Tangled Pursuit (22 page)

Wyatt collapsed atop her, their breaths loud and ragged, their bodies heaving against one another, sweat dripping off them.

As soon as his strength began to return, Wyatt forced himself to ease out of Tal. He helped her lie down and roll over onto her back. He gave Tal a loose smile, his voice guttural. “You’re one incredible, fearless lover, darlin’. Where the hell have you been all my life?”

His other thought was that time was against them. Shortly, they were going to have to leave. It was the last thing he wanted to happen.

W
YATT SAW THE
sadness in Tal’s eyes as they got ready to leave the room. They’d showered together an hour before, and he’d made love to her one last time beneath the warm, flowing water. Tal was as sexually hungry for him as he was for her. They couldn’t get enough of one another. It was as if they were in a mating fever. She’d never experienced this with another man. She sat on the couch, pulling on her second boot, as Wyatt sauntered over.

“What time are you leaving tonight?” he asked, dreading the answer. He didn’t want her to leave him, and this mission was especially dangerous.

Tal sighed and straightened. “Twenty-one hundred.” And then she added in whisper, “This is the first time I don’t want to leave Bagram, Wyatt.”

He sat down in the overstuffed leather chair opposite her and asked, “Why?” Then he waited for the answer he was hoping for.

“Because of you . . . and this.” Tal gestured to the quiet room. “And us . . . I can’t think straight . . . All I can do is feel you, feel how hot and alive my body is, and I want you over and over again. I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here and keep making love with you until I faint from utter pleasure and exhaustion.”

“Sure, sure,” he teased gently. “Give you an hour back at your office and you’ll come down to earth in a big hurry.”

She smiled a little and sat back, hands on her thighs. “This was different for me, Wyatt.”

“What was?”

Tal shook her head. “I don’t know. It just feels different, and it’s too soon. I can’t define everything I’m feeling.”

“Good feelings, I hope?” He raised a brow, holding her troubled gaze.

“Yes. Almost too good.”

“What? You think I’m a desert mirage that’s going to disappear by the time you return off that op?” He wanted to lift her out of that kind of worry. And it was definitely there in Tal’s forest-green eyes.

“You’re going out on a DA in two days. I’m worried about you, too.”

Wyatt supposed he should have been overjoyed by her concern, but he wasn’t. He needed Tal to be clearheaded when she was on her mission. “Look,” he said soothingly, “I know my job and I know my team. I worry more about you, Tal. You’ve got a tough mission that could go sideways on you at any time. If anyone should worry, it should be me.”

She gave him a wry look. “That’s how I feel about you!
Don’t worry, I’ll be fine
—that’s
such
a SEAL saying. You guys always say ‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ and you could be bleeding out.” She gave him a disgusted look. “So don’t tell me you’re fine. Just tell me the truth. Okay?”

“I’ll always be honest with you. I just don’t want you distracted. You need to keep your wits about you.”

“Yes,” she sighed, looking around, her voice softening, “and this is why having an emotional relationship in combat doesn’t work. One or both partners will get distracted. Even worse, we could get someone who depends on our clear thinking killed.”

“It won’t happen,” Wyatt told her bluntly. “We’re black-ops-trained people, Tal. If anyone knows how to cut through distraction and focus, it’s us.” He knew she was feeling a lot, knew her well enough to read her body language and interpret the tones in her husky voice as well as those fleeting expressions that were on her face. “What else is eating at you?”

She stared at him. “I haven’t sorted it out yet, Wyatt. There’s too much going on. I wasn’t expecting this—us. You . . . I worry I’ll lose you, too, Wyatt . . .”

“I’m not sorry at all, Tal. Not for one second of what we shared or what we have.” Wyatt felt his heart tighten, and he knew damn well that her second thoughts were focused on their fragile, building relationship. If they had more time, he’d haul this woman back to bed and love her until she fainted from pleasure.

Wyatt wanted to bind Tal to him, not see her gone for one or two weeks on a dangerous op instead. But he didn’t have that choice. Their lives weren’t their own, and now, in the cold light of day, he could see her weighing what she’d done with him. She’d committed her heart to a military man. Again.

They’d been good in bed. They were good lovers with one another. It didn’t get any better than that. Wyatt believed he stood a real chance with Tal in the future, but right now, he wasn’t sure she did. He could understand her visceral fear. Brian’s death had ripped up her life for years. He couldn’t fault Tal for her reaction. All he could do was be there, be loyal to her, comfort her, be her friend and, yes, her lover.

Tal looked around and wearily rubbed her face, her hair in a single long black braid once more. “Come have breakfast with me at the chow hall?” she said.

“Sure,” he said, rising. Their intimacy, their privacy with one another, was now officially over.

When Tal rose and walked around the coffee table, Wyatt reached out, gripping her arm and gently bringing her into his embrace. She looked up, her face innocent and clean and so damned sensual to him.

“What we’ve started,” he rasped, framing her face with his hands, “is one of a kind, Tal. I know it’s new to you, and like a newborn, we need to handle it with a lot of love and tenderness. Don’t throw it away . . . Don’t throw us away for fear of losing me. I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. I’m too mean to die. And I’ve survived ops when no one else has. Don’t let that fear of loss get in between us.”

She looked up, touched his face, already familiar to her in the most intimate ways, and walked ahead of him to breakfast. The words “I love you” nearly wrenched from her tightening throat. “I’m going to do my best, Wyatt. I swear I am. But my fear is irrational.”

“I know,” he rasped, cupping the back of her head, kissing her brow. “We’ll get through this phase—together. I promise . . .”

I
T WAS DUSK
at Ops. Wyatt stood within Ops, near the doors; outside, an MH-47 helo piloted by Night Stalkers was getting ready to be boarded. The crew chief was barely discernible on the ramp, awaiting his passengers, the darkness covering busy Bagram. Wyatt had good night vision and could barely make out the copilot performing the mandatory walk around the helicopter, looking for anything loose or leaking, before he climbed back on board.

Wyatt heard a commotion behind him, and twisting around, he saw Tal with her spotter, Jay Caldwell, coming through the entrance. They were loaded down with rucksacks that probably weighed eighty or so pounds apiece. Tal had her Win-Mag .300, in a protective nylon sheath, strapped to the back of her ruck with Velcro. Their faces were painted in camouflage paint, and they both sported the floppy boonie hats worn by those going into sniper ops. They each wore a mandatory level-three Kevlar vest.

He saw the .45 in a drop holster on Tal’s right thigh, a Ka-Bar knife in a long black nylon sheath strapped around her lower left calf. He’d loved this woman earlier this morning and knew her body intimately. Right now, she was a warrior, her face expressionless, eyes focused, mouth set firmly. She was all business, and he loved her. God, how he loved her.

All day today at SEAL HQ, all he could think of each time he had a stolen minute or two was their lovemaking. His body tightened with the memory of her hands moving over him, her lips soft on his, being inside her, feeling her feminine power. Tal was one hell of a distraction from the tasks at hand. He was now spending more time thinking of her than planning his next op.

Wyatt eased from where he was leaning against a steel column near the Ops desk and sauntered in her direction. Her eyes widened for a moment, then he gave her a loose Texas grin and saw her eyes soften. Just as quickly, she tucked that reaction away. He halted in front of them.

“Jay, good to see you again,” Wyatt said, offering his hand to the spotter.

Jay smiled and gripped his hand. “Chief Lockwood.”

Tal turned to Jay. “Why don’t you go on out to the helo? I’ll be along in just a minute.”

“You got it,” Jay said, giving Wyatt a curious nod, then walking past them.

Wyatt smiled at Tal. “You look like the warrior you are, darlin’.”

“Gotta go to work and earn my paycheck. You know how it is.”

He felt her wanting to touch him, but she kept her hand on the shoulder straps of her heavy ruck. “Yeah, I do.” He lowered his voice. “How are you doing?”

Her mouth flexed. “Okay.”

Grinning, Wyatt nodded, settling his hands on his hips. “No matter what you do or don’t wear, you’re one hot babe.” He saw her lower her lashes for a moment, very sure she was blushing, but it wasn’t visible beneath the greasepaint camouflaging her face and neck.

On her hands, she wore green Nomex gloves, preventing her white skin from being seen by a sharp-eyed Taliban. “Thanks,” Tal said in a low tone, one corner of her mouth lifting. “I can’t get over that session, how wild . . . raw . . .
good
it was for both of us. I want more, Lockwood. When I get back here? You’d better reserve that sweet little hideaway for at least three nights in a row. I want you right now, so badly, I’m wet between the thighs just thinking about what we did together. I loved you mounting me from behind. Wow . . .”

“I haven’t forgotten one second of our animal round,” he rasped, his eyes glinting with arousal. “And you’ll have as many days and nights as you want with me, sugar.”

Tal gave him a lustful look. “It’s your fault, cowboy. Now all I think about is sex with you.”

He grinned, giving her a humbled look. “Listen, here’s a copy of your finalized mission,” he told her, getting serious. He pulled out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket, opened her pocket, and stuffed it in there. “Those are my radio frequency numbers. And my sat phone, which is on my body twenty-four/seven. You call if you’re in trouble, okay?”

He saw her eyes blink something back—a tear?—and then she cleared her throat. Wyatt knew Tal was touched by his consideration, but he was one selfish bastard and didn’t want her in harm’s way.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice suddenly unsteady. “You really know how to impress a girl, Lockwood.”

“Yeah, well, you’re someone I care a whole helluva lot about.”

She patted her pocket where he’d put the papers with the information on the mission. “Thanks, Wyatt. It means a lot to me.”

“Stay safe out there, Tal. Things are really fluid at the border. I checked an hour ago at SEAL Intel, and there’s been a lot of unexpected movement. Things are gearing up faster than the CIA thought they would.”

“They’ve got a drone over the border right now. We’ll be okay. I’ll be in touch with it and get its live feed via my Toughbook.” Her voice became more firm. “We’ll be okay.” And then she suddenly grinned. “But there is one thing you can do for me, cowboy.”

His heart squeezed as her lips lifted into a warm smile, and her eyes filled with an unnamed emotion reserved only for him. He liked the nickname she picked for him.

“Tell me. I’ll make it happen.”

“Could you have a banana split waiting for me when we get off this op? I’d sure look forward to having one with you.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “It’s a done deal, Tal.”

She looked out the glass doors, heard the whine of the two engines starting to come online. Tal didn’t want to buck eighty-mile-an-hour winds trying to reach the ramp at the rear of the MH-47. “I need to go, Wyatt,” she said, regret in her tone.

“I’d kiss you, but a helluva lot of gossip would start flying around this base five minutes after it happened. Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he said, opening the door for her.

Tal ducked out the entrance, the night around them. She could barely make out a pale green light within the helicopter fuselage that was left on for those boarding. Once she was in, they’d turn it off, not wanting to become a target of the Taliban mortars that sometimes fell unexpectedly on the large base. She felt Wyatt’s hand cup her elbow as he guided her toward the ramp. The crew chief was waiting for her at the bottom of it, his helmet on, mouthpiece near his lips, in touch with the pilots in the cockpit.

The whine of the engines continued to heighten until it became earsplitting. Wyatt squeezed Tal’s elbow and released it, giving her a wink. She smiled and nodded, then climbed the corrugated ramp, disappearing inside.

Wyatt turned and walked away, holding his hands to his ears to protect them from the scream of the engines. As he made his way to the terminal, he heard the rotors engaging. Inside, he stood near the Ops doors, hands on hips, watching the blades sluggishly beginning to turn. The green light was doused inside the bird, and he knew the crew chief on board would press the switch that would bring up the ramp.

His heart clenched again, because he felt danger for Tal and Jay. Things were too fluid at the border, changing hourly, and Tal was kidding herself if she thought she could possibly keep up with those unexpected, fluky changes. Fortunately, he had a copy of the Night Stalker flight plan from the Ops desk. They would be landing on the far side of the last mountain in a chain that overlooked the wide, flat plain lying between Pakistan and Afghanistan. They would have to climb at least a thousand feet to get up and over the ridge at nine thousand feet, and there was still snow on the summit. It would be tough, slow going for the sniper team. Dangerous as well, not to mention freezing cold.

Wyatt dragged in a deep breath, watching the MH-47 slowly trundle out toward the eight-thousand-foot runway. It would make a rolling start, gathering speed and then lifting off at the end of it, saving a lot of fuel that way. He couldn’t stop the feelings moving through him. Wyatt had never felt so damned protective toward anyone as he did Tal. The scent of her was still with him, even now. Damn it, he wanted Tal home safe, in his arms and in his bed, where she belonged.