Someone Like Her (21 page)

His eyes flicked to the condom and then back to her. “You’re wondering what every woman wonders at the sight of a condom in her man’s wallet. Am I wrong?”

Her man
. She liked the sound of that, especially since he’d given himself the label. Her silence apparently verified his guess because after he rolled the condom on, he took both her hands in his.

“Listen to me, Maria. For as long as we’re together, I’ll never cheat on you. That’s my promise to you. I can’t see into the future, but I hope it’s for a long, long time.”

It wasn’t a marriage proposal, or even an “I might be falling in love with you,” but she believed him. And maybe, just maybe, it was the beginnings of love on his part.

“Fuck me, Jake.”

A slow-forming, wicked smile curved his lips. “I love it when my woman talks dirty.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

M
y woman. Her man.

Some kind of milestone had just passed between them and although Jake knew she wanted to hear words of love, he just couldn’t say them.
That he felt them, he’d accepted. But he’d created this scenario in his mind of a special night where he romanced her and led up to telling her.
This was a first for him and he didn’t want to mess it up. There would be dinner at the most expensive restaurant in Pensacola—where that was, he didn’t know but he’d find out—and there would be flowers, maybe a walk on the beach in the moonlight. An engagement ring? That one, he hadn’t decided yet.

The other thing stopping him from promising her anything was his upcoming mission. He just had a bad feeling about it, one he couldn’t shake. If something happened to him, if he was killed or, worse, maimed, he wouldn’t have her obligated to him. She was too beautiful, too special to be reduced to a life of playing nursemaid.

So he would wait.

He lowered himself over her, taking his weight on his elbows. “Hang on for the ride of your life, Chiquita,” he whispered next to her ear. Her legs immediately wrapped around his hips, and her arms circled his neck in a death grip.

With his body, Jake tried to show her that he loved her.

Weren’t women supposed to like talking after sex? Jake smiled as he memorized how sweet Maria looked asleep, tucked up under his arm. Her hand rested over his heart as if even in sleep she needed to know it still beat. Well, it did. For her.

He dozed off, his mind already on the coming days and wanting them over so he could come back and tell her how much he loved her. At three, he slid down the bed and woke her with his tongue. He didn’t have another condom so he couldn’t bury himself in her slick heat like he wanted. But he pleasured her until she screamed his name. It was the sound he would take with him.

When they got married and had kids, he’d need to build a soundproof bedroom. If they got married.

When her turn came—or was it his?—she slid down his body and teased him with her tongue before sucking him into her mouth. He came with a force that had him reeling, and the words he’d been holding back almost escaped.

Just in time, he stopped them.

Exhausted and sated, he slept a few more hours while holding her in his arms. At six, he eased out of bed and groped around in the dark until he found his jeans. Slipping them on, he quietly walked outside and pulled his cell out of his front pocket, punching in Logan’s number.

“I’ll have her at the safe house in two hours. I assume Saint’s there, waiting.” Even though Fortunada was once again in jail, he knew Kincaid wouldn’t allow her to be without a guard again until she was back home in Pensacola. Jake was damn glad she’d be in good hands. It was the only reason he’d be able to walk onto a plane that would take him almost seven thousand miles away from her.

A long pause followed before Kincaid answered. “Yes. When you get back, we need to talk.”

The boss wanted to know his intentions, but that was between him and Maria. “No, I don’t think we do.” He clicked off and went back inside to wake her.

Jake studied the weapons spread out on the rickety table, every instinct screaming at him to dump all this shit in the trash and return home with his team. Har-Shaf had managed to get everything on their list, all right. Problem was, it was all just that—shit. There wasn’t a piece on the table in decent shape, not a thing had been taken care of the way weapons should be. He picked up one of the AK-47s and slid a finger over the rusted trigger. The thing was just as likely to explode and kill one of them as it was a bad guy.

“Let’s see what we can salvage here,” he said. “Where is Har-Shaf, anyway?”

The condition of the weapons was worrisome. Har-Shaf had never let them down before. Of course, with the way things were in Egypt these days, it might have been too dangerous for Har-Shaf to put his hands on the best toys.

“Haven’t seen him since he dropped us here and said he’d go get some food. That was yesterday morning,” Stewart said as he and Bayne pulled up stools and went to work.

Har-Shaf had spooked, and the blame for that belonged to him. If he’d stepped off that plane when he was supposed to, Har-Shaf would now be sitting in this room with them. Hiding his unease, he settled down next to Bayne, picked up a handgun, and began to clean it. Bayne’s nerves were showing and that concerned him.

Jake glanced at the empty kitchen shelves. “So there’s nothing to eat in the house?”

“Nope, not even running water. We didn’t want to get into our MREs, so I slipped out last night after dark and managed to find a little store,” Stewart said. “Got us some food for dinner and breakfast this morning, but didn’t want to load up with too much and draw attention.”

Jake didn’t insult Stewart by asking if he’d made sure he wasn’t followed back to the house. The house wasn’t safe, though, not with Har-Shaf unaccounted for.

“I’m thinking it’d be a good idea to move,” Jake said.

Stewart nodded. Bayne stayed silent, keeping his eyes on the gun he was cleaning. Bad vibes. Oh, yeah, Jake was having them. He stood and squeezed Tennessee’s shoulder. “I’m gonna call the boss, get us a new safe house. You got any special request? You know, maybe a house where there’s a harem of belly dancers waiting for us?”

The chuckle Tennessee gave was forced, and Jake exchanged a glance with Stewart over Bayne’s head. It was too late in coming, but they both realized their teammate had no business being on this mission. Jake grabbed the bag with the satellite phone and went into one of the bedrooms, closing the door behind him.

When the boss answered, Jake got right to the point. “Har-Shaf’s MIA. You hear anything from him?”

“We sent him a message telling him when to pick you up at the airport. No response. You’re telling me he wasn’t there?”

“He didn’t meet me. Had to find my own way to the house. Our man’s not been seen since he dropped Ste . . . Elaine and Tennessee off at the safe house and said he was going for food. We need a new hidey-hole.” He’d almost broken the cardinal rule by saying Stewart’s name over a phone, even an encrypted one.

There was a long pause and then, “I’m on it.”

There was much unsaid in that pause and Jake knew it. The boss wouldn’t have missed his near slip. Did Kincaid blame the disappearance of Har-Shaf on him for not getting on that plane when he was supposed to?

“We might have one other problem,” Jake said.

“What’s that?”

“Tennessee’s on the verge of shutting down.”

“Not what I want to hear. We put him through the psych tests and he aced them.”

Jake walked to the window, lifted a dusty curtain, and peered out. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s one thing sitting in a room answering questions and something entirely different when faced with the real thing. We need to revisit our policy on a situation like Tennessee’s, but that’s a discussion for another time.”

“You want to scratch the mission? It’s your call.”

It was tempting. But they were in Egypt, and their plan was a good one. “No, at least not yet. I’ll keep an eye on our boy. The toys we have to play with aren’t what we’d hoped for, but we’ll make do. Call when you got a place for us to go.”

Disconnecting, Jake set the phone on a nearby table and studied the traffic going by on the street and looking for anyone standing around who seemed out of place. It was almost impossible to know if someone didn’t belong. Unemployment was high in Egypt these days, and too many men spent their time loitering on the streets, alone and in groups. He dropped the curtain, picked up the phone, and rejoined his team.

By the time they finished inspecting and cleaning the firearms, Jake figured a little more than half were usable, better than he’d expected. Most of the weapons were Russian, but the three helmets were American military and he tried not to wonder who they’d once belonged to. While they worked, he and Stewart attempted to raise Bayne’s spirits with jokes, then the talk turned to bragging about the women they’d dated.

“Best tits in the world, hands down, Brenda Johnson,” Stewart said, waggling his fingers as if reaching for said breasts.

Bayne nodded in agreement. “Hell, yeah. Best ass, Cheryl Rollins.”

Uncomfortable with the conversation, Jake pointed one of the guns at the far wall and sighted down the barrel, tuning them out. There’d been a time when he’d enjoyed this kind of talk with his teammates, but now it seemed kind of stupid . . . even disrespectful to the women in question.

More so, it seemed wrong to think of any woman but Maria, and he certainly wasn’t going to share intimate details of her with his men.

When he’d settled onto his seat on the plane, he’d taken out the picture Maria had given him, memorized it, and then tucked it away in his wallet—storing her away in the back of his mind. While waiting to board, he’d almost called her one last time but forced himself not to. It was critical that he keep his attention on the operation and not allow thoughts of her to distract him. Listening to Bayne describe his date with a woman named Erica, it hit Jake hard how much he missed Maria.

Disquiet crept into his mind. This operation seemed to be falling apart by the minute, and his brain wasn’t one hundred percent focused on the mission. There had never been a woman before now he’d been anxious to return home to. That should please him. Instead it seemed ominous—something that would be denied him because he wanted it too much.

Maria chewed on her thumbnail and fidgeted in her chair. She’d once thought the hardest thing she would ever do was pass her law exams, but she’d been wrong. As she sat in the situation room at K2 with her brother and K2 staff, waiting to hear Jake’s voice come through the speakers topped the list. She slid a quick glance at the man sitting next to Logan. Although he hadn’t been introduced, he had CIA written all over him. He briefly met her gaze, but didn’t give even the hint of a smile. Logan would’ve briefed the guy on who she was, but he’d given no sign of wanting her to acknowledge him, so she tried to ignore him.

Jake had been gone for three days, and today was The Day. Any minute, the feed from the team would stream over the speakers as they prepared to sneak into the house and rescue Chad Sinclair. A part of her wanted to leave, or at least cover her ears. If she went back to her office, Logan would come tell her when it was over. He would tell her that Jake was safe.