Special Forces Rendezvous (9 page)

“Oh, for the love of God,” she interrupted. “Would you quit telling me how I’m feeling? Why do men always do that?”

“You’re telling me you’re
not
upset, then?”

“No, of course I’m upset,” she said irritably. “But you know what would make me
less
upset? Some forget-your-problems sex.”

Another glimmer of heat flared in his gray eyes, but it burned out fast. “Maybe so, but it’s still not a good idea, Doc. Right now I can’t focus on anything other than getting out of this mess. I’m tired of hiding out, I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. I want this situation over and done with, and until that happens, I can’t get involved with anyone.”

A sigh slipped out of her throat. Crap. How was she supposed to fault him for that? She’d been running for only one day. He’d been doing it for months and months.
Of course
he had more urgent concerns at the moment than sex.

“I understand,” she said quietly.

Relief flooded his handsome face. “Thank you. And look... You’re a beautiful woman, Doc. I’m attracted to you, no denying that. But—” He shrugged awkwardly before taking a step away. “Sex just isn’t on my mind right now. It’s not a priority.” Another step. “Anyway, let’s go inside. I want to see if Nick heard from our contact.”

With a nod, Julia trailed after him, happy he couldn’t see her face because she knew she was blushing from embarrassment, not to mention the lingering desire coursing through her blood.

Now we pretend that didn’t happen.

Ha. Fat chance, she thought as she followed Sebastian back to the house.

Chapter 8

A
t noon the next day, Sebastian, Julia and Nick left the beach house and drove to a small town two hours north of the coast to pick up identification papers for Julia. The men’s contact had shipped the documents to a UPS office that seemed bizarrely out of place in the one-horse town of Poca Colina, which translated to “little hill.” Now, as Sebastian tore open the envelope and studied their man’s handiwork, he couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Fernando did good,” he remarked before extending the American passport, Massachusetts driver’s license and birth certificate in Julia’s direction.

Their fingers brushed, and his groin instantly tightened at the feel of her warm, delicate fingers. He hadn’t been able to look her in the eye all morning, and in the rare instances when their gazes had connected, he’d been barraged with the memory of last night’s makeout session. Christ, those kisses. He couldn’t remember the last time his body had burned so hot, the last time his heart had pounded that hard.

In that moment, he’d needed Julia Davenport more than he’d needed his next breath. He’d been ready to rip that dress off her slender body, throw her down on the sand and screw her until they both couldn’t move for days.

But he’d restrained himself at the last second, miraculously finding the strength to not only end that explosive kiss, but to make it clear that he couldn’t get involved with her.

He’d lied to her, though, when he’d told her that sex wasn’t on his mind. Yeah freaking right. Sex had been on his mind from the moment he’d met Julia at the clinic in Valero. The only problem was, she didn’t seem like the type who’d be interested in a casual affair. When she’d told him about the cowboy she’d met on spring break, she’d claimed to be open to a no-strings affair, but he was still hesitant to take her up on the offer. You didn’t mess around with women like Julia—smart, kind, respectable. She deserved more than a fling, but unfortunately, that was all he’d ever be able to give her.

“These are flawless.” Julia’s amazed voice broke through his thoughts. She was examining the documents he’d just handed her. “I’m afraid to ask how much it cost.”

“Don’t worry, we can afford it,” Nick answered with a shrug.

The shrewd glint in her hazel eyes said she wanted to know more, but Nick didn’t give her the chance to question him. He moved away from the plate-glass window of the courier office and strode toward the Jeep.

“Are we going to the airport now?” Julia asked.

“Yep.” Sebastian checked his watch. “Our flight leaves in an hour.”

“I’m surprised you’re okay with this. I mean, you haven’t been back on American soil since the attempts on your life. I know you’re traveling under a different name, but aren’t you afraid someone will recognize you at the airport?”

He burst out laughing. “Wait, do you think we’re flying commercial?”

Her brows puckered. “Aren’t we?”

“Hey, Nick, the doc thinks we’re flying commercial,” he told his fellow soldier.

Nick laughed. “Come on, Davenport, you’re not
that
naive, are ya?” he said good-naturedly.

Her cheeks turned an appealing shade of pink. “I didn’t think I was, but hell, I guess I am,” she muttered.

Still chuckling, Sebastian waited until Julia hopped into the back of the Jeep before he slid into the passenger seat.

“We’re catching a ride with a cargo jet at a private airfield,” he explained as Nick started the engine and pulled away from the dusty sidewalk. “It’ll take us all the way to upstate New York. After that, we’ll rent a car and make our way to Cambridge.”

Julia accepted their itinerary without a single protest, which he appreciated. He was discovering that absolutely nothing fazed the woman. She took everything in stride, and though she had no problem speaking her mind, she was also quick to follow orders. She trusted him to make decisions, so long as they were directly related to her safety, and he appreciated that above all else.

And yet the irony of it didn’t escape him, because he was the
last
person she ought to be trusting with her life.

The airfield wasn’t far from Poca Colina. They’d dealt with the man in charge only twice, once when Nick went to investigate a cholera outbreak in San Marquez, another time when Tate needed to rendezvous with one of their many contacts. The members of the spec ops community looked out for one another. Weapons, ammo, papers, transport, information—it was only a phone call away, no questions asked.

Nick followed the red dirt path toward a large metal gate. The runways in the distance were actually paved, a drastic difference from previous airfields they’d utilized. The airstrip housed three large hangars, and the selection of planes littering the tarmac was quite impressive. Mostly twin-engine Cessnas, but Sebastian also spotted a Boeing cargo aircraft that seemed out of place in such primitive surroundings.

Driving toward the area near the main hangar, Nick put the Jeep in Park and said, “Make sure you check in the second you get stateside, Seb.”

“Will do.” He hopped out of the vehicle, helped Julia out, then grabbed his go bag from the back.

“It was nice meeting you.” Julia offered Nick a warm, albeit wry, smile. “I wish it had been under different circumstances, though.”

“Me, too, Doc. Me, too.” Nick lifted his hand in a quick wave. “Be safe, guys.”

A minute later, the Jeep was going out the way it came in, leaving Sebastian and Julia alone for the first time all day.

She was wearing her jeans again, as well as that white tank top that had been responsible for keeping him awake half the night. Every time he’d closed his eyes he’d pictured that see-through fabric...Julia’s small, puckered nipples poking right through her paper-thin white bra....

His mouth watered just thinking about it, and he had to wrench his eyes away. “C’mon, our pilot’s waiting.”

They walked through the open door of the hangar. As Sebastian’s boots thudded against the waxed floor, several men in dark blue jumpsuits glanced over suspiciously.

“I’m looking for Ricardo,” he called, his voice bouncing off the hangar walls.

One of the workers jabbed a finger at the cargo jet Sebastian had been admiring before. With a nod of thanks, he kept walking, Julia sticking close to his side, and as they crossed the cavernous space, he noticed several more men gathered a few yards away. All three stopped to leer at Julia as if they hadn’t seen a woman in years.

Setting his jaw, Sebastian rested a possessive hand on Julia’s slender arm.

Her head swiveled in surprise, and then a knowing smirk curved her lips.

“What?” he mumbled.

She raised a brow and lifted one shoulder. “Nothing.”

Ignoring that strange rush of protectiveness, he quickened the pace and practically dragged her toward the cargo jet. The large door at the rear of the plane was wide open, revealing dozens of wooden crates and burlap sacks filling every inch of the cargo hold. Two dark-skinned men chattering in loud Spanish were securing a pallet of crates to the wall, strapping mesh netting over it to keep it in place.

Metal rattled as a thin man with dark skin and bushy facial hair descended the set of steps at the side of the jet. “Stone?” he called.

Sebastian nodded. “Ricardo?”

The man nodded back. He spared Julia a brief look before stalking over to shake hands with Sebastian. According to Tate, Ricardo was reputed to be one of the best pilots in the world, having served in an elite fighter unit within the Colombian Air Force. The man ran this cargo airline now, which was apparently his only legitimate business. His other enterprises were rumored to be far more nefarious.

“We’re all set for takeoff,” Ricardo said in surprisingly good English. “Time to get you strapped in.”

Julia looked alarmed. “Strapped in?” she hissed as they followed Ricardo to the back of the plane.

After they climbed the ramp leading into the cargo hold, Ricardo led them to a narrow metal bench spanning the wall adjacent to the cockpit. “Buckle up. Flight duration will be six hours or so.” That was all the man said before he marched off and left them to their own devices.

Sebastian stowed his duffel bag underneath the bench, then sat down and strapped himself in with the crisscross belts affixed to the wall behind him. As he clicked the belts into place, he eyed Julia expectantly. “Better buckle up, Doc.”

Shaking her head, she sat beside him and secured herself. “This can’t be safe,” she said in dismay.

“Safer than flying commercial,” he replied with a shrug.

A whirring noise whined in the air, followed by the rumble of the jet’s engines roaring to life. The cargo hold began to rattle, the crates and bags on board shaking from the vibrations. It was easy to guess the contents of the cargo—along with the smell of gasoline and oil hanging in the air, Sebastian made out the rich aroma of coffee beans, which had him craving a cup of coffee.

It was too damn noisy to hold a conversation without shouting, so he and Julia stayed quiet during takeoff. He noticed her white-knuckling the edge of the bench, and her face was pale as the plane took flight and the wheels retracted with a loud metallic screech.

Before he could stop himself, he covered one of her hands with his own and dragged his palm over her tense knuckles. Julia’s gaze flew to him in surprise.

“Relax,” he told her, a teasing note in his voice. “Ricardo has flown this route hundreds of times. The coffee always reaches its destination, safe and sound. We’ll be fine.”

Her fingers relaxed slightly. “You’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“You’re allowed to be.” He tipped his head to the side. “I think this is the first time you’ve shown any fear since we met, and a lot of pretty terrifying things have happened since then.”

She sighed. “I’m still trying to decide if I hallucinated half of it.”

“You didn’t.” He stroked her knuckles again. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

“So am I. God, and to think, if Kevin hadn’t contacted me over the radio I never would’ve known about this virus or that someone is treating human beings like guinea pigs.” She smiled sardonically. “I never thought I’d say this, but a part of me wishes I was still living in ignorance.”

“Me, too.”

A staticky sound crackled in the cargo hold, followed by Ricardo’s muffled voice. “We’ve reached the necessary altitude. You can unbuckle your belts now and take it easy. I’ll let you know if we hit turbulence.”

As he unsnapped his belt, Sebastian noticed the bemused expression on Julia’s face. “What is it?” he asked.

“I’m just wondering how you have all these contacts. You got perfect identity papers done in less than twenty-four hours. You have a pilot willing to sneak you into the States. You seem to have an endless supply of weapons, computers, a safe house. How do you have so many connections?”

“The black ops community looks after its own.”

“For free?” She sounded incredibly dubious.

He laughed. “For a hefty price,” he corrected. “But after the three of us left town, Tate and I found out that our little Nicky was holding out on us. Turns out Prescott is filthy rich. We all cleaned out our bank accounts before we took off, and his cashout was in the seven-figure range. He’s pretty much been bankrolling everything since we went into hiding.”

“Is it family money? Or was he some entrepreneur superstar before he joined the army?”

“No clue. Nick doesn’t talk about it, and we don’t ask. I assume it’s family money, though.”

Julia shifted around so she was facing him. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

His stomach clenched as pain swelled inside it. “Dead.”

“You have no family at all?”

“Nope. My dad died in combat when I was fifteen years old—he was a marine. Mom died of cancer about ten years ago.”

And Tommy. Greg. Lynn.

His heart squeezed so hard he thought it might burst. Christ, he wasn’t allowed to think about them. It still hurt so damn bad, even after all these years.

“No grandparents, aunts?” Julia prompted.

“All four of my grandparents died a long time ago, and my parents were only children, so I’ve got no uncles or aunts or cousins scattered about.” He was suddenly eager to change the subject before she pushed for any more details. “What about you?”

“Parents divorced when I was ten,” Julia replied. “My sister and I lived with my mother, who isn’t the easiest woman to get along with. She’s very controlling, very old-fashioned. My dad actually fought for custody of us and lost. He was a doctor, too, a surgeon at Boston General.”

“Is that why you went into medicine, because of your father?”

She nodded. “I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” Sorrow washed over her face. “He died a few weeks before I graduated from medical school.”

“Ah hell, Doc. I’m sorry.” He stroked her hand again, marveling at how smooth her skin was. “I bet he was real proud of you, though.”

“He was.” She smiled, a faraway look entering her eyes. “But I’m not sure how he would’ve felt about my going to work for Doctors International. He wanted me to work at the hospital with him.”

“Why
did
you decide to work abroad?”

She focused her gaze on the coffee crates on the opposite wall. “Just wanted to make a difference, I guess.”

There was clearly a lot more to the story, but Julia didn’t continue and he didn’t push. He did, however, regret his change of topic the moment his next question flew out of his mouth. “Why is it that you don’t have a boyfriend?”

She arched a brow. “Why is that you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Fair enough.” Sebastian grinned. “You first.”

Julia stretched out her legs and leaned her head on the wall behind her. “I’ve dated two men over the past three years, and neither one could handle the traveling I do for work. I’m gone nine out of twelve months of the year—I’m pretty confident I’ll never meet a man who’s on board with that. Nobody wants an absentee partner.”

“You could always find a man who wants to travel
with
you,” he pointed out.

“True.”

“Maybe a colleague? A relief worker you meet abroad?”