Authors: Diana Layne
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Spies & Politics, #Espionage, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
“Jeff wouldn’t even consider letting me into the field.” And upon reflection, perhaps he’d been right. “He offered me a desk job. Why didn’t he offer you one?”
“I convinced him I was fine. So I went back to work. I did okay. Saved a female reporter held hostage we discovered on a recon mission.”
Recon mission, information gathering only. “So you weren’t really prepared for that?”
“No, but it worked. We’re trained to be resourceful. As you know.” He gave her a knowing look, but she felt like she was missing something.
She stared at him, trying to figure it out. “And then?”
“Sure you don’t want to have sex?”
“No, thanks, this is much more interesting.”
“Ouch.”
“You asked for it.”
“Suppose I did.” He stretched then leaned forward and rested his head on his hands.
She resisted the urge to rub his back when he started talking again.
“And then I went in on a extraction expedition and it turned into a rescue. A badly wounded female operative.”
Wounded female operative.
She knew. She just knew then.
Hang on, MJ
. Abruptly she pulled at his shirt, made him sit up to face her. “Your eyes.” She narrowed her gaze, really studied his face. The features weren’t as clear in the candlelight but she didn’t need crystal clear vision. Her third eye, psychic connection or whatever had recognized the familiarity about him from the first. “That’s why they’re familiar. It was you.”
He nodded and suddenly his knowing look and resourceful comment made sense given the way she’d been dressed in clothes made out of horse blankets.
“I can’t believe that was you. I guess you were on a job like that because . . . Keith, so you really do know about him, don’t you?”
Ben rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We couldn’t recover his body, there was another incoming, no time if we wanted to save you.”
“But you did see him, he was dead, right?”
“My partner checked him out, confirmed the kill.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, then confessed, “Sometimes in my nightmares, he’s still alive.”
“Only dreams.”
“Yeah.” It was good to finally know. Jeff had told her yes, but to have had someone see firsthand that Keith was dead. Especially when Vista had gone back and the bodies were gone. “But that was over a year ago? What happened after that? You didn’t go on a year-long bender after rescuing me?”
“If there was a time to go on a bender, after rescuing you should’ve been it. You were in bad shape, I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“I did, thanks to you.”
He tilted his head. “Told you my field dr–”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Your field dressing is better than mine.”
A leer came onto his face. “Maybe you can show me some proper gratitude.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dream on. No gratitude sex either.”
The lascivious look dropped off his face. “You take all the fun out of life.”
“Like you’re serious.”
“You don’t think?”
“No, I don’t think. You’re injured, you wouldn’t even feel like–”
“I can show you how I feel.” He took her hand, led it toward his crotch.
She slipped her hand out of his grasp before he gave any physical proof. “I don’t think so. Go on with your story. You saved me, so what happened?”
He shot her an exasperated look, said through pinched lips, “There was another one I couldn’t save.”
She exhaled.
“I was back on a regular mission, more than recon or recover. But this one was a major clusterfuck from the beginning. She was taken hostage by a suicide bomber.”
She bit the inside of her jaw. “And . . .”
“It all happened so fast. We’d been following the guy, thought we had him cornered, were making our move when he grabbed a woman, wrong place, wrong time, as a hostage and used her as a shield to go the remaining half block to his target.”
“He blew them up?”
“Yep. Inside a school bus full of kids.”
The words were abrupt, but the pain went deep.
“Damn.”
“That was one thing too many.”
“No shit. And that you’ve even given consideration to coming back after that?”
“Jeff really didn’t leave me much choice.”
“Always a choice. You could leave like I did.”
“Like you . . .
did
?”
She heard her teeth grinding in her ears. “No one likes a smart ass.”
“Even one who tells the truth?”
The night ended soon after that, MJ changing Ben’s dressing and leaving him in his bed, alone, no matter how much he tried to persuade her to join him.
As she laid on the fold-down sofa later, the same sofa where Ben had probably spoken more than he had in years, she thought of his confessions, his lost child. She ached to be back in her apartment, in her own bed with her daughter snuggled against her side. When MJ had spoken to Dottie earlier in the day, she’d reported Angelina was doing fine. And maybe she was. Living so long in a hospital, the little girl had to be resilient. It was MJ who was suffering.
Maybe by tomorrow she and Ben would figure out the connection of the dead senators and be able to predict the next move. If not, MJ would give Tasha another day before heading back to Texas, packing up Angelina and disappearing out of the country. Vista could figure out how to find Tasha without MJ. Wasn’t her problem.
Feeling like she had a little more control of her life, if it was only an illusion, MJ fluffed her pillow, closed her eyes and hoped Ben would stay out of her thoughts, and sleep would come easy tonight.
A few hours later, Ben’s scream woke her.
“Noooo!”
Chapter 15
Heart pounding, MJ fumbled under the sofa, her hand closing over the cold steel of her gun. Had Tasha come in the night and attacked Ben in his sleep?
With her Sig P220 securely pointing the way, MJ blinked to adjust her eyes to dark, as she tiptoed across the room.
She edged around the doorway.
“Don’t shoot.”
“Ben?” Light from the moon gave an eerie glow to the room. He sat in bed, a shadowy figure, staring into the distance.
“Did I yell out loud?”
She lowered her gun, took a deep breath and got her heart rate back down into just over the speed limit range. “Bad dream?”
He ran a hand through his hair and finally shifted his gaze to look at her. “The explosion all over again.”
She handed him the glass of water left on the night table. “I guess talking about it brought back memories.”
“They’re never far away,” he admitted. His hand shook when he sat the water down. Her heart went out to him. She knew what he was feeling.
What the hell.
She laid her Sig on the night table. “Scoot over.”
“What?” he asked, even as he complied.
“You need a hug.” She climbed into bed.
“Only a hug?”
“Damn you’re–”
He laid his finger over her lips, his breath warm on her cheeks. “Yeah, I know. I’m a persistent little pest.”
She ignored his act. “Just pretend I’m a teddy bear.”
He had started to wrap his arms around her but paused to say, “That takes a better imagination than I have.”
“Try it. It’s better than a bottle.”
“That’s debatable. Booze helps me sleep. You lying next to me isn’t going to help me sleep. You don’t fall into the teddy bear category. Now, maybe a tiger, or–”
“Well, if I’m not going to be a help,” she rolled over and threw back the blanket, “I’ll just go back–”
“Not so fast.” He wrapped his arms around her then, pulling her back to spoon against him. “Keep your claws in though.”
She wasn’t amused, though she realized that while she’d been the one to offer comfort, he was trying to make her feel less awkward for doing it. And it was definitely easier now that she wasn’t facing him.
Still, the sensation of being held by this man made her feel strange, in a place that felt vaguely familiar, yet at the same time totally different. Exciting, even. She held motionless while her pulse picked up speed.
It isn’t a love interest she told herself. Nothing like with Keith. Absolutely not on the same plane as Niko.
And yet with Ben she had the same urge to share things as she had with Niko.
Perhaps because Ben had shared so much of his pain with her tonight. She and Keith had never shared deep dark secrets or much of their past. The relationship burned too hot between them. And that should have been a warning she realized now.
“You know the thing about a hug?” Ben said, fortunately interrupting her thoughts before she started categorizing his attributes. But also reminding her she was in bed wrapped in his arms.
“It’s not a hug unless you put your arms around me.”
She took a breath, forced her stiff protesting muscles to relax. “Oh. I know.” She twisted back to face him. “Sorry, I zoned out.”
“You can pretend I’m Angelina.”
She managed a sound that hopefully resembled a small chuckle, feeling an odd gratitude he was making her impulsive gesture easier for her. “That would take an imagination beyond mine.” She echoed his earlier words.
“Or pretend I’m a very desirable man.”
Forget the gratitude. Typical male. “Ha. That’s even more difficult.”
“Don’t spare my ego.”
She met his gaze, found a frown marring his face. “You don’t need anyone to tell you you’re a desirable man.”
“You hide it well.”
This was getting more difficult by the moment. “Just because I don’t desire you–” The disbelief in his eyes made her cut herself short. Who was she kidding? “Oh, here.” She hugged him, a quick move so she wouldn’t be tempted to extend the moment. “Now, shut up and go back to sleep.”
He refused to let her escape so easily. He held on, keeping her arms in place around him.
“Relax.”
The advantage of being held so closely meant she didn’t have to continue to look at him. The disadvantage, of course, was being held in a man’s arms. Not something she’d envisioned, at least for the next fifty or so years.
Definitely different from Angelina. Muscles ridged his body. And while he wasn’t soft and cuddly and he didn’t smell like baby powder, but like warm hot-blooded male, holding him wasn’t bad.
Maybe even comforting. A little.
Which definitely made it bad for her. But what she felt didn’t matter. She was here for him. Think mommy thoughts. “Better now?”
He took a deep breath. “This is nice.”
He relaxed his grip. She could pull away if she wanted. This time she didn’t try. She only leaned away far enough to look at him. His eyes closed, his face no longer tight with the lingering bad dream.
MJ resisted the urge to push his hair back from his forehead. Dark and wavy, his hair was longer than hers. She wondered what that thick texture would feel like. She could make a casual, even comforting gesture to satisfy her curiosity.
She lifted her hand.
He opened his eyes.
Her breath caught at the honesty and pain, the hope and vulnerability, she saw in his gaze. She lowered her hand to his hair. She could offer solace and satisfy her curiosity at the same time. His eyes drifted closed again as she smoothed his hair back, same as she did for Angelina. It might not be so hard to get used to consoling an adult.
As she brushed her fingers through his hair, she mentally nodded. His hair was thick, slightly coarse and very appealing. Those motherly comforting feelings she’d experienced were leaving. The closeness she felt disturbing.
Move your hand. Take it away.
He opened his eyes again. This time his gaze told her he’d recognized her feelings. He looked at her lips.
She sucked in a breath. “Don’t even think about it.” The words came out soft and breathy, not nearly as effective as she’d intended. Think forceful. She tried again. “I’m only here to offer comfort.”
“Sex is comforting.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“How about gratitude?”
“Gratitude? For?”
“I saved your life.”
“I saved yours,” she countered.
“Okay, how about this? I’m a man. You’re a woman.”
Couldn’t deny that. Especially the man part. She felt his growing erection against her legs as further proof. “Since you’ve moved onto a biology lesson, you’re all better now. I can go–”
He pulled her tighter. “Don’t leave.” His tense tone drew attention to how suddenly all his muscles had tightened.
“Stay.” He took a breath. “Stay here.” His voice sounded closer to normal as he added, “I’ll be good."