Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (16 page)

“Barry doesn’t know anything, but he says
Gord does and won’t share. Like I said, it’s probably nothing.
Workplace crap.”

The Commander put the cup he’d emptied on a
table beside him. “I’m going to find her. She shouldn’t be roaming
around here on her own.”

“No, sir. She’ll come back when she’s ready.
Let’s grab something to eat.”

* * * *

Mace saw the Commander look at his watch
again, and for the hundredth time scan the crowd. The team had
consumed enough Smokies and beer in the last two hours to feed
three squads.

“Something wrong, sailor?” The gorgeous
brunette who’d hooked herself to his side an hour ago asked.

Mace adjusted her on his lap. “No,
sweetheart, we’re just missing part of our team.”

The Commander shot a look across the table
at him. The nuclear blonde who paddled upstream trying to get his
attention all night wasn’t giving in. She laid her hands gently
from time to time on the Commander’s arm, and was giving him all
the signals, but the Commander wasn’t acting like he normally
did.

“Maybe I should go look for her,
Commander.”

“Her?” the brunette asked, raising a brow.
“If she works with you, she must be built like a moose,” and she
giggled.

He ignored the twenty-one year old on his
lap.

“I’ll take a wander around,” the Commander
said, raising his large frame from the table. “Excuse me.” He
nodded absently at the blonde.

The blonde didn’t bother to hide the ticked
expression crossing her features. Time spent and wasted, Mace
thought, grinning to himself.

The Commander pulled out his cell phone.
“Yeah, room three-oh-five.” He waited then snapped it shut,
scanning the surroundings again. The enormous tent was brimming
with people, and more waited in a line to get in.

“Not in her room, huh?” Mace said.

“Where’s the Commander going?” Tony asked,
swaggering up to them with a beautiful redhead in his arms.

“He’s going to look for Snow White.”

“Then he’s going in the wrong
direction.”

The Commander stopped and turned. “Where is
she?” he said gruffly.

“Over there. She’s ripping up the dance
floor.”

There was no way to tell whom she was
dancing with, but men circled her, and it looked like all of them.
The Commander glared at her, and if she didn’t feel the burn of
that stare, nothing would hurt her.

The Commander’s eyes shot to the blonde who
watched him with half-hooded lids, the sexual innuendo pooling on
the table, but the Commander’s thoughts were misdirected and Mace
knew it. As the Commander zeroed in on the blonde, Kayla suddenly
appeared.

“Hi guys.” Her eyes drifted immediately to
the Commander and the blonde.

“Where ya been, Kayla-girl?” Fox yelled over
the music, lifting a pitcher of beer into the air. “It’s time you
did some serious drinking with us.”

“Working off some extra calories,” she said,
laughing, but the laugh didn’t reach her eyes as the blonde reached
for the Commander.

“Hey, why don’t we hit the deck,” Mace piped
up and stretched his arm over the table, grabbing the blonde and
lifting the brunette off his lap. “Come on, ladies, I wanna see
what you got.”

“I don’t feel like dancing,” the blonde
said, pinching her sharp features into a snarl then ran her long,
pink polished nails down the Commander’s chest.

Mace didn’t miss the fact the Commander had
started to drink more as the night marched along, getting more and
more agitated with every hour. The look in the Commander’s eyes
said he was about to tear into the blonde. He should just let it
happen, but…“Don’t do it, sir. You do, and you’ll regret it,” he
warned in a low voice. The Commander glared at him. “Snow White
come here,” he waved her over, and she wove her way between the
chairs.

“What’s up, Ssssniper?”

Yeah, she’d had a few all right. “The
Commander here needs some dance lessons.” The blonde shot him a
scathing look, tucking her body tight against the Commander’s.

Kayla threw her hands on her hips. “Dance
lessons? That I can do.” She reached her hand out, and the
Commander grasped it immediately, following without a single word
of resistance or a second look at the other woman. Mace watched
them disappear into the crowd. Jealousy and acceptance swirled
inside him. He should probably shoot himself the next time they
were out on deployment.

* * * *

“Where have you been?” he asked. The music
slowed down and the Commander wrapped her in his arms, pulling her
a little roughly against him.

“Why? Did ya miss me?” she shot back,
grinning up at him. She’d lost count of how many drinks she’d
thrown back, but enough to brazenly meet his eyes. Warmth swarmed
through her as she pressed against his hard body, and by God, it
was as firm as it looked.

He cocked his head at her and gave her a
stern look. “This place is filled with guys who’d love to take
advantage of a beautiful woman.”

“Well, then, I’ve got no worries,” she said,
flopping her hands out, palms up. “They felt sorry for me, and I
didn’t have to buy a single drink tonight.”

A full-on scowl stiffened his jaw. “Where
were you?”

“Not cramping your style. You didn’t need me
tagging along.”

“Kayla, why do you always insist on going it
alone?”

She slid her arms around his neck.
He
isn’t so tough
. “I don’t think you need any dance lessons, you
dance just fine,” she said, ignoring his other question. The
flutter in her heart wasn’t betrayed in her voice when his look
turned into a glare. Thank God, she was half-cut.

The desert grew chilly in the evening, but
the goose bumps rippling across her skin weren’t from the night,
but from his large palm as it brushed against the bare skin at the
hollow of her back.

Bloody hell, there was that terrible sour
feeling in her chest again. It pierced right through all the
alcohol. The look in his eyes hardened. Maybe he was sorry he’d let
her come. “You always look at me like you hate me. If you want me
to leave the Command center, I will. If you don’t think I belong,
I’ll put in a transfer,” she spurted, looking away.

A gust of air left the Commander’s lungs as
his hand slid up her back, and through her curls. “I don’t hate
you, Kayla,” his chest expanding with deep breaths.

She swallowed hard. The song ended and she
backed away from him, feeling like a total fool. Sounding like some
bratty twenty-year-old did nothing for her cause. “Good night,
sir.”

“No, Kayla, don’t walk away from me, again,”
he commanded.

Denial and desire mixed in his light blue
eyes. His muscled forearm slipped around her waist and drew her
tight. “I—I think I should,” but it came out like a breath of air.
A wave of heat tingled in her toes and quickly rushed through her
body. She’d wondered more than once what being in his arms would
feel like. Now she knew, and it scared her. Twenty years had passed
since she’d felt sensations as strong as this. An aura like his
could enchant any woman, and she’d fallen as well.

He barely shook his head, his full, strong
lips coming closer, their gazes spellbound.

Her airway closed off.
Oh, God.

“Snow White, Snow White.” The team started
to pound the table.

They both jumped apart, the chant breaking
their hold on each other.

“Who the hell is Snow White?” the singer on
the stage asked.

“Show ‘em what you got, Snow White,” Tony
yelled, jumping on his chair, calling across all the heads that
filled the Beer Garden.

The Commander gently nudged her along,
making a path for her through the people. As he released her, his
hands sensually slipped across her shoulders, and his warm breath
kissed her ear. “Sing for me, sweetheart.” Her heart pounded in her
chest, not because she had to sing, but because of what he had
called her.

“You’re Snow White, huh?” the hottie on the
stage said, smiling down at her.

She planted her hands on her hips and stared
up at him. “Apparently.” The racket from her team’s table started
to catch and the place started to jump. The guy held his hand out
and she grabbed it, hoisting her up onto the two-foot high stage.
“Why don’t we turn it up a notch?” she called out.

“What’s it gonna be?” he asked.

“How about helping me out with
On the
Floor
, by Ms. Lopez.”

“Whoa, you don’t fool around, let’s do it,
girlfriend.”

The band started the song, and people
bulleted for the dance area in front of the stage. A spark ignited
inside her, flared and then an explosion filled her as the music
lit up her soul. In the past, her love for music had saved her
life. It was the only thing she loved that hadn’t been taken from
her.

* * * *

Thane returned to the table, but he didn’t
sit. On the stage, his little mermaid transformed. Her vocals shook
the crowd, but this time she let loose, and the place went
absolutely crazy when her body undulated to the music as the beat
rose like an approaching orgasm. The guy on the stage with her
couldn’t hide his surprise, and together they blew the canopy off
the place.

Kayla’s gorgeous body gyrated, her hips
swaying with the music. The crowd—in unison—thrust their arms into
the air toward her in rhythm with the beat. The entire place moved
with her. Kayla took them higher, running her hands through her
waves of hair leaving it in sexy disarray, her eyes on fire. There
couldn’t have been a man in the place who didn’t want to claim her,
because he sure the hell did. Raising his fingers to his lips, he
whistled. The team joined in, cheering their girl on. He leaned
over. “That’s my girl, and she’s goddamned beautiful, Mace.”

The song ended and the crowd roared with
applause, begging for more. But typical Kayla, shook her head and
was going to jump to the ground when the singer of the band stopped
her. “Not so fast, Snow White. One more for the road,” he said,
blowing a kiss at her, and giving her the stage.

“Okay, one more.” She put her hand up to
shield her eyes, looking into the crowd. “This one’s for my team.
They’re brave, their acts of valor are never forgotten, and I’m so
proud to work with them. I love them all.” She cleared her throat
as the place quieted down. “I pray that my men, and all of you who
fight an endless battle always come home safe to the ones you love.
If there was ever a song that held a prayer, this is it.”

Mace looked over at him. “Maybe she loves
one of us a little more, Commander.”

His eyes never veered from his little
powerhouse on the stage. “A man couldn’t be that lucky,” he
muttered. And obviously no man had been, since she’d managed to
walk through thirty-plus years of life alone. He couldn’t
understand it.

When the music started, he knew exactly what
song she was going to sing: a hit made famous by Andrea
Bocelli
—The Prayer
.

When the first words left her lips, the
audience stilled.

Kayla slid from the stage and wound her way
through the crowd who gaped with awe as she passed. Transitioning
between English and Italian with perfect resonance, she wandered
amidst the tables. Near the center of her audience, she reached the
pinnacle of the song, and he saw tears in people’s eyes.

Her gaze found his, and stilled his heart.
Slowly, she approached him, her voice pulling the perfect notes
with power from somewhere inside her. The song came straight from
her soul and struck his with a painful force, shattering it.

When she reached him, his arm snaked out to
curl around her waist and pull her between his thighs. The feel of
her warm skin on his fingers, her voice filling the air with sweet
magic made his heart sail into an open sea. Her final note and her
eyes riveted him. When the song ended, he drew her to his chest and
without even thinking twice, claimed her mouth. Passion seared
through him. She seared through him.

“Now that’s one lucky bastard,” the lead
singer yelled to the crowd, who were on their feet applauding. Not
wanting his audience to cool down, he immediately rolled into a
rock song from the eighties.

Surrounded by the team, yet separated from
the world, their kiss deepened to a frantic pitch. He had to get a
grip, but his grip was on the only thing that mattered to him. An
electrical storm of need grew between them, and Kayla incinerated
his belief that his heart was forever buried—to ash.

Slowly, she drew away from him. The light in
her eyes when she’d sung dimmed and before him was the same
beautiful, humble woman she always was. The team careened around
them, but for one exquisite moment, their gaze locked the world
out, and it was just the two of them. He would have given all he
owned, his soul, everything—to stay this way with her.

Kayla melted into the crowd. When he spotted
her again she was weaving her way through the throngs of moving
bodies on the dance floor. She was leaving—again. He watched until
she disappeared into the darkness, and yet he could still see her,
like you see the sun behind closed eyes after looking directly into
it.

“Oh-seven-hundred hours tomorrow at the
hanger,” he called over the music at Mace.

Mace gave him a nod. He flipped a leg over
the cheesy plastic picket fence surrounding the gardens, and headed
with long strides to catch up with Kayla.

In no hurry, her steps lazily meandering,
she made for the front gate. “Hey,” he said, reaching for her. She
refused to look at him, instead, she crossed her arms and stared at
the sand. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No worries, Commander.”

“You have the most amazing gift, Kayla.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you heading back to the hotel?”

She nodded.