Personal Target: An Elite Ops Novel (10 page)

“Any idea why they were shooting those people?” asked Hollywood.

“None,” answered Nick. His deep voice under her ear echoed inside her chest, even as she recoiled from what he was saying.

“Think it had anything to do with our visit?”

She could feel the motion of Nick shaking his head. “No one knew we were coming besides AEGIS and Leland’s contact. I can’t imagine anyone would have gone to all that trouble just to get to you or me, but the house was deliberately targeted.”

He seemed so matter-of-fact about it. Mia was dead, lying back in that house’s entry hall in a puddle of blood. Jennifer twisted the ring around her finger that the child had given her. Other women she’d seen only in passing were dead, too. She shivered, and Nick pulled her closer.

“Why would you kill everyone in a private brothel if you were after just one or two people?” asked Nick.

“I suppose it would depend on the one or two you were after,” said Hollywood.

Nick shook his head. “It looks to me like someone was after Tomas Rivera. Or trying to start a war.”

N
ICK HELD ON
to Jennifer as Bryan drove through the dark countryside. His insides churned at the thought of that child shot dead in front of them. He couldn’t get Jenny back to Dallas soon enough, away from him and the mess that was his life.

Holding her in his arms was not good for the emotional distance he was desperate to establish. Their forced “intimacy” was playing hell with his libido and his head. Within minutes of leaving town, they had turned onto a potholed road that threated to rattle the engine out of the vehicle and her butt directly into his lap.

After ten minutes of fighting the inevitable, he gave up on trying not to think about how good it felt to hold her again. He worried she was too still and too silent, but his body had no discernment with this woman. His dick didn’t know the difference between holding as comfort and holding as a prelude to sex.

They wove through dense jungle before the Jeep emerged near the airstrip, and Bryan parked by the plane. Jenny sat unmoving, even when Hollywood got out and began uncovering the Cessna.

“It’ll take about ten minutes for Bryan to ready the plane,” Nick explained, trying to keep everything quiet and even-keeled. Still, she didn’t move or speak.

He touched her face. “Jenny, let’s get you cleaned up. There’s an old well here. We’ll get some water, and at least get the blood off your legs.” He reached into the duffel bag by their feet and pulled out the dark T-shirt he’d worn on the trip down.

“Who’s Bryan?” she asked.

He stopped, realizing that he’d never identified Bryan by anything other than his nickname. “Hollywood,” he said.

“Oh.” She nodded woodenly and took Nick’s hand as he helped her out of the vehicle.

Together they walked to the old-fashioned pump that held a bucket beneath the spout. He rinsed the T-shirt so she could have something to wash with, filled the bucket, and helped her out of his bloodied button-down. Initially, she wasn’t moving or helping. When the cool well water hit her legs, she seemed to wake up and took the T-shirt from his hands.

“Thanks, I’ll be okay,” she said.

He turned to give her privacy, and remembering he’d brought clothes for her, he went to retrieve them from the Jeep and to put on a shirt himself. He returned moments later to find her scrubbing her arms and legs in a frenzy.

She was still wearing the thong and bustier he’d first seen her in, but they were soaked through—lace and satin clinging to her skin. He watched a moment, not knowing how to help her, stepping in only when she took an entire bucket of water and splashed it over her torso.

She was crying now, and he could hear her gasping in great gulps of air. She was on the verge of completely melting down. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but instead, he pulled the camping towel he’d had the forethought to pack and wrapped it around her before setting her away from him. Emotionally drowning, he was desperate to save himself. If he held her while she was like this, it would be over.

Still sobbing, she tried to dry her body, but she couldn’t coordinate her movements and eventually stopped to just stare at him. The clouds from earlier had cleared. Moonlight glistened in the droplets of water on her shoulders and chest.

The wet lace was transparent, and she might as well have been nude for all the modesty the clinging satin provided. Tears covered her face, and the devastation in her expression pulled at him, driving all thoughts of self-preservation aside.

He couldn’t
not
reach for her, and finally pulled her toward him. Her skin was icy to the touch as she clung to him—soggy, shivering, and weeping. He held her as the moisture soaked through his clothes, but he didn’t care. Having her in his arms felt so damn good. He’d hold her as long as she’d allow it. Gradually, she quieted and took a deep breath.

“I’m okay now. I’m sorry, I never cry. It’s just—” She hiccupped.

“Don’t apologize.” He stepped back, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “Just get changed. We’ve gotta get out of here.” God, he had to get her dressed, get her home and away from him. He was coming apart, losing all perspective, and he’d been with her for only a little over an hour.

She nodded. If she noticed the brusqueness of his words, she didn’t show it. She simply followed his instructions, stripping down to nothing with zero modesty and no warning before taking the clothing Nick handed her.

He had grabbed stuff from Marissa’s locker at the office, assuming Jenny would rather borrow clean underwear than go without. There were camo pants and a woman’s dark T-shirt, too.

He tried to avert his eyes and succeeded for the most part. But given the transparency of her lingerie, there wasn’t much that he hadn’t already seen. His memories filled in the rest of the detail. Still, he turned his back as she pulled on the borrowed clothes. He was desperate to get his mind off his cock and back on the task at hand. She wouldn’t be safe until they were off the ground.

Moments later, they were on the plane. Five minutes after that, they were in the air.

Getting Jenny to the safety of the U.S. border was predominant in his head. How he would keep her safe once they were there, he had no idea. But the first order would be getting himself as emotionally distanced as possible. For now, he was focused on getting her back to Dallas and secured. He’d never have to see her again after tonight, if that’s what he wanted. AEGIS could help him set up security for her. With his head this messed up, there was no way to keep her safe and keep his sanity, too.

She was too distracting. Too tempting. Too dangerous.

It was almost six
AM
when they landed in West Plano at the residential airpark. Exhausted from her ordeal, Jennifer had fallen asleep as they flew. She hadn’t spoken once during the flight. Nick knew because he’d watched her sleep and spread a blanket over her when she’d shivered.

When he wasn’t studying her as she slept, he’d turned the dilemma over in his mind of how to keep her out of harm’s way while also keeping his distance. He knew it was possible, he just wasn’t sure how he would manage it.

She woke when the wheels touched the ground. The neighborhood was peaceful when Bryan taxied the plane to the garage under the house. Nick helped Jenny out of the plane while Hollywood did the post-flight procedures.

“I’ll lock up. I’ve got to talk to one of my contacts,” said Bryan.

Nick nodded and led her upstairs. She was still too quiet and asked no questions; she simply followed where he led her. He paused in the den to pour her a generous scotch, the same brand she’d introduced him to the summer they spent together. After that, he’d adopted the drink as his own, but he had never acknowledged the significance of his choice.

Wrapping her fingers around the glass, and without stopping to consider the implications, he took her to his room: the master bedroom suite. She was shivering again by the time they got there, and he turned the hot water in the oversized shower to full blast. She sipped the drink as he set clean towels out on the countertop along with his own robe.

He could feel her watching him and fought the urge to touch her. The bathroom had never felt small before, but tonight—with the steam, the pounding water, and the faint scent of her scotch—he could feel the walls closing in on them both.

His body was drawn to hers as if they were magnetized. He wanted to blame the feelings of intimacy on the setting, but knew it was more than that. He had to get out of here, or he was going to screw up.

“Will you be okay?” he asked. “I’ve got your purse from Angela and Drew’s house in my office. I’ll leave it in the bedroom while you shower.”

She didn’t speak. She just stared at him with eyes that seemed bigger and more luminous in the foggy bathroom.

“Call me if you need anything.”

She didn’t answer, even as her face filled with a sorrow and devastation he understood but couldn’t fix. There was nothing for him to do but leave. If he didn’t he was going to reach for her, and it would be all over.

He walked out and was almost to the bedroom door when he heard the shattering glass. Racing back, he found Jenny on the floor. The scotch glass was broken in the sink and whiskey was splattered across the counter. The peat and vanilla wood smoke smell of the single malt scotch liquor filled the air. He expected to see Jennifer shattered as well. But when he looked into her face, absolute fury blazed from her eyes.

“I can’t believe they killed that child. Why? Why did they do that? She was just a baby. Why kill any of those women?” Tears of anger and frustration trickled down her cheeks. “It’s all so senseless.”

She shook her head. At a loss for what to do, he pulled her into his arms, even as he wondered if this was what she really wanted. It was what he’d been wanting since he’d let go of her beside the well a few hours before. What he’d wanted since he first saw her in that bedroom in Tenancingo. It was exactly what he knew he shouldn’t be doing. She was weeping again, but this had more to do with anger than the sorrow and shock he’d seen at the abandoned airstrip.

Anger, he understood. The senselessness and waste of everything that had happened in Mexico made him mad as hell, too. Steam filled the bathroom as he held her. She trembled in his arms with the tumult of emotions. He kissed the top of her head and murmured soothing words in an effort to calm her, grateful he could hold her—and want her—without feeling like a jerk. Still, something changed as he embraced her, taking his touch from platonic comfort to sexual heat. When she turned her head up to look into his face, he was lost.

He shouldn’t do this. It would be so much harder to leave her after touching her this way, but he dove in anyway, kissing her before his brain had a chance to evaluate the wisdom of his actions. Her lips opened beneath his, and she brought him closer, fumbling with his clothes as he tugged at hers.

He was about to have her naked in his arms, like they’d been earlier tonight in the brothel, but this time there was no audience. With unexpected clarity, Nick realized he was right where he wanted to be when she stopped and went completely still.

Pulling away from him, she took a jerky step back, breathing hard. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I want to, but I just can’t.”

He gazed at her, trying to read the expression in her dazed eyes and clear the lust from his own. Whenever they were alone it was like this. Spontaneous combustion.

“This is a bad idea,” she mumbled, and he knew she was right.

He dropped his hands and stepped back as well, opening a gulf between them that was more than a physical distance. Her lips were swollen from his kiss. Her clothes were askew. She looked like an advertisement for sex, and he had to get out of there—immediately.

He wasn’t going to do this to himself or to her.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Sleep in here. I’ll grab some clothes and be in the other bedroom next door.”

Her eyes were unreadable. Her only response was a nod. He left without another word and swore he wouldn’t imagine the water beating on her naked body or the way it had felt to hold her in his arms like he remembered from so long ago.

He had to let that go. She wasn’t his, she never had been, and she certainly wasn’t now. The best thing he could do for her was get her out of town and to a safe house until this was figured out, and then stay the hell away from her. The best way to protect her was to make sure no one knew what she meant to him.

He yanked clean clothes from his closet before going to the guest room, determined to shower, sleep, and imagine sex with Jennifer no more. He got the cold shower right but lay awake for hours tossing and turning, thinking about her in his bed next door.

Eventually, he slept, only to dream of her body pressed to his as the water poured over them in the shower. He was inside her, pushing her into the tile wall and pulling her legs around his hips when he woke up, hard and frustrated.

Knowing that to dream like that was the road to madness, he got up and stalked downstairs to the AEGIS training gym. He punched at the heavy bag, angry with himself for his lack of self-discipline and desperately hoping he could exhaust his body enough to sleep with no more dreams.

Chapter Nine

Sunday morning

Dallas

N
ICK WOKE AROUND
eleven
AM
and looked down the hall to see that the door to the master bedroom was open. He hadn’t thought Jenny would be up yet. He pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt before going in search of her. He’d expected to find her in the kitchen or on the deck, lounging in the sunshine and the morning breeze.

Where he didn’t expect to find her was in his office—sitting at his cherry wood captain’s desk, kicked back in a chair with her feet propped up, riffling through her wine-soaked purse while talking on the landline. Her back was to the doorway, but the robe he’d loaned her was open to her thighs.

The punch of lust hit him so hard, he didn’t hear a word she was saying. He just stood in the doorframe and stared. He wanted to step back to get a grip on himself but couldn’t tear his gaze away. Then her words started to sink in.