culture and psyche.”
“You think he singled her out.”
“I don’t really know. I wasn’t there.” She ran her hands through her hair, scrubbed her scalp as if she could scrub away the bad memories and the guilt. “I joined the Army, looking for a way out, you know? I wanted the security and the college fund. I wanted to make her my dependent, help her get clean. But she took up with Zaran, and that was the end of everything. The Army didn’t appreciate the connection to a radical terrorist, apparently.”
He was silent for a long moment. “So you left the Army and ended up here.”
“I have a skill that’s useful. I’ll never get to use the G.I. Bill now, but with the money Ian pays me, I’ll be able to take care of Emily and maybe go to college someday too. It was the best option I had.”
“I’m not judging you, Victoria.”
“You already did that, Preacher Boy. A couple of weeks ago, unless my memory fails me.”
He didn’t even comment on her use of the nickname he hated. “Yeah, I did. But I was fucking pissed. You ruined my shot, and you let that asshole get away.”
“I had to, don’t you get that?” she snapped. And then she shook her head, wondering how she’d let the conversation get this far away from her. Why had she thought she could spill her guts, even a little bit? There was a price to be paid when you let it all out.
“He’s the only link I have to Emily. If something happens to him, then what happens to her? I couldn’t take that chance.”
The silence stretched out between them like a wire pulled tight. “I have a sister,” he finally said.
His voice was even, mild, and she blinked as if they’d entered a time warp. She’d expected him to say something about what she’d done out there when she’d shot the opposition commander instead of bin Yusuf. Or something about Ian and how dirty he had to be for ordering it done.
She hadn’t expected him to say he had a sister. It confused her and made a feeling swell in her chest that she didn’t quite know how to process. Her gut reaction was to lash out, to push him away.
“Congratulations.”
The minute she snapped at him, she felt sorry for it. But he didn’t snap back.
“Her name is Shelly and she’s gay. Not that I fucking care, but my parents did. Still do. They disowned her—and I disowned them. So yeah, sweetheart, I get why you’re doing this. I’d do anything to erase the pain of our parents’ betrayal, to make them see that Shel is normal and beautiful just the way she is. But they don’t fucking care. It’s a sin, and Shel is evil in their eyes for not changing to suit them. They don’t care how much they hurt her by refusing to acknowledge her existence.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Well, I care. And I’d do anything to make her happy, so yeah, I get it.”
Her vision was blurry now, damn him. Finally, someone who might really understand. Not just express sympathy and secretly wonder why she didn’t simply let her sister self-destruct. Anyone who was so foolish as to get herself tangled up with a man who professed hatred of the United States and all Americans surely deserved what she got, right?
Well, not when you could still remember her hugging you tight at night because she was scared of a monster under the bed, or when she followed you on her bike even when you told her not to because you were meeting with your friends and then cried when you got angry and said you didn’t want her around because she was still a baby and you weren’t. Victoria had soothed fears, bandaged scrapes, and taught her sister what it meant when she got her period.
Gramps had been wonderful, but there were some things he either didn’t think of or didn’t want to think of because he was uncomfortable with them. Ushering two girls into teenage-dom hadn’t been easy, that’s for sure.
Gramps had told them endless stories about his days in the Army. “We didn’t leave no man behind, little missies. Not ever. You could count on your fellow soldier to take care of you. And you can count on us to take care of each other, am I right?”
Leave no man behind. That’s what she was doing. Or no woman, in this case. Victoria rolled her fingers into a fist, digging her nails into her palm so she wouldn’t cry at the thought of Emily and all that had gone wrong.
“Thanks for telling me that,” she said, her voice tight. “Shelly is lucky to have you for a brother.”
He shrugged, but a muscle in his jaw tensed as if he were suppressing strong emotion. “We’ll find your sister, Victoria. I promise we will.”