Hard Core (Onyx Group) (13 page)

Slade shrugged.

“We booked the room next door. Take a power nap. We can take
off in the morning. You can’t run on empty. Too risky.”

Damn. He’d hoped to have Alana on her way by then. He didn’t
want to spend another night here. It only delayed what he had to do. With her
in Chicago, he’d be free to move. But, Ryden was right. If he didn’t recharge,
he’d be risking Alana’s life. They were safe for the night. Leaving first thing
in the morning would have to work. For now, he’d keep her safely by his side.

The thought of her being out of his sight caused him
hesitation. He trusted no one except himself to keep his promise to her father.
In this case, he’d have to trust his teammates to do it. It settled hard in his
chest. If anything happened to her, he would fail his promise. Not an option.
But his hands were tied. No other way to do this.

“Slade, you look like hell, man,” Ryden said. “We got this.
She’ll be fine. Go, we need you on top of your game.”

Slade glanced at Alana, curled on the sofa. He wouldn’t be
able to sleep if they were separated. “I’ll take her with me,” he said and
walked over to where she slept.

He leaned down to pick her up but a hand on his arm stopped
him. Mercer stood there, shaking his head.

“Get your hand off me,” Slade warned.

“She’s too fragile to be moved right now,” Mercer said.
“We’ll take the guy in the bed and go next door. Let her stay.”

Slade shook off his hand.

Sarver came into the room, frowning at the tension between
Slade and Mercer. “Fortier will be waiting for our call. What’s going on with
you two?”

Mercer answered. “Nothing, we’re moving next door. Alana
needs her rest.”

“Okay.” Sarver shrugged. To Slade he said, “We’ll keep you
in the loop,” before following Ryden out the door, leaving Mercer to carry the
patient.

Once they were gone, the room got quiet except for the sound
of the television. Slade clicked it off. Alana hadn’t moved from her position.
The tearstains on her cheeks brought the reality of her upturned life crashing
through him. He should move her, put her in bed and let her sleep it off, but
he hesitated. She would wake if he moved her and he didn’t want her to suffer
again so soon.

Hell.

He moved to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and
twisted the cap. Instead of taking the bed, he dropped into one of the
uncomfortable chairs across the room and closed his eyes. Damn, he was tired.
He couldn’t do anything more today, so a short nap would do him good. If
anything changed, his team would let him know.

Slade gave in to the exhaustion gnawing at him and drifted
off to sleep. He would need his strength to take Ross down.

* * * *

He woke with the sense someone was watching him. Alert, he
opened his eyes to find Alana standing over him. Her hair was half in, half out
of its ponytail and her face pale, but there was no trace of tears on her
cheeks. Wrinkled, incredibly attractive, her scrubs hugged her slender frame.
It gave him a glimpse of the woman she had once been.

“You’re bleeding,” she said, all business and back in
control.

Not sure what to expect, Slade looked down to see blood
staining his shirt and pants. Probably popped the rest of his stitches when he
carried Alana’s patient. A glance at his watch showed he’d been asleep half an
hour. Explained why his eyes felt dry and gritty.

“You can’t keep going like this,” she continued. “You were
shot and stabbed with a scalpel. You can’t be carrying people and running on
empty.”

She was in doctor mode. Professional, curt, and showing none
of the aftermath of her breakdown. It made him wary. She shouldn’t be so calm
and collected. Scarier, seeing her like this.

“I’ll change.” He began to rise, but she put a hand on his
shoulder to stop him.

“It doesn’t work that way. I need to look at that gunshot
wound. The infection may be returning.”

It hadn’t, but he didn’t tell her that. Maybe work helped
her cope. God knew she needed the distraction.

“Lift your shirt.”

Complying, Slade tugged up his shirt. She dropped to her
knees beside him and gingerly prodded the area around the wound.

“You popped your stitches,” she chided. “Does this hurt?”

Slade’s sharply indrawn breath was all the answer she
needed. She rose to her feet and looked down at him. “The site isn’t infected,
but it’s dangerously close. Are you going to continue to play hero?”

Hero? He was no one’s damn hero.

“Because if you are, there is nothing I can do for you. I
don’t have access to antibiotics.”

Slade pulled his shirt down. “Fine.”

Her lips pursed into a thin line. “No, it’s not fine. You
were shot. And stabbed. You are not fine.”

“I’ve suffered worse.” He met her angry eyes.

“I’m sure you have. A person in your line of work must run
into all kinds of trouble.”

Her tone and body language were antagonistic. She was
looking for a fight.

“Some.” He carefully navigated the minefield he’d thought
had already detonated.

“Mmm-hmm. And I suppose that includes kidnapping women?”

“What?”

“I want to go back to my home, Cristian.”

Slade came out of his chair to tower over her. To her
credit, she didn’t back down or seem the least bit afraid of him. “No.”

Her brows rose. “No? You can’t keep me here. I’m not a
prisoner.”

“It isn’t safe to go back there.”

“Safe?” she let out a bitter laugh. “I’m not safe here.
Gavin will stop at nothing to find me.”

“Exactly the reason you can’t go.”

“I have unfinished business. I…my…they need to be properly
buried.” Her voice hitched and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “You have
to let me do this.”

The desperation in her voice made him curse. He understood
her need for finality, but allowing her to see her father now would only make
matters worse for her. She had enough to deal with already.

“I can’t.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

Her chin lifted. “You’ll stop me if I try to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Then I am a prisoner.”

“If you choose to look at it that way.”

By the look she gave him, she did. Not going to make this
any easier.

“You could look at this as protection,” he suggested and
watched her eyes darken.

“No.”

“Look at it however you want. Bottom line, you’re in danger
and I’m keeping you safe.”

Something shifted in her eyes, her body language, telling
him she wouldn’t argue anymore tonight. The air changed. Electrified. More
dangerous than the man he hunted.

“Ah,” she murmured. “Tell me. Cristian, what will keep me
safe from you?”

Alana didn’t want to think anymore. Didn’t want to remember.
She wanted to forget she’d lost everyone she cared about. The island, now the
site of a massacre and home to a murderer, was the only home she knew. She had
nowhere to go.

She didn’t want to see those images. They were too raw, too
painful. She wasn’t ready to process yet.

Cristian could make her forget.

Memories of how he’d touched her flooded her body. She’d
longed for him to touch her like that ever since. Every time she looked at him
she remembered the rasp of his hands on her bare skin and the way he murmured
to her in French, the foreign lilt as tantalizing as his touch. He wasn’t so
immune to her either, even though he had called her by another name.

Right now she didn’t care what he called her, as long as he
made her forget.

Sex would make her forget. Sex with Cristian would be raw
and powerful. Like the man. He stood there in jungle camouflage. His t-shirt
clung to broad shoulders and granite muscle. Who could blame her? He was a
warrior--albeit on the wrong side of the law--but a warrior no less.

His eyes glittered when he looked at her. Her question hung
between them.

“Am I safe from you, Cristian?” She closed the distance
between them. Heat emanated from his body, warming without touch.

“What are you doing, Doc?” His voice was low, rough.

Might as well go with honesty. “I need to forget. Just for
tonight.”

Raw hunger flashed in his eyes and her belly tightened. She
reached out a hand and laid it flat on his chest, feeling his heart leap
beneath her touch.

“This isn’t what you need,” he said roughly, body rigid.

Alana looked up and met his gaze. “Stop telling me what I
need.”

“Sex will complicate things.”

“Things are already complicated.” She traced the hard lines
of his chest, marveling at the contoured, chiseled muscle. “I’m not asking for
commitment, Cristian. I’m asking for one night.”

He scowled when her hand feathered over his rippled abs and
stopped at his waistband. She looked up at him. “Are you involved?” She would
never be the
other woman
. If Cristian was with Mariette, then she would
walk away and find another way to deal.

“No.”

“Then there is nothing to stop you. Do this for me,
Cristian.” Her hand moved lower to cup his erection.

“Alana…” He growled.

“No regrets.” She pulled out all the stops. Who knew what
tomorrow would bring? All she desired was here and now. He’d started something
that night in her hut and she wouldn’t be able to rest not knowing what it was
like to make love to this hardened mercenary.

“No regrets.” He pulled her against his body and brought his
mouth down on hers.

His lips ravaged hers, angry and demanding. Trying to scare
her
.
Well, he could try, but she wasn’t easily scared. She returned the
kiss with equal fervor. The rest of her life scared her. This didn’t.

She clutched his shoulders and pressed herself fully against
him, fitting her curves into his contours, wanting to feel every inch of him.
He slid his hands under her shirt, rough against her sensitive skin, making her
shudder. Heat from his body poured into hers, warming her like a furnace.

“Too many clothes,” she whispered against his mouth, and
helped him drag his t-shirt over his head.

Within seconds they had stripped out of their clothes and
were both naked. She had seen him naked before, but not like this. Not fully
erect with hunger in his eyes. He sucked in a breath as his eyes roved her
naked body. Her body tightened in response to the slow caress.

Cristian pulled her into his arms and lifted her off the
ground. Unable to control herself, Alana wrapped her legs around his hips and
burrowed her fingers through his hair. A low moan escaped her lips at the feel
of him pressed intimately against her.

He traced a fiery path down her neck with his lips, nipped
the pulse that beat frantically, and she gasped in pleasure and pain. She’d
never wanted rough sex, but the scrape of Cristian’s teeth on her skin, his
calloused hands, his granite body pulsing against hers turned her on like never
before. Wild. Hot. Incredibly erotic, and all she could do not to come apart.

“Yes,” she gasped when he dipped his head and took a nipple
between his teeth. The sensation caused goosebumps to erupt from head to toe.
He walked backward until her back bumped against the wall.

“Please, Cristian, now.”

With a low growl, he plunged into her and drove her against
the wall. She cried out in pleasure as he filled her. Frantically, she pulled
him closer, bit down on his shoulder, and urged him on. With powerful thrusts
he obliged, surging into her with a primal grunt, giving her what she wanted.

Her orgasm came swift and hard and she cried out with its
intensity. Her climax rocked through her in waves that never seemed to end.
Cristian thrust harder and faster, as if instinctively knowing what she needed.
His climax followed hers, bringing her to the edge again, and driving her over
with the force of a tidal wave. This time she raked her nails across his back
and she bit down on his neck.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she dropped her
head down on his shoulder and waited for her breath to come back. His chest
rose and fell heavily against hers, his breath warm on her skin.

After a couple minutes, he eased out of her. She was too
weak to fight as he slipped out of her body. She mourned the loss, was empty
without him. And that scared her more than the mind-blowing sex she’d just had.

Her knees buckled as soon as her feet hit the floor and he
swung her into his arms, carried her to the bed and gently deposited her in the
center. He hesitated.

Alana grabbed his hand. “No. Stay.”

Something flickered across his face before he masked his
expression and joined her. She cuddled next to him, his body slick with a sheen
of sweat. It had been a long time since she’d shared a man’s bed. She wanted to
savor the precious few moments they had. Reality would invade soon enough.

Cristian covered them with a sheet and pulled her against
his body. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, “Sleep now.”

And so she did.

* * * *

Alana awakened in complete darkness to a hand feathering
over her navel and dipping lower to caress her with a masterful touch. She
moaned, biting down on her lip and lifting her hips to urge his hand lower to
the place she longed to be touched.

A hard male body moved over hers and teeth grazed her
nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Heat splintered through her midsection,
tension built inside her. His fingers teased her, slid along her wet folds, but
not touching where she needed.

“Please,” she whispered.

He moved lower, trailing kisses across her navel, then
between her thighs where she ached. Alana gasped when his tongue caressed her.
In her sleepy haze she moved against his mouth, her orgasm building with each
stroke of his tongue.

She came slowly, lingering, on a wave for what seemed an
eternity before she touched ground again. Cristian positioned himself over her
and she welcomed him into her body, taking him fully. Heat raged inside her
with the first long stroke. No rush to finish, no roughness this time. Each
slow, tantalizing thrust drove her to the brink with deliberate patience.

Ready to explode if he didn’t give her release, Alana
gripped his shoulders and drove against him. The fire burning in his eyes told
her he was having none of it. He continued his slow, torturous pace. It was
exquisite.

The pressure inside her threatened to overcome her, but he
wouldn’t let her go over. Instead, he continued to stroke her to the edge,
holding her there.

“Now.” He thrust deep and quickened his pace.

Alana climaxed so powerfully, dots danced in front of her
eyes.

She wasn’t sure she liked the complete loss of control. She
wasn’t sure she didn’t.

Her muscles contracted around him as he buried himself deep
within her and let out a guttural groan as his climax rode hers. He collapsed
on top of her, resting on his elbows, but his weight felt wonderfully heavy.

Minutes later, when they caught their breath, Cristian
rolled off her and pulled her against him, an arm possessively around her
waist. Sated, she relaxed against him. Better if she didn’t analyze how easily
she’d given him her trust. And she certainly wasn’t going to analyze what she
felt right now. She might not like the answers. Because falling for Cristian
Slade was a dangerous, dangerous thing.

More danger was the last thing she needed in her life.

* * * *

Alana came out of the bathroom showered but still wearing
her scrubs, since they were the only clothes she had. Her body was sore from
making love all night. Not unpleasant, but facing Cristian this morning had
been. Gone was the man who’d ravaged her body over and over until she couldn’t
think, and back was the taciturn, stony-faced warrior.

Although she woke early, she’d been alone in bed. Cristian
had already showered and put coffee on. He had been talking quietly on his
cellphone when she climbed out of bed, scooped up her clothes, and hurried into
the bathroom. She didn’t want him to see how making love had changed her and
made her long for the happily-ever-after she could never have. She had no
regrets, but it did make things a whole lot more complicated than she’d anticipated.
And not only because they hadn’t used protection. She’d never lost control like
that. Normally, she would have covered the issue of safe sex first. With
Cristian, the only thing that crossed her mind was how quickly she could get
his clothes off and take him inside her. Worth every second, but a pregnancy
scare would complicate an already complicated situation.

Why did she continue to make rash decisions where he was
concerned?

Tense, uncertain what to say, Alana moved to the coffee pot
and poured a paper cup full of the dark brew.

Cristian stood in front of the window, his back to her. He
had changed into fresh t-shirt and pants, his hair still damp. Somehow she’d
slept through his shower. Not that she should be surprised. He’d made good on
her request and kept her very busy all night long. When she’d finally slept, it
had been without dreaming. A blessed reprieve from the reality now staring her
in the face.

She sipped the coffee and leaned back against the counter.
What now? Her life was in shambles and the man who’d made love to her all night
was ignoring her. He hadn’t even glanced at her when she came out of the
bathroom. Did he regret last night?

Deciding it best not to talk about it, she cleared her
throat and asked, “Where is my patient?”

“Next door with my team.”

His team. Right. The three large, well-built men that had
witnessed her falling apart yesterday. The mercenaries.

“I need to make sure he’s all right.”

“He’s fine.”

Per his standards. She wasn’t content with that. She needed
to explain herself to him, tell him why she’d done what she had. The poor man
deserved that much from her.

“I need to see him.” Somehow, she would get Cristian to
agree.

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Neither do I, but there are things I have to tell him.”

“You’ll get the chance.”

He was irritatingly cryptic and commanding this morning.
Typical, but it grated on her already frayed nerves.

“All right, Cristian, let’s clear the air. I can’t live like
this.” She set her cup on the counter.

He turned slowly to face her, his eyes glacial. “Did you get
some rest last night?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s nothing to talk about.”

Alana glared at him. “That’s it? That’s all it was to you? A
roll in the sack so I would sleep better?”

A muscle jumped along his jaw. “What do you want from me,
Doc? You said you weren’t asking for commitment.”

“I’m not.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. The terms
were hers. He’d given exactly what she asked for. Maybe she wanted him to be as
affected by their lovemaking as her. Or maybe she was just worried and scared
that their night of passion might have conceived a child she was in no position
to have.

“Then why discuss it?”

It hurt that he so casually dismissed their night together.
What did she expect? She’d said
no commitment
. She didn’t want
commitment from a man who killed for a living. She wanted what her parents had.
An honest, open marriage full of love and respect. Cristian was not that man.

She’d wanted one night. He’d given it to her. Unselfishly.
Cristian made her feel like a woman, uninhibited and sexually aggressive. She’d
liked it. Liked herself with him. Liked what he did to her body. Liked losing
control and giving herself wholly to him.

But, he was a hired gun. Did it really surprise her he could
walk away so easily?

Confused by the ambiguous ground she walked on, Alana tossed
her cup into the sink. “Forget it.”

His phone blipped. He clipped, “Slade,” and started talking
quietly.

She didn’t try to listen, didn’t care. She needed time to
get over this.

What a mess. She wanted to be back on the island, back to
her life, back with her father. Her breath hitched at the thought and she
covered her mouth with her hand. She wouldn’t go there. Not yet. Not until she
was in a place where she could grieve properly. If she allowed it now, she
would fall apart. She wouldn’t do that again in front of Cristian or his team.
Maybe when she was out of danger and settled…where? Where would she go? She’d
left her life behind years ago. It wouldn’t be there waiting. She’d failed out
of her internship. They weren’t going to give her a second chance. There were
no second chances.