Elite Metal-ARE-epub (55 page)

When he glanced at the bed then at her, she nodded. He guided her over to the bed and yanked the covers back. The sheets were cool against her skin, but she needed the bracing. The orgasm had done wonders to loosen her up, but she didn’t want to relax. It would be too easy to say to hell with everything and just crawl atop him to let their bodies communicate.

Rolling onto his side, he faced her, head propped on his hand. “Why did you come to my room?”

Because you speak Japanese.
Quelling the flip answer, she considered the question.
Because I want to know if you’re someone I can trust.
Pathetic.
Because I can’t get you out of my head.
More pathetic.
Because you
see
me when no one else does.
None of those answers slipped past her lips. Telling him she refused to answer the question because it bordered on the professional would tip her hand—and it wouldn’t be entirely true.

Brendan Coyle was dead. Her efforts should involve investigating his murder.
But I’m not a cop.
She’d already reported it to the others, and they’d follow up the investigation. With Coyle dead and Barrow out of the running, Gabriel was the last suspect. By all rights, she should bag him and take him back to Chrome.

Those were her orders.

“What I wouldn’t give to be in that head of yours,” Gabriel murmured. She still hadn’t answered him, and the reality of their situation settled like a dead weight in her stomach. She’d promised him tonight, but in the morning, she had to proceed with the extraction.

“I don’t know why I came. The simplest answer is I wanted to see you again, but it’s not that simple.”

“Fair enough.” He cupped her cheek. “Was that really so very hard to say?”

“Yes, it was.
That’s
three questions.”

He laughed, then swooped in to kiss her. Instead of being a hot, soul searing exploration of her mouth, it was a fast, scorching brush punctuated by humor. “You’re a tough nut, Copper. Give me a few more? The rules still apply.”

Wrinkling her nose, she slid her hand to his nape and stroked the ends of his hair. The faint discoloration on his shoulder—she’d given him that mark when she slammed her head into him in the parking lot. She’d never been one to mark her territory, but recognizing his toughness gave her a certain erotic satisfaction. “Are you playing me, Gabriel?”

“Personally or professionally?”

“Just answer. Either. Both.”

“We go professional this gets difficult for both of us.” The warning alone should have been enough to deter her.

“I know.” The question plagued her. She couldn’t tell. If she was truly compromised, she’d scratch herself from the assignment and tell Merc to decide. Her gut hated the idea. She trusted Merc with her life, but she didn’t think he’d have the same kind of care for Gabriel’s. “I have to know. Is this a game? A con? Are you playing me?”

“If I said no, it would be a little lie.” The blow cut off her oxygen. “I don’t want to play you. I don’t want to play anyone. I got out of the game for a damn good reason…”

“But?”

“But you walked into my classroom.”

Copper frowned. “I brought it to your door.”

“You did. I’m okay with it to a point, even if I have no fucking clue what you have going on.” They were both being so damned careful. Tension corded his shoulders and biceps. What he lacked for in mass, he more than made up for in his lean cut. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Probably as much as you aren’t telling me.” The corner of his mouth curved. “Hazard of the game.” With two fingers he traced the line of her collarbone to the cluster of scars above her breast. Hostile fire when they secured trouble spots in Kandahar. Following their path with her gaze, she waited for the inevitable question.

He didn’t ask.

From there he went to the long, pink line along the side of her breast. Knife fight in Croatia. Across her abdomen then to her hip, where pebbling left the skin rough and marked—when he arrived at those he frowned. “Gravel?”

“Yes.” No harm in answering the question. Not when she’d been thrown clear from an overturning vehicle and skidded along the hard gravel road. The bloodied hip had been the least of her worries that day.

“On your back.” Distracted or not, an order was an order.

She raised her brows, and he grinned. Unrepentant charm warmed his smile.

“Please.”

Better. Rolling onto her back, she lay still as he continued to explore. A graze wound from a mission they were never on that never existed. Melted skin in two places from burns. Most faded into her skin tone, hard to see unless they spent a lot of time looking. She’d been fortunate.

The worst of her injuries had always been on the inside.

When he went down her leg, she flattened her right foot to the sheets. His level of interest meant he might want to go for her feet. If he did, she’d distract him. The tattoo on the bottom of her foot represented her recommitment to the team. The process of having it inked there hurt like a bitch, but she chose pain over simplicity.

They were her team and, while she couldn’t get away with plastering a wall-size tattoo on her back and still blend in, she could show them they were always with her. Where she walked, the team went—
so why am I staying here?

At her thigh, he stopped and his gaze burned her with the intensity of his stare. “What?”

He rubbed his thumb over the two-inch long hilt mark buried into her skin. It fell just inside her thigh, the closest the rebel soldier in Tanzania had come to trying to rape her. Pride at the depth of the wound she’d taken filled her. He’d missed her femoral artery—barely. Stupid fucker thought the knife in her leg would keep her down.

“Five years ago in Tanzania, a mission I was on went sideways.”

“Gabriel, we’re not talking professionally…”

“Be quiet.” The order accompanied by the light squeeze of his hand irked her, but she firmed her lips. “It’s why I left field work. A group of insurgents from Rwanda and Burundi came over the border in a prolonged battle. They swept through a group of missionaries.”

Ice formed at the base of her spine and she withdrew. He really didn’t have to give her any other details. She’d been on the team sent to clean up the mess. Chrome, Merc, Tungsten, her—they’d airdropped in with three days of gear and hiked to the position. Half the missionaries were being held by Rwandan forces and the other half in Burundi. The fighters thought it was fun to use the men and women as human shields—when they weren’t raping the women. Ugly situation, and no way to cleanly extract the prisoners.

They’d gone in quiet, eliminating the opposition one at a time, clearing the way. Once they had a window in their perimeter, they were going to pull the civilians out. The problem with civilians was the panic they experienced when mortar and gunfire exploded around them. Copper had been leading them out when one of the women began screaming, alerting a half dozen guards to their position.

She’d taken the first three with clean shots, but ended up in a scuffle with the last three. Broken legs are hard to fight on, and the battle had been intense. Thankfully, some of the men in the group of captives she’d been leading proved more than capable to the task…

“I wanted to kill that son of a bitch,” he said, the quiet ferocity in his voice layered with violence. “I saw the blade go into the Marine and watched her go down. I hadn’t even realized you were a woman until that precise moment. Then you—” He’d been the CIA’s man on the ground, the man who’d gotten word out about the missionaries and aid workers being taken. His intel had been key to the success of their mission. She’d never known his name, but they’d all agreed in the debrief. Without his information, they’d have lost a lot more people on the off-book mission. The one that never happened.

She’d never been there. “Wrapped my legs around his neck and snapped it like a twig.” The blade hurt more, and she’d had to leave it in. Brad had swept her up, one arm around her to keep her on her feet as they hobbled out.

“I’ll be damned.” He pressed a kiss to the scar, the brush of his lips so tender they seemed to go deeper to press gently on her soul. Surging up, he rested in the cradle of her legs, breast to chest and blanketed her in a comfort she rarely ever experienced. “I wanted to say thank you, but you were all gone. No record of the mission. Black ops.” Understanding kindled in his eyes. “You’re a Marine.”

Was. Would always be, even if the government stripped it all away, shuffling them aside like debris to be swept beneath a rug. Rubbing her hand along his chest to his shoulder, she met his gaze. “I won’t answer that.”

“I’m not asking. I get it.” His expression softened. “Can you tell me this much—are you in trouble?”

Always
. “No.” Though the threat he presented was far different from any she’d engaged before. Falling in love with the enemy was not in her plans—
Falling in love?
Gabriel worked his way into her heart, stealing away a piece of it, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to get it back.

“You’re lying,” he said with a sigh, then rested his forehead against hers. “I know, you said wouldn’t answer it.” If he planned to finish all conversations with the answers he already knew, they might survive this.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she told him, gliding her hands up his back. Despite their conversation, his erection hadn’t diminished one iota. The heavy weight of his cock rested against her sex as though seeking entrance, and she was more than willing to play. “We only have a few hours left.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. “You’re going to be gone in the morning, aren’t you?”

“I agreed to tonight.” The spoken reminder served as much a reminder for her as it was for him. Their shared experiences aside, he had the position, the knowledge and the intelligence to pull off the double cross for Red Wolf. “I can’t promise you anything more.” Couldn’t even promise to save him from the team.

He might not deserve to be saved. Her team
had not
deserved to die. They went into firefights all the time. She knew the score. They’d known the score, but they’d trusted their orders. Trusted their intelligence.

They’d been burned.

When he fisted her hair and tugged lightly, she lifted her chin and bared her throat. The vulnerability of the position wasn’t lost on her. He could slit her throat. Smother her. Pin her down and snap her neck.

“If you plan on leaving me,” he said, the fierce note in his voice sparking a fresh wave of languorous heat. It burned in her belly and she tightened her thighs against his hips. “I want you to remember every moment, because I will
find
you. I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

“I don’t belong to you.” She whispered the words. Despite the certainty in her tone, her confidence wavered. She’d only ever belonged to one man. Did she still belong to him? He’d died. Died and left her alone. Old pain, aching and familiar, dampened her lust and she shook her head. “I don’t, Gabriel. I won’t.”

“You can run,” he told her. “But I’ll be right behind you. It took me two years to find you, five to realize who you really were. I’ve seen you now, Copper. You won’t shake me so easily.”

Threats should never turn her on, but she met his fierce kiss with a demand of her own. No more words. She was done with talking. He wanted her to say something, to offer her surrender, to give him everything, but it wasn’t hers to give. When the explosion ripped Brad out of her life, it had detonated an emotional IED and she’d never found all the pieces.

What few she’d been able to cobble together belonged to the team. Tomorrow, she might have to kill Gabriel. It would shred what little part of her remained. That was tomorrow. If tonight was all they really had, then she’d take it. Live today. Die tomorrow.

Hadn’t that always been her motto?

Chapter Eight

When the next morning came, she forced herself out of his bed. The weight of his gaze followed her while she dressed, put her gun back together and turned on her phone. Thankfully, Gabriel made no issue of her leaving.

He kept his silence until she was at the door. “This isn’t goodbye.” The absolute certainty in his statement gave her pause. Glancing back, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his blue-eyed gaze intent where it rested on her. “I will
find
you.”

“I heard you last night.” Her body hummed at the memory.

“You don’t want to believe me.”

Quite the opposite, but she refused to give him the insight. It had taken every ounce of her will to leave his bed. Wearing Copper’s armor, she made the decision. Choosing between him and her team wasn’t the difficulty. Accepting she couldn’t have both? That hurt.

“Thank you for last night, Gabriel.” Then, because she couldn’t leave well enough alone, “You should go back to your school. Go back to teaching.”

“I’ll see you later,” was his only response.

Shaking her head, she let herself out and followed the corridor to the elevator. Texting Cobalt that she was on the move, she waited for his acknowledgement then texted Plat.

Do you have him in your sights?

He didn’t ask her whom she meant. He texted back a simple,
Yes.

At the elevator, she hit the up button.
Is he following me?

One beat.

Two beats.

No.

Disappointment curled through her. Was he giving her lead time or had he been lying? The ride to the room she split with Cobalt gave her time to get her recalcitrant emotions under control. She was in work mode by the time she made it to their room. Cobalt opened the door without her using her key.

His gaze went past her to scan the hallway. “All clear?”

“Plat has him.” She dropped her bag on a chair and removed her gun to sit it on the table. “I need to shower, then I’ll change. Fill me in on the schedule.”

Cobalt leaned against the bathroom door while she turned on the water. When he said nothing, she glanced at him and raised her brows. “Did you find out anything about the men you recognized?”