06 Double Danger (17 page)

“I’d say more often than not.” She sighed, tipping back her head so that she could see him better, the street light highlighting the strong line of his jaw. “You have to take comfort in the fact that you’ve saved far more lives than you’ve taken.”

“But you know now that it doesn’t work that way.” His voice held a trace of bitterness, and she thought about how many years had passed since the carefree days of college. They’d both grown up. Simon into a warrior. And she… well, she was still working on it.

“No. You’re right.” She sighed. “It doesn’t. But if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t handle it differently. I’d still kill him.”

“And you’d still feel remorse. It’s the one thing that sets us apart from serial killers and psychopaths. We care. And as long as that’s there, then I think we have to believe we’re going to be okay.”

“But it’ll never be the same. You can never go back to the way you felt before.”

“No.” He shook his head. “But that’s not always such a bad thing either. I believe that things happen for a reason.”

“Like Ryan dying.” She could feel him tense, even though they were no longer touching.

“I should have qualified my statement.” His words were clipped, pain coloring his expression. “I should have said
most
things happen for a reason.” He looked down at her hands, his frown deepening. “You’re not wearing Ryan’s ring.”

It was a straightforward question, but the answer was far from simple. “I… just…” She tucked her left hand under her leg, searching for the right words, a feasible
explanation. One that wouldn’t demand that she bare her soul. “It was easier. Seeing it there was just too painful.”

Silence swelled, Ryan’s specter floating between them, creating a gulf she wasn’t sure they could ever cross. Maybe it was for the best. And yet, when Simon made the move to go, she reached for his hand again.

“Stay with me, Simon,” she whispered. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

He nodded, reaching out to pull her into his arms, his strength surrounding her. She closed her eyes, letting the cadence of his breathing soothe her. And from somewhere out of the mists of memory, she remembered another night—long ago.

College. Freshman year. She’d had a date for a dance with an upperclassman. A jock. The kind of guy every girl went wild for. She’d spent days finding the right dress. And on that night, she’d spent forever getting ready, wanting to look perfect. Only he’d never shown. He’d gone instead with another girl. She’d been devastated—and mortified.

But Simon had found out somehow, and he’d come to her dorm. He threatened to murder the guy. And then he’d taken her to the dance. It had been the most wonderful night of her life—the upperclassman completely forgotten. She could still feel Simon’s arms as they’d tightened around her, the two of them swaying to the music, the scent of his aftershave surrounding her, his breath warm against her cheek. He’d been her knight in shining armor.

Jillian sighed, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady cadence of his heart, the past and the present, at least for the moment, seeming one and the same.

The sky outside the window was starting to lighten, which meant, of course, that it was almost time to get up and face the day. Simon looked down at J.J., still curled up against him, her hair splayed out across his chest.

He wasn’t usually big on regret, but just at the moment, he was feeling more than just guilt. He was feeling as if he’d lost something he’d never really had in the first place. And she was still lying here beside him. He’d held her through the night, watching as she slept. Remembering the past. Wondering if he could have done something to make it all turn out differently.

But there was no pushing back the clock. Even though she’d reached out to him last night, Ryan’s shadow still hovered between them. And when she woke, she was going to remember who he was and what his rash decisions had taken from her. His heart constricted at the thought.

Ryan and Jillian had been happy. That much he was certain of. Of course, he’d stayed away as much as possible, but he’d spent a hell of a lot of time holed up in Godforsaken places with Ryan, and his friend had been fond of talking about his wife and their life together. Hell, he’d been so proud of her. How well she’d fit in as a Navy wife and how he couldn’t possibly live without her.

And Simon had smiled and agreed and never let Ryan know just how deep his jealousy had gone. How much he had wanted J.J. for himself. Jesus, he was a fucking bastard. He’d not only coveted his friend’s wife, he’d sent him into an impossible situation and gotten him killed. And now… shit, now he was holding her as she slept, thinking about how badly he wanted to bury himself inside her.

What kind of man had he become?

One who wanted Jillian Montgomery, for the girl she’d once been and for the woman she’d become. It was as simple as that.

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and her eyes flickered open. He knew the time had come for them to talk. He could see it in the shadow that chased across her face, but he couldn’t bear the idea of breaking the spell, so instead he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. They might not be able to surmount the events in their past, but right now, in this moment, he was determined to keep reality at bay for at least a little while longer.

It was selfish. But he didn’t care. He needed to feel himself inside her, to create something he could hold on to after all of this was over and she’d walked away. He’d made his choices—and there was always a price to pay, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish it were different sometimes. Especially right now, holding J.J.

He pulled her closer, relieved when she responded in kind, her body pressing tightly against his. He kissed her lips, and then her cheeks, and the tender place on her neck that made her shiver. He ran his palms over her shoulders, letting them slide along the curve of her back, and across her ass, then up again until he cupped both breasts.

She moaned low in her throat, grinding against him, and he circled each nipple with the pads of his thumbs, delighting in the fact that she responded to him so quickly. With a little cry, she opened her mouth, their tongues tangling together as their desire took control. They thrust and parried—taking and giving, every touch ratcheting up the degree of pleasure.

He traced the line of her lips with his tongue, nipping the corners of her mouth, before trailing kisses along her cheek to the soft lobe of her ear. He bit against it, feeling her respond beneath his touch. He knew her so well, and yet he didn’t know her at all.

There was something exciting in the idea. And frightening. He’d never allowed himself to depend on another person. To trust anyone on a level so intimate. And yet, here he was nearly unmanned by just the feel of her body moving against his.

Cradling her in his arms, he carried her into his bedroom and laid her against the sheets. Together, they pulled off their clothes, laughing in their haste, their need making them clumsy. And then she was reaching for him, her blue eyes clouded with passion, her body waiting and ready.

He straddled her, his gaze holding hers, as he allowed himself to simply drink in her beauty. And then she twined her arms around his neck, and he was lost. Bracing himself over her, he rubbed a knee against the moist juncture between her thighs and then bent his head to savor her breasts. Kissing first one, then the other. Teasing her with his tongue before finally taking her into his mouth and biting her nipple, her responsive cry almost his undoing.

He tasted the other nipple and then trailed kisses along her stomach, tracing the soft skin between her thighs, finally allowing himself the pleasure of tasting her, his tongue thrusting where he longed to follow, sucking and pulling, nipping and teasing until he felt her rise off the bed in her release.

He slid upward again, lying with his head cradled
between her breasts, content for the moment just to listen to her heartbeat. But then with a slow smile she moved, and they flipped over so that she was straddling him. Her fingers circled him, moving up and down, the sensations washing through him on a wave of pure pleasure.

She teased him with her hands until he couldn’t stand another minute, and in one deft move he lifted her, thrusting inside her, the wet, hot moisture surrounding him. Grasping her hips, he moved her up and down, setting the rhythm. And with a tiny smile, she braced her hands on his shoulders, pulling upward so that they were almost disengaged and then slamming home again with a force that threatened to send him spiraling out of control.

But he wasn’t ready to surrender, and bending his legs, he pulled up to a sitting position, cradling her against him, rocking slightly so that he moved inside her, the motion sending her squirming against him.

He smiled, kissing her cheeks and her eyelids, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples, each movement designed to move them closer to the edge. Then he kissed her. And with a moan, she pushed him back again, pumping hard against him, the exquisite pain building inside him until he was meeting each and every thrust with one of his own, the two of them driving together, reaching out for that moment of bliss.

And then it was there, the intensity electrifying, and he knew that even if he never had this moment again—he would cherish it always.

Jillian zipped her jeans and then pulled her sweater over her head. Simon was still sleeping, looking younger in repose. More like the boy she’d fallen in love with all
those years ago. But last night had been an aberration—a one-off. A new memory for her to hold in her heart.

Yet even as she had the thought, she knew she had to let him go. There was too much between them. And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to deal with the possibility that if she told him the truth about Ryan, he might choose to reject her—again. Better to cut her losses now, get out before it had the power to hurt her.

“Going somewhere?” His voice was thick with sleep, and she shivered as she remembered the power of last night’s shared passion.

“We need to get downstairs. There’s work to be done. And people will talk.” It sounded priggish, and she suppressed a smile. She wasn’t at all worried about what the other members of A-Tac thought. She just knew she had to get out of this room before she let herself get in any deeper.

Simon sat up, the muscles in his chest rippling with the movement, his eyes dark with emotion, and she swallowed reflexively, taking an involuntary step backward.

“You’re not going to solve anything by running away,” he said, his gaze pinning her to the wall. “We need to talk.”

She nodded, moving cautiously to sit on the end of the bed. Not sure that this was a good idea, but pretty certain that she didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and besides, her legs probably wouldn’t support her anyway.

“Look,” he started, then stopped, staring down at his hands, clearly at a loss for words. The silence stretched for a moment, and then he sighed, lifting his gaze to meet hers again, the pain reflected there almost taking her breath away. “I know you blame me for what happened to Ryan.”

“What are you talking about?” Surprise made her voice sharp. She hadn’t expected him to say that. “I don’t blame you.”

“Well, you should,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Because I was the one who got him killed.”

“He was killed by an enemy combatant. During the raid in Somalia. I have a letter. And they talked about it when he received the medal of honor. Bravery during a firefight.”

“Well, there’s more to it than that.” He leaned forward, regret creasing his face. “A lot more.”

She studied the line of his shoulders, the slant of his head, forgetting about her own problems for the moment. This was clearly eating him alive. She wanted to reach for his hand, to soothe him somehow. He was close enough that she could feel his breathing, but she dared not touch him. Not if she wanted him to talk.

“So tell me what happened.”

“On paper it was a pretty simple operation.”

“You’re talking a Navy SEAL team,” she said, working to keep the emotion from her voice. “Nothing you guys do is ever simple.”

“True.” She could see his face soften just a little as he smiled. “But this one shouldn’t have been that hard. We were tasked with extracting two journalists being held hostage in Somalia. Just a quick in and out. Our recon indicated that the building was only minimally fortified. We came in on two choppers. Sixteen in all. It turned out there was over double that number waiting for us once we’d landed.”

“I thought you said—”

“Yeah, famous last words. I still don’t know how we
got it so wrong. But by the time we figured it out, we were already on the ground. I was in charge of the mission, which meant that once we realized what we were up against, it was my call whether we stayed or we aborted.”

“And you chose to stay.”

“The journalists were innocent. And they were women. And all I could think about was what might be happening to them. So I made the call.”

“You couldn’t have just left them. Not after coming so close.”

“That was my logic. But I never stopped to think about what the cost was going to be. I was so focused on the objective that I forgot about collateral damage. I sent half of the men, with Ryan in charge, into the building, while the rest of us tried to hold the attacking enemy back. I figured it was our best option.”

“So what happened?” she asked, still wanting to take his hand, to erase the pain etched across his face.

“There were more men inside. Almost as many as there were outside. We tried to close ranks, but I’d effectively split us in two. Somehow Ryan and his men managed to get the women freed. The two of them came running out the front of the building, bullets still flying everywhere.”

“And Ryan?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear it again, to relive the horror of his death. It only made her feel more confused and guilty. But Simon needed to say it out loud.

“He never came out. None of them did. And I didn’t have the manpower to go in after them. Not with the journalists caught in the crossfire. They were my mission. So I made another choice. I left my men there to die. I sacrificed them to save those women.”