1941002110 (R) (20 page)

Her jaw dropped. Yeah, all that study of Shakespeare hadn’t been in vain after all. Who knew?

“Oh, Chase—what a cruel and wonderful girl this Jane was. I should write her a thank-you note.”

“No way in hell. She’s probably forgotten every line she ever knew, yet I can’t get rid of it.”

“That’s not a flaw. In fact, it’s kinda hot.”

He took her hand and pulled her up. Any more talk of being hot and sexy, and he’d bury his face between her legs and not come out until she’d screamed his name a few times.

“Come on, Sophie. Let’s go for a walk. We can stand under the Eiffel Tower, and I’ll conjure up some more lines. You’ll be mightily impressed, and then we’ll come back here and spend the night naked and sweaty. You’ll be willing to do anything for me, which will make me fucking happier than hell.”

She got to her feet and he caught her, kissed her quickly lest he give in to the temptation to strip her and fuck her here and now. She was warm and soft, and he loved the way she felt in his arms.

“You ready?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m ready for anything.”

He hoped that was true.

25

^“
S
ir, the new deputy commander is here. Should I show him in?”

Mendez got to his feet. “Send him in, Lieutenant Connor.”

Connor executed a perfect about-face and went out the door. Another moment and the door opened again. This time it was a different man who entered.

“Alex,” Mendez said, holding out his hand.

The other man took it, grinning as he did so. “Sir, it’s great to have the chance to work with you again.”

Mendez snorted. “You didn’t really want to leave that cushy assignment down at SOCOM did you? From palm trees and sandy beaches to the Beltway—what a letdown.”

Alex “Ghost” Bishop laughed. “Cushy my ass, and you know it. But yeah, I’m thrilled to be back at HOT. Thrilled to be your deputy commander.”

Mendez went over and took a seat behind his desk, indicating for Alex to sit across from him. He’d been going over Alex’s record right before he came in, though he knew most of it anyway. The Special Ops community wasn’t huge, and besides, they’d worked together before.

Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Cameron Bishop. Sixteen years in the Army, twelve as a Special Operator. Alex had been a Green Beret, recruited to Delta—and then he’d come to HOT where he’d transitioned into supervising operations rather than leading them. He brought a hell of a lot of experience with him, along with a Purple Heart, a Bronze Star, and countless commendations—though no doubt fewer than he deserved.

The truth of being a part of an outfit like HOT or Delta was that you didn’t have nearly as many medals as your regular Army counterparts—nor did you care. This wasn’t a profession for people who needed accolades. And Alex wasn’t the kind of man who wanted them.

In short, he was a good choice to be second-in-command of HOT. He was young enough at thirty-eight to have a lot of time left in his career but not so young as to lack the experience to lead. He wouldn’t make full bird for a while yet, but he had put on light colonel slightly quicker than the average. In short, Alex Bishop was just what HOT needed right now—provided Mendez could trust him.

These days he didn’t trust anyone, especially with Congressman DeWitt calling for investigations and inspections. Trust took time to build—but time was the one thing they had so little of.

Still, Alex was his deputy now, and this organization had to have a smooth and efficient chain of command in order to run the way it was supposed to. The mission was far more important than any one man or woman in the organization.

“We’ve got a lot to go over,” Mendez said. “It’s going to be like drinking from a firehose for a while. Operations have expanded and so has our mission. We’re bigger than the last time you were with us.”

Alex’s expression was serious and determined. “I’m looking forward to learning everything, sir. HOT is exactly what I want to do at this point in my career—and you’re who I want to learn from. I asked for this assignment. I’m ready for whatever you throw my way.”

Mendez grinned. “Then you’d better get ready, Alex, because the shit is about to hit the fan.”

They spent the next half hour discussing various missions and operational details. Alex asked good questions and had interesting suggestions a couple of times. He was the kind of man Mendez wanted to hand HOT over to someday—with Matt Girard as Alex’s deputy if he had his way—though that someday was far in the future. Mendez had no intentions of retiring and giving up HOT anytime soon.

He wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with himself if he did. Sam flickered through his mind, but she didn’t stay. Hell, Sam was as dedicated to her career as he was to his. It was no longer a job but a lifestyle—for both of them.

What the hell would they do anyway? Get married? Kids were out for more than one reason. He was too old to deal with toddlers—and too impatient to handle them. Sam was in her forties too, and she’d never indicated a desire to have children. So what did that leave?

Buying an RV and driving to Florida? Touring the national parks? Sitting on a beach and losing track of time because he had nowhere to be?

Mendez tried not to shudder, but fuck, he shuddered anyway. No. Just no. Slowing down wasn’t for him. He’d die in this job if he could. Preferably not in this chair, but who the fuck knew what could happen?

When they’d talked about everything they could in the allotted time slot and Alex was sufficiently both briefed and overwhelmed at once, they shook hands and Alex left to take care of some of the details to do with his move to DC. He’d be in the office the next day for his first full day shadowing the outgoing deputy, and they’d go from there.

Mendez stared at the phone, then reached over and picked it up, dialing Sam before he could change his mind.

“Johnny,” she said when she answered, and her voice was warm like honey.

“How are you today, Sam?”

“Busy. You?”

“Same. Hey, anything for me in Paris?”

Sam laughed softly. “Not even pretending to butter me up first?”

“I’ll butter you up later,” he said with a smile. “Literally, if you like.”

“Oh, kinky. I might like that a lot.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve got nothing available in Paris right now. I’ve tried, but everyone is tied up with other assignments.”

Mendez ground his teeth and then stopped when his jaw ached. “Thanks for trying.”

“Is everything okay over there?”

He sighed. “So far as I know. I’m not involved, remember?”

“I know. And I know how upset you are about it.”

“Yeah.” Upset was a mild description of what he was feeling, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Pissed off and frustrated was more like it. “If that flash drive has something on it we could use…
fuck
.”

“You can’t take the risk, Johnny. You can’t use military assets to assist one of your soldiers in a personal matter.”

“I know.” He’d done it before, when push came to shove, but people had been on the verge of dying then. He hated that he had to wait for that kind of moment, but he wasn’t the dictator of his own military organization here. There were rules, and he believed in them.

He just hated when they interfered with what he needed to do.

“Why don’t you come over tonight? Let me ease your pain.”

“Can’t tonight, babe. Have to work late.”

She sighed. “Take care, Johnny. Don’t let the stress get you.”

“Roger that.”

But when he hung up, he stared at the wall opposite for a good long while, weighing his options. And then he took out his personal cell phone and made a call.

Ian Black picked up on the first ring. “What a surprise, Colonel.”

“Need your help, Black.”

“I’m all ears.”

I
F IT WAS
possible to have an almost perfect evening while being on the run for your life, then Sophie was having it. Chase held her hand as they walked down the Champs-Élysées. She’d been to Paris before, more than once, but she’d never enjoyed it quite so much.

Because she’d never come to the City of Love with a man before. And though she wasn’t in love—
they
weren’t in love—they were certainly in lust and having a great time of it. Lust in the City of Love was perfectly fine with her.

Chase steered her into a store where he forced her to try on the ugliest flowered tent dress she’d ever seen in her life. Then he added insult to injury by handing her a pair of clogs.

“No,” she said. “Not happening.”

So he found her a pair of black ballet flats instead. Not quite as bad, though nothing was fixing the ugliness of the dress.

“You can’t look like you,” Chase said by way of apology. “I’m sorry.”

Eventually they left the store with their bags and walked down the chilly street. They didn’t speak for a long while. Chase kept her close, tucked into the curve of his arm. The cool air kissed her cheeks, made her sniffle, and he stopped and turned her toward him.

“Look, I’m sorry about the dress. I know it’s hideous. But it’s best that way.”

“I know.” She sniffed again. “It’s okay.”

“Then why are you crying?”

She blinked. “I’m not crying. The cold air makes my nose run.”

He rubbed his hands over her arms, as if that would warm her up. It didn’t, but it felt nice.

“We should eat,” he told her. “We can pick up something on the way back or find a restaurant.”

“How about an out-of-the-way bistro near Notre Dame?”

“You know such a place?”

“
Mais oui
.”

He shook his head. “You amaze me, Sophie. Fucking French.”

“I had a lot of time to study as a child. And I had a tutor. Mom thought it would make me more marketable.”

“Marketable.” He said it flatly, not a question at all, and she knew he understood.

“Well, I was going to be a big girl, so I needed skills if I was going to attract a man.”

He growled—and then he pulled her into his arms, crushing his mouth down on hers. He kissed her hard and deep. It was a hot, wet, arousing kiss. When he pulled away, she clung to him. She was wet now, of course. If they could find a dark corner somewhere, he could slip inside her and make her come within moments.

She almost suggested it, but she bit her lip and kept the words inside.

“Fuck your mother,” he said.

Sophie giggled. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

His eyes widened and then he laughed too. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Good… because I’d probably get stabby if you did. Mom’s gorgeous at forty-six—more gorgeous than I’ll ever be—but she already has everything she needs. She is not getting you too.”

His face was so beautiful in the lights reflecting all around them. He had a hard, harsh beauty to him. He wore a day’s growth of beard, and his eyes flashed in the glow of the city lights.

“You aren’t gorgeous like your mother,” he said. “You’re gorgeous in your own way. And it’s better—far better, if you ask me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you or are you not the man who memorized whole passages of Shakespeare in order to get laid?”

He laughed suddenly. “All right, yeah. I did—but I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Sophie. I don’t need to do that to get laid by you or any woman.”

“Arrogant,” she chided softly.

He stuck out his tongue and flicked it up and down quickly. “Confident,” he said after a second.

Sophie’s stomach flipped. Wetness flooded her panties.

“Keep that up and we aren’t going to dinner.”

He stepped in closer to her, his body big and overwhelming in her space. And so, so comforting.

“All I need to eat is you, babe,” he whispered.

If words could make a woman come, those would do it. Sophie swallowed. “Food, Chase. We’re going for food first. Then we’re going back to the apartment and getting naked—and I get to eat you first.”

His eyes widened as he started. “Holy fuck. Warn a guy before you say shit like that.”

Sophie laughed. “Why, did you come in your jeans?”

“Not quite.” He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her away from the rail. “Come on, let’s get dinner so we can go home and get naked.”

26

D
inner was terrific, but dessert was even better. Sophie was naked on the bed, the curtains wide-open so they could see the Eiffel Tower against the night sky, and her legs were on his shoulders. He held her open with his thumbs and licked her pussy while she writhed and moaned.

She tasted sharp and sweet, and her response drove him fucking insane. He spread her wider and increased the pressure of his tongue against her clit. She arched her back and he slipped down the wet seam of her sex, thrust his tongue inside her while she whimpered and begged him to let her come.

“Chase, please, Chase…”

He loved that sound, the rawness of her voice, the little jerks of her hips as she rode his face. He was a good lover, always cared about pleasing the woman he was with—but pleasing Sophie was something of an obsession. He’d fucked her for the first time yesterday, but it felt as if he’d been with her forever.