Blacklisted: Blacklist Operations Book #1 (5 page)

Chapter Five

Outside, she glared at Aidan and moved a few feet away from him. Aidan tensed to run after her, but Sophie didn’t bolt. “Don’t touch me again,” she said. He nodded tersely and shuffled her down the busy street.

The faster he walked, the more heated Sophie grew. He had to be schizophrenic, she mused. One moment he was torturing her so that she saw black, remembered the orchard, remembered the way the sky ballooned above her when the fell. The next moment he was kissing her so that she saw red and felt fire eat its way through her body in hot, hungry bites.

It wasn’t necessary for him to kiss her back, she mused. She could feel the heat from the pavement rising up around her jeans and imagined it was near unbearable during the day. It only made her angrier. He probably kissed her like that to humiliate or
tame her.

Sophie took deliberate steps, punishing the ground with each stride because she couldn’t punish him. The bastard got off scot free. Spices from vendors still danced in the air, tickling her nose and making it difficult to keep her head of steam intact. Music bled through the thin walls of nightclubs designed to cater to Western tourists.

Groups of people walked by, laughing or arguing, but no one noticed that anything was wrong. Sophie had always prided herself on her observational skills, but she wasn’t sure she’d have noticed anything wrong if she’d seen two people in her situation.

Hell, she
hadn’t even realized Aidan was in her bathroom.

She was angry, Aidan thought. It must be hell on her to bottle it up, when a girl like that was built to rage. He’d been in the business of people long enough to know what it meant when she huffed out her breath and pushed through congregating crowds who stood between her and the next section of the sidewalk.

Chances were, the kiss had actually pissed her off. He took comfort in the fact that he hadn’t initiated it. Aidan had been planning a cutting remark for
Adele when Sophie threw her tight little body against his and kissed him like it was the last pleasure she’d get in life.

He should have pushed her away, even though her ruse had the desired result. But the attraction that had taken root complicated things. She still smelled like soap and roses; when her body had fitted itself to his, Aidan had gotten
immediately hard.

No way Sop
hie hadn’t known it, he admitted. She’d rubbed up against him until all the passion he’d been denying himself roared to life and the kiss became something other than fake. He’d wanted to throw her down and sink into her hot, tight pussy in front of everyone in the hotel, mission be damned. He wanted to thrust into her until the searing hunger that permeated his veins had dissipated.

Even when he knew bystanders were watching, he couldn’t push her away. She was like a drug against his lips, pure honey and sunlight, everything he knew he’d never deserve.

When Sophie pulled away from him, it had taken all his strength not to follow her, to pull her back and work his tongue into her mouth. To kiss a line down between her beautiful breasts and taste her hot, tight slit.

Aidan forced himself to think about something else. Anything else. He took stock of the girl he had to deliver to his boss. Fists clenched, leaning forward, she strode toward an unknown destination with more bravery than he m
ight display under the circumstances. He’d never been captured before and, if she was anything like him, she was scanning the alleys for an escape.

They were only three blocks from his car. If he could get her there, he thought maybe he could get her all the way to Oliver in London. Flying would be simpler, but her agency would watch the skies once word got out that she was missing.

He shook himself. He was still acting like she was Veronica. But that wasn’t possible.

She was too young. Too sweet.

She deserved better than what he’d given her.

Behind the college girl exterior—and who could believe that she had already graduated?—was someone braver than he could have imagined. With no training, she’d stood up to his abuse. Maybe that was what made her kiss like a stimulant to his starve
d system; he’d never liked weak women.

“Aren’t you young to be a teacher?” Aidan slowed his steps almost imperceptibly, though he knew it was stupid. Still, he was rewarded when she matched his pace. They walked more slowly through the closed vendor stalls and light trickling from covered windows, together in the dim glow of the streetlights.

“Do you honestly expect me to converse with you? Because you’ve already tortured me once tonight.”

Unexpectedly, her tart reply brought a smile to his lips. “Yes, I expect you to talk to me. I expect you to do and answer everything I say, Sophie, until the day you’re free of me.” Guilt settled in his chest, but Aidan knew that dealing from a position of power was his best bet.

“Who decides when and if I get to be free?” She stopped dead in the middle of the street and turned to him, depriving him of the excellent view her toned ass provided in the stiff jeans.

“Why?”

“I’d like to know the name of the person who has my life in their hands.”

“A name won’t matter much. If you’re not who I thought, then there’s less to worry about.”

“But not nothing.”

“No,” he admitted. “Not nothing.”

She laughed bitterly and turned around, slamming into a passerby who muttered a comment about useless tourists before stalking away. Sophie blushed and Aidan thought, ridiculously, that she was beautiful.

“So this person might not want me dead. Maybe. Thanks for the comfort. I guess it doesn’t matter to you, though, because your life isn’t at stake.”

It occurred to him that somewhere between the kiss and their argument in the middle of a crowded street full of strangers who didn’t care enough to listen that her life did matter. At least a little. “You’re right,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. And that means you need to move your ass before I decide you’re not worth the trouble and leave you here.”

“Then leave me.”

“With a hole in your head?”

She shot him a look of furious hat
red, then began to walk again, moving slowly down the street.

Aidan dragged her toward a car, picking up his pace. He removed keys from his pocket and popped the trunk, throwing her suitcase in next to the bags already occupying the space above the spare tire. Sophie stumbled a little on the curb, but he kept a tight hold on her arm and settled her into the car, clicking her seatbelt into place before rounding the front and climbing into the driver’s seat.

They drove in silence until they were out of the city and the traffic cleared.

“Where are we going?” Sophie finally asked. He didn’t answer, of course, and turned on the radio. She shouldn’t have wasted her breath. By the time they reached a road that rolled along the coast, she was starving and regretting that she hadn’t ordered any food at the bar.

“Where are we going, Aidan?” she repeated.

“You don’t get to know yet.”

“Fine.” Sophie reached for the radio and spun the knobs, looking for something a little less upbeat.

“No,” he said, switching back to the sugary 80s American music. “You’re not in charge of the stereo.”

“This is what you pick?”

“It reminds me of being a kid,” he said.

“So where are we going?”

Silence.

“Seriously. Where are we going?”

Sophie repeated the question until his knuckles were white on the wheel and he was driving over the posted speed limit by 20 miles per hour. The more she asked, the faster he went.

Two hours later, he asked if she needed the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” she responded. But she silently wondered whether he was going in circles. Scenery flew by as night stretched to dawn, and still they didn’t reach a destination. It seemed that Aidan was either lost or deliberately avoiding a quicker route.

“Where are we going?”

“Damn it, Sophie. Ask me anything else.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He looked at her, incredulous, then back at the road. Aidan’s eyes widened and he slammed on the brake; Sophie hit the back of her seat hard, then flew forward into the dashboard.

It had been a mistake to look at her for so long, was his first thought when he came to. Sophie had been pissing him off, asking questions in that snotty prep school tone. Questions she knew he wouldn’t answer.

He was so fucking tired. Right when she’d started in with the sassy road trip act again, he’d been fantasizing about a really good cup of black coffee.

Sophie didn’t look tired. Didn’t even seem to dim as light streaked the sky. But he knew the adrenaline keeping her going would crash soon.

When he tore his eyes away from her sexy, smart-assed face and looked back at the road, a goat was standing smack in the middle of it. Instinct kicked in and Aidan steered the rental right of
f the road and into a ditch with a jarring thump. He’d been in accidents before, but he could already tell that the car wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way to the ferry.

Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he turned to Sophie. She was slumped against the door, breathing in shallow gasps. A gash on her forehead was dripping blood into her eyes.

“Slow down,” he ordered.

She continued breathing fast, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

“I said, slow down. You’re going to hyperventilate.” Her hands were clenched and shaking, even though he knew the motion had to hurt her damaged fingers. Aidan freed himself from the seatbelt and reached over to remove hers, then pulled her across the console and against his chest.

“Everything’s okay now,” he said, holding her with one arm and stroking her hair with the other. He didn’t feel any broken bones and she didn’t seem to be in pain. Just scared. The head wound would bleed, but it wasn’t serious, he knew.

Thank god she didn’t have any awkward bone injuries that would make getting her out of the country impossible. It was hard to disguise head wounds though, and Aidan didn’t look forward to public stares from passengers on the ferry who thought he was abusing his wife.

Of course, he was responsible for Sophie’s injuries. But she wasn’t his wife.

She wouldn’t or couldn’t stop her breathing. Her eyes grew large in her head, and she passed out in his arms.

They were three miles from the ferry. How the fuck was he supposed to get them onboard if she couldn’t walk?

Chapter Six

Sophie woke slowly, a ringing pain bouncing off the walls of her skull. Soft light filtered through the blinds drawn over the window of her room. Aidan sat hunched over in a chair on the other side of the bed.

In the pale light, he looked softer. More innocent, somehow. In sleep, his face was relaxed and his mouth had gone slack. Still, his impressive muscles filled out the fitted black t-shirt he wore and she couldn’t help but admire his shape. Her fingers itched to push back the lock of hair that had fallen away from his eyes, but she killed the urge.

Son of a bitch probably hit the brakes that hard to keep me from asking questions
. Her body started to shake under the covers, remembering the accident.

After everything he’d done, could he really justify punishing her for wanting to know her fate?

Sophie pushed back the covers and then immediately yanked them back up. She was clad in only a bra, panties and the bracelet Aidan had clamped on her at the hotel. Though he’d already seen her naked, it still infuriated her.

Determined not to let modesty stand in her way, she pushed her legs over the bed and forced herself to stand. Immediately, her
limbs were covered in goosebumps. Aidan didn’t stir when she wrapped herself in a blanket at the foot of the bed. It covered her like a cloak and dragged on the wooden floor as she walked to the door, turned the knob and pushed it open.

The sea.

The only thing she saw were waves and water. It spread out before her, endless and inescapable, like the man who waited sleeping in the room behind her. There was nowhere to hide on a boat, not really. Maybe if it had been a cruise ship, she could have secreted herself behind hundreds of gallons of soda syrup, but this was smaller and he’d find her in hours even if she found a good spot.

No matter, she thought, taking a step into the breezeway. She had to try. No sooner had her second foot crossed the threshold than she felt a hand warm on the back of her neck. Aidan squeezed gently with firm fingers. “Going somewhere?”

“I hate you.” Sophie slumped, defeated, against the doorframe. He dropped his hand from her neck and took her shoulders gently, steering her back to the bed.

“You’ll hate me more before this trip is over,” he predicted. She couldn’t find any joy or malice in the words. He sounded tired.

Once she was sitting complacently on the bed, Aidan rifled through one of his black bags and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Unless these are on your gorgeous wrists, I’m not going to sleep.’

Sophie felt a smirk surface from nowhere. “I don’t trust you enough for handcuffs.”

His face hardened. “This isn’t a game. Give me your wrist.”

She held her arms in her lap, feeling for all the world like a sullen child refusing to honor a reasonable request. Once Aidan realized she wasn’t going to give in, he sighed, knelt before her, and snapped her right wrist into the cuff. He attached the remaining cuff to his left wrist.

“You’re going to be fine, in case you’re wondering,” he said once he’d positioned himself next to her on the bed. “They cleaned out the head wound and it’s not bad at all. Since you didn’t die outright, you’re probably okay.”

“Too bad for you,” she muttered. “Would have taken some problems off your hand
s.”

“I don’t want you dead,” he said softly.

“Thanks for the car accident, by the way,” she said, ignoring his comment. “I can’t think of a more reasonable way of punishing me for asking where we’re going.” Now that she was thinking about it, the whole situation rankled. In a sick way, she understood what he’d done in the hotel. He needed information and sought it through pain. This time, there had been no reason beyond his pleasure and her punishment.

“There was a goat.” It was the last thing she expected Aidan to say.

“What?”

“A goat. When I looked back at the road, I saw it sitting there. I should have hit it, but…”

“You didn’t do this on purpose?” Her free hand gestured to the bandaged cut on her head.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t hurt you for being annoying.” His obvious irritation gave her a small measure of joy.

Sophie didn’t speak for a few minutes, just looked at his face. Dark purple shadows had gathered under his eyes and he looked almost gaunt. Now that she was studying him, she realized that his knuckles were split and swollen. “I think I could use a little more sleep,” she said, even though she wasn’t tired.

Aidan nodded and laid down next to her. She moved toward the edge of the bed, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her. “The cuffs will be more comfortable if we stay close.”

The boat rocked softly under them and the heat of his body lulled Sophie into complacency. Once his breathing was steady and slow, she let herself drift into sleep.

She woke alone hours later, wondering whether the light that came through the window was from the moon or an electric lamp in the corridor. The cabin was small, two square windows covered with half-opened blinds that looked out at the railing above the dark, choppy sea.

The sheets under her were rough against the back of her legs. Sophie tried to twist around, but her arm was caught over her head. Aidan
had slipped his own wrist free of the handcuffs and left the room, left her alone in the dark. She slumped back against the crinkly pillow and took long, shallow breaths, trying to calm herself.

Though she’d found herself in small, dark places more than once in her life, they still closed in on her. The tight, anxious feeling was worse if she was alone.

Closing her eyes, she counted her breaths and focused on the rise and fall of her ribcage. When she no longer felt the dark pressing in, terrible and tangible, she distracted herself by planning her upcoming semester. The long summer hadn’t lent itself to academic pursuits and her lecture schedule still wasn’t done.

Before she could finish, a key turned in the lock and Aidan entered with a tray of food. Instantly her mouth started to water. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone more than 24 hours without eating.

Setting the tray on the side table that was bolted to the floor, he flipped on the light. “Sit up,” he said, popping a straw out of its paper case.

Sophie struggled uptight until she was able to cross her legs under her body and sit with her back against the headboard. He uncovered the dish on the tray and waves of fragrant steam rolled out to reveal tomato soup, thick and red in a white bowl. Herbs floated on top of it and a wedge of thick, brown bread rested behind the bowl.

Aidan dipped a spoon into the bowl, stirred and then lifted it to her lips.

Accepting the offering without a fight, Sophie closed her eyes and moaned as the hot liquid slid down her throat and settled into her aching stomach. It was delicious, creamy and not at all like thin, watery soup from a can. When she opened her eyes, Aidan was staring at her. His eyes had sharpened and his pupils dilated.

Sophie blushed and shifted, realizing how she must have sounded.

“I can feed myself,” she insisted, reaching to take the spoon.

“I think I’d just as soon not arm you with hot liquid, thanks,” Aidan said, dipping the spoon back in and bringing it to her lips again. She scowled, but didn’t protest. The soup was too good to miss out on.

Aidan gave her another bite, hoping that Sophie didn’t notice the massive erection that hardened when she’d moaned.

Undressing her had been torture. As soon as the captain and his wife had left, cautioning Aidan to keep the head wound clean, he’d been faced with the choice of whether to disrobe her while she slept. Ultimately it seemed like she’d be more comfortable.

He thought about the mission when he pulled Sophie’s t-shirt over her smooth stomach. It wasn’t enough to keep out the inappropriate thoughts, like how he wanted to slide his hand into her pants and bring her to a climax. All the passion and fire that lit behind her eyes would be his for those wild moments when she was riding his fingers, tongue or cock.

But he kept himself rigidly apart from her, putting the t-shirt aside, pulling off her shoes and socks, and then unbuttoning her jeans. When his busted knuckles swept over the pink panties that separated his gaze from her perfect pussy, his body had tightened even more. It was agony not to touch her.

But he slid the pants off and then tucked her under the sheets. Aidan knew that he should have slept, but instead he just watched her, finding comfort in the rise and fall of her chest.

“Aidan,” she asked after swallowing a spoonful of soup, “can you at least tell me when we might get to the place you’re taking me? I’m not sure how long I slept or even how long we’ve been on the boat.” She looked at her lap and her shining hair fell in front of her face. “If you could just tell me that, I’d be satisfied. I won’t ask any
more questions.”

He fed her another bite, considering the request. When he broke off a piece of bread and brought it to her lips, she opened gratefully and chewed. “You slept for almost an entire day. I worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

“I have a splitting headache,” she admitted, swallowing the bread and opening her mouth for more soup. Her lips were plump and pink, perfect for kissing.

“We’ll get you some medicine when we reach the
mainland,” he said. “The ones in my luggage aren’t meant for headaches and with the possible concussion, I didn’t want to give you anything too strong. The captain didn’t understand my request, and his wife—whose English is better—won’t come near me.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “When I walked onto the ship, you were in my arms with dried blood on your face and in your hair. She screamed that I killed you.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was fucking awful. She made a huge scene and I thought we’d be denied entry. But her husband calmed her down, and took a bribe to keep us on board.”

“Nice that she cared,” Sophie said, a weak smile on her face.

“I think she was worried that you’d die on the boat and there would be questions. An operation like this can’t afford that.”

“Oh.” Aidan wished he hadn’t spoken, because her tone was disheartened and he hated to hear it. “How much longer will we be on the boat?”

“We’ll be in Iran in another day,” he admitted. “We’ll have at least a week in the car after that. You really need to rest.” Sophie automatically shrank from him when he stood abruptly, he noticed with a pang. Hatred at himself for hurting her swam through his veins. Aidan gathered the dishes in silence, then crossed to the door and turned off the light.

“Wait,” she squeaked when light from the breezeway flooded in. “Can you please leave the light on this time? I…I don’t like the dark.”

He stared at Sophie for a minute, intent on her hands, as if he was comparing one to the other, assessing the damage he’d done to her fingers. His eyes ran up over her face where the bruises had gathered like rainclouds in ugly shades of purple and black around her eyes. Minutes passed while Aidan stared at her, lost in thought, and she met his gaze with tired eyes.

When he shook his head and turned to leave again, she whimpered. Swallowed hard. He stopped and turned around again.

“You really aren’t Veronica, are you?” he asked, staring at Sophie’s shaking form on the bed.

“I’m not,” she said, using her free hand to wipe the tears gathering in her eyes. “Please, just let me go and I’ll never tell anyone.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I just can’t.”

Before he left, he turned on the light and looked at her one more time. She was so pale and delicate alone in the big bed. Aidan slammed the door and locked it behind him.