Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (37 page)

Sweeping her curves with a gentle touch, he
tried to calm her and kissed her cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m right
here. You’re safe.” Her fingers forked with his, and the tremble in
her hand eased. “Ms. Banks, you’ll never know how much tonight
means to me.” She didn’t wake, but she squeezed his hand. Although
he couldn’t help the raging hard-on pushing against her back as he
cuddled her, he was more concerned about his little mermaid. Her
dreams weren’t peaceful they were tormented, and now he knew
why.

Before allowing himself to drift off, he
waited, gazing down at her until she fell into a deep sleep.
Christmas was about miracles, and she was his. “With every cell of
my being I love you, Snow White.” He whispered the words close to
her ear, hoping somewhere in her dreams she’d hear him.

* * * *

“That smells amazing,” Thane said as Kayla
sat a cup of coffee in front of him.

“
It
’s a
cinnamon
apple soufflé.
It’s my mom’s
recipe.”

He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, and
his eyes glued themselves to her sweet, shapely ass as she walked
back into the kitchen. She’d woken him at oh-five-thirty hours to
tell him to report to the table, but his nose had already picked up
the sweet cinnamon and sugary scent in the air, and it smelled
heavenly. How she’d escaped his arms without him waking up this
morning was another wonder. He hadn’t slept that soundly in
years.

Putting her Christmas breakfast on his
number one spot of friggin’ delicious, he pulled her onto his lap
when she tried to collect his plate. She certainly was a hard nut
to crack, but that’s exactly what he intended on doing. “Well
little girl, tell Santa what you want for Christmas?” he teased.
Bringing the beautiful glint back in her eyes, his prime
objective.

She pushed her chin in the air. “How about a
very sexy, brawny SEAL sitting in my living room, with a bare chest
made of marble and totally honorable intentions?”

“I can give you three-quarters of that.”

She swatted him and placed his mug of coffee
back in his hand. “Come on, Santa, time to open the present which
is no surprise at all.”

He followed her and they sat cross-legged on
the ground around the tiny tree erected in her living room. A
profound sadness still hovered about her, but she was trying her
best to hide it from him. “You don’t stand a chance keeping any
secrets, especially presents. I’m a good guesser,” he warned
her.

“No, you’re a good interrogator.”

He shook the small box she passed to him.
“Sorry, don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am, but you can
try again next Christmas.” She darted her eyes away and the smile
he’d managed to pull from her dimmed. Ignoring a lick of dread, he
placed her present in her lap.

“Bigger than a bread box,” she said. “Can I
shake it?”

“Maybe a little,” he said, pulling the
ribbon from his gift. She truly did have the face of an angel. The
thought made Lapierre jump into his mind and he hated the guy for
coining it first. Okay, he hated the guy for other reasons, too.
Kayla’s hands drifted across the paper, feeling for clues with a
childlike curiosity.

His fingers stripped the foil wrapping from
his gift, then popped open the box. White gold cufflinks gleamed up
from a blue velvet case. The links were embossed with the SEAL
trident and the insignia of a Commander below it. “I love them,
Kayla.”

Her face brightened with a smile. “You
didn’t look at the back.”

His heart beat faster, wondering what she’d
had engraved on them. Turning them in his fingers at the same time,
the few words stilled his breathing, and his pulse followed suit.
My hero
was engraved on one, and on the other
My
heart
. Four little words had never meant so much to him.

“You saved my life in the desert.” Her eyes
rose to his. “You protected it. I never thanked you for that.” A
tear escaped, and she swiped it away quickly. She shifted
uncomfortably, and blew out her breath as if the words were the
hardest thing she’d ever had to say.

He tore his gaze from her and rose quickly,
walking straight out the patio doors to get a grip of himself.
Grasping the rail to steady his world, he looked out toward the
sea. It was never far away, and had always been his escape, but he
didn’t want to escape any more. He wanted to feel, and he did.

A warm hand caressed his back. “I’ll have it
taken off.”

“No.” He choked back the lump in his throat,
and swept his arm around her shoulder, resting his chin against her
head. Tears swam in his eyes, and he buried his face in her hair.
“I was just remembering holding you in my arms in the desert, and
you weren’t moving.” The memory twisted in his heart. “I honestly
thought you were dead. I’ve never been that scared or cold
before.”

Kayla turned and hugged him fiercely. “Come
on, Commander. Christmas is about happy moments, right?” She
brushed his wet cheeks with her palms.

“It is.” Every minute he spent with her was
memorable.

She nodded and pulled him inside. Sitting
down, she set her gift on her lap and concentrated on opening it.
Seeing she did it so slowly, it occurred to him it was because it
was the only one she had. The meaning behind that chilled his
heart.

All year, she wore the face of optimism.
Time after time she did so many things for the team. The baking,
sewing on badges or buttons that came off the guys’ gear. She’d
even babysat for them, so they could have a night out with their
wives. Helping the young boys to strengthen their reading at the
halfway house gave her what she didn’t have, children of her own to
care for. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? How unconnected she was.
How lonely she truly must be.
Because you’ve been thinking about
your fucking self.

Sliding the piece of artwork from its case,
she gasped. “Oh, my God, it’s amazing.”

She held up the original piece that caught
his eye in Japan with their one-day lay over before coming home.
Painted in muted brushed watercolors, the sky and two dolphins
played in the ocean while the sea toiled around them. They took
note of nothing but the joy of existing, and it reminded him of how
he wished he and Kayla could be. “Mace told me you collect
artwork.” He looked around at her walls. I think it should go above
your bed.” Only he would know the creatures represented the two of
them and his deepest desire.

Not prepared for her attack, she nearly
bowled him over. Kayla was in his arms again and the moment was too
precious to end. He rolled her onto her back and gazed down at her.
Lurching up, she kissed him sweetly on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

“There’s something else,” he said, reaching
into the tiny tree and bringing out an envelope.

Kayla sat back on her haunches and opened
the card to read the words he’d written late last night.

Kayla,

You are truly my Christmas angel. The warm
summer’s breath on my face. More beautiful than autumn when the
leaves change to a golden color and fall to a green covered earth.
Your heart allowed me to see the world isn’t as ugly as I’d come to
believe. My only wish is that you will always believe in me….and
you can believe that I’m going to run your ass off in the new year,
because I want you healthy, happy and near me for a very long
time.

She shook her head, grinning. Leaning back
on her palms, she eyed him. “I’m not going to make a very good
recruit.”

“The first thing I need to do,” he said,
switching to his knees, the eyes of a predator with his target in
line of sight, “is assess my objective.”

“Huh?” Her eyes rounded and she sprang to
her feet, but he had her in his arms with two steps.

“Although you do look exquisite in flannel,”
he said, wanting to follow the curving mounds of her breasts with
his fingertips, instead his lips blazed a trail down her neck. “My
mom and sister are going to kill us, if we’re late.”

“Commander, thank you.” Her voice wavered
and then she regained her composure. “I love my present.”

She turned to look up at him, her eyes so
bloody sad. He wanted to tell her he would be with her for every
Christmas from now until forever, but he couldn’t, because it might
be a lie.

“It was kind of you to stay here last night,
but now you’re going home, and I’m going to work. I’ll be all
right.”

She was tossing him out! A rebellious
cadence drummed in his chest. How the hell did this get so
backwards? “You are not staying here by yourself,” he said
stiffly.

She rounded the couch. “I made a mistake. I
probably just left the door open myself, Commander. I have to get
ready for work.”

A shudder of foreboding grew inside him.
“I’m not willing to take that chance.”

“It’s not your call,” she tossed over her
shoulder.

Fuck, this woman could piss him off to no
ends with her stubbornness. The thought of tying her down shot into
his mind, but that led to other thoughts and he ground them away.
“Like hell it isn’t,” he said, chasing her down the hallway. She
scooted around the corner, the bathroom door locking as he entered
her bedroom. He pounded on the door. “I’m not going to debate this
through a door, open it.”

The shower began to splatter on the bathroom
tiles. He groaned with frustration, for a couple of reasons.
Swinging around, he spotted a hairpin sitting on her dresser, and
worked the lock. It popped open in a second and he entered the
steamy room.

He stopped—his heart pounding loudly as he
saw the rivers of water wash down her curves. Shampoo covered her
hair and the soapy suds streamed across the peaks of her nipples,
and down the supple flesh under her breasts. Christ, she had the
most beautiful rack he’d ever seen as she arched back under the
spray of water. The thought of seductively nursing them until they
pebbled against his tongue, hardened him.

What the hell was he doing? She hadn’t
invited him in. God, he wanted to step in that shower with her.
Touch her, lick her until she came apart in his arms. The steam
dampened his bare chest, and he imagined the feel of her skin
against his. His mind saw her pushed against the wall, their hips
grinding together, filling her with his shaft, and it made his
entire body vibrate. Quietly, he stepped back and closed the
door.

Both hands threaded his hair as he tried to
control his breathing. A sword of lust stiffened him beyond reason.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he redirected his desires.
Still locked in battle with his erotic thoughts, the minutes
slipped by and he jerked, feeling her bare feet touch his. With a
slow, upward swing of his eyes, he found her standing before him in
a towel, her wet curls clutching her cheeks. He groaned audibly.
Drawing her into his arms, he swung her onto the bed. His eyes
skated to her covered breasts. “Are you testing my resistance?
Because I can assure you, I’m going to fail.”

She stared up at him, then swayed her
head.

Everything faded away except her essence.
Grasping her hands, he stretched them above her head. He’d never
wanted to tie a woman up before, but the urge almost had him
pulling away to find a scarf to do just that. “You’re going to be
late for work.”

“No, you’re going to get dressed and drive
me to work.”

“There’s only a towel between me and what I
want. That’s not much of a defense, Ms. Banks.” His breathing
intensified with the licks of passion burning the edges of his
resolve. The hell with turkey dinner, she was what he wanted to
devour. The scent of oranges and cranberries wafted from her
delicate skin and filled his senses. His lips kissed the seam of
hers to open, to taste her. She was the forbidden apple, and he
desired a bite. The hunger to sheathe himself in her shattered his
restraint. When he opened his eyes, hers looked back at him
nervously. “This connection between us is never going to go away,
Kayla. Unless one of us leaves.”

“That’s what I intend to do.”

Shrapnel, bullets, nothing could bring him
to his knees, but her words did. She wasn’t talking about today.
She was talking about forever. “What?” With one heave, he curled
her into his arms and cradled her in his lap. The towel unraveled
and she clutched it closed. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, Commander, I am. After the new
year.”

“Is this because of what I said to you the
other night? I lost my temper. I didn’t mean any of it.”

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “It’s
time for me to move on, Commander. You never wanted a woman to work
in the center. I don’t belong here. I’m screwing up your life. I
have to leave.”

“Bullshit. Is this about Lapierre? Has he
been in contact with you?” he growled.

She gave him a meek smile. “He’s always in
contact with me, Commander.”

“Goddamnit.” He slid from under her and
began to pace the room. “He wants you to come back, doesn’t he?”
When she didn’t respond, he knew he’d hit the target. “Why aren’t
you with him now? Why isn’t he here?”

“Because I told him not to. He knows what
this time of year is like for me. He understands.”

“Why does he know and I don’t?” he shouted.
He was losing it again as she sat calmly watching him.

“Because he’s not my boss.”

He grabbed either side of the doorframe,
every muscle tensed ready to rip it and the nails from the wall.
Thoughts tripped over themselves in his mind, but there was only
one thing he needed to know. She said she loved him in the desert.
Did she really? For months, he’d clung onto those words like a
drowning man. He couldn’t even look at her when he asked, “Are you
leaving because you love me or him?”

“Do you want the truth?”

He spun around. “Of course I want the truth.
I’m always looking in your eyes for it, but I can’t read your mind.
I wish I could.”