Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (3 page)

She held her palm out, hesitant, and then felt a smile widen on her face. A bright green chameleon, half the size of Giovanni’s iPhone, crept cautiously across Phillip’s hand onto her extended palm, its L-shaped hands tickling her skin as it gripped onto her.

“Oh my God, it’s so cute,” she whispered like a child. The chameleon’s independent eyes scanned her as if the description offended it. She watched it walk, lifting its limbs up and over, making its way slowly to her wrist.

“Signore?
” she asked, turning to allow Giovanni the opportunity, but of course his attention was on the glowing screen of his phone. It left her with no other option. “Nathan? Would you like to?”

The moon was bright and the high beams of the Land Cruiser illuminated the area around them enough so she could see him. He wasn’t looking at the adorable little lizard. His eyes were fixed on hers, even as he put his enormous, rough hand over her wrist. Oh, holy shit. His expression was empty, but beneath it, there was a sliver of interest. Desire?

As the chameleon followed a path onto the back of Nathan’s hand, Phillip talked about the camouflage characteristics, but she found it difficult to pay attention. Nathan’s rough hand on her wrist was shocking and wonderful, and she could feel his touch in places . . . elsewhere. Oh, she was in big trouble. She had way more than just a sliver of interest in the American seated behind her.

“How did you see him?” she asked Phillip. “In the green bush, and just headlights?”

“His green is a shade too bright. Once you’ve seen one, you can train your eye to spot them.” He gestured to another bush. “Do you see the one there?”

At first, all she saw were green leaves and thick branches, and one new leaf that was more yellow-green than the others. “Oh. There.”

Phillip smiled and took the chameleon from Nathan’s hand, setting the lizard gently back in the tree. “Are you hungry? Our chef has prepared a fabulous meal this evening for our guests.”

There was Italian abruptly to her left, and Nathan’s grip on her wrist slid away. “You will join Mr. Abramo for dinner this evening.”

Her breath caught and she pressed her lips together momentarily to quiet her impulsive reply. “Was that a question?”

“No,” Nathan said, his face giving nothing away. “It wasn’t.”

-2-

Ethan Foster regretted the name he’d chosen for this op. Nathan was too similar to his real one, which he’d assumed would make it easier, but every time she uttered his cover’s name, Ethan’s teeth clenched so tightly his jaw was in danger of splitting.

Captain Olivia Wallace. This job was hard enough; he didn’t need this distraction added in.

He sat motionless on the ride back to the lodge, not wanting to draw attention as he’d been trained to do. Fade all six-foot-six of himself into nothing. He’d been watching Giovanni’s phone screen, but hadn’t seen anything of interest. Ethan’s gut said a deal was in the works. Not tonight, but soon. There wasn’t a chance in hell Giovanni had come here for safari alone. Ethan’s field director agreed and as soon as the CIA caught wind of Giovanni’s plans, they’d moved quickly, drugging Giovanni’s usual bodyguard to make way for Ethan.

His mission directives were clear. Get in with the Abramos and turn Giovanni by any means possible, with the ultimate goal of gathering intel on his father, Vitale. Ethan had been working the Abramo case for almost a year now, but the proof connecting the family to the Serbian terrorist cell eluded him. The situation with the youngest Abramo brother made it ten times worse. Constantine had been young and pliable, and the CIA’s original target for acquisition, but Ethan had taken that option off the table.

His head ached with exhaustion and every bump that rocked the vehicle aggravated the throbbing. Jesus, what he’d give to sleep for a week. Ethan squashed the thought. It didn’t matter how tired he was. The Abramos were a danger too great to deal with whenever it was convenient. The threat had to be handled now.

“Tell her,” Giovanni said to Ethan, “that I’m going to rest before dinner. I’ll have someone let her know when to meet us at the lodge.”

Great.
Ethan translated to Olivia, and as he assumed, there was displeasure in her green eyes at the subtle demand. Annoyance rose hot within him, but it was self-directed. Giovanni hadn’t been all that interested in his female pilot, not until the second leg of the flight down to South Africa, when Ethan let it slip that he thought she was beautiful.

That was a misstep. But when he pulled Giovanni and his wandering hands off of her, that had been a
big
mistake. It lit the fuse on Giovanni’s interest. The evil little Italian loved to take away what other people desired.

And, shit, Ethan wanted Olivia. He was doing everything in his power to hide it and failing miserably. He’d almost hoped during their tense lunch conversation that she was deeply involved with the Abramos. That would have shut down the unwanted feelings in him, cold. But she hardly knew anything about the family’s activities. Only enough to know that walking away mid-contract was a bad idea.

Ethan had set Olivia in Giovanni’s sights, which was a terrible place to be. People had a habit of disappearing after spending time with Giovanni Abramo.

Olivia was the last one to arrive at dinner. The men were seated at the long table, and all heads turned when she appeared. She’d let her hair down from the braid and pushed a wavy lock behind an ear. Both Giovanni and Nathan noticed her at the same time. Giovanni’s face broke out into a smile, while Nathan clenched his jaw and tore his gaze away. Why was Nathan acting like he was angry with her?

Giovanni sat beside Nathan but the rest of the flight crew was at the other end of the table, as if they weren’t allowed to mingle with the boss. Giovanni waved her over, and she chose once again not to be rude.

“
Buonasera
,” she said, when the men were on their feet. She slipped into the seat and they followed. Then her eyes settled on Giovanni.

“
Buonasera
,” he echoed back. He turned and glanced at Nathan, uttering something. Whatever Giovanni said to his bodyguard made Nathan choke on his drink. Discussion ensued, and occasionally the dark, intense eyes would glance her direction.

“What are you two saying? I recognized some of those words.” Words like
Americano.

“It’s nothing.” Nathan didn’t even disguise the lie.

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

His gaze trapped hers. “No, but it’s better than the alternative, trust me.”

“Tell me.”

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.” It looked like the instant it was out, he wanted it back.

Her eyes went wide and her heart fluttered. What did that mean? “Later?”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed when Giovanni spat out a long sentence, and the thin Italian lips turned up in a seductive smile.

“Mr. Abramo—”

“Gio,” Giovanni corrected him, a scolding tone.

“. . . wants to know if you’re seeing someone.”

What?
Olivia kept her gaze on Nathan, studying the American beside her employer. She wondered if he’d translate her words literally.

“Would it stop him if I were?” Sleeping with Giovanni Abramo would be like jumping without a parachute. Maybe the same could be said of Nathan.

His eyes were empty. “No, it won’t stop him, but it might slow him down.”

She turned to Giovanni.
“Si.”

Hopefully it wasn’t obvious to Giovanni that it was a lie. She’d become quite a good liar in the last decade, but the man to Giovanni’s right didn’t look easily fooled. She knew what a liar looked like and, similar to the chameleon, she could spot another of her kind hidden in the bush.

Giovanni’s questions were tedious and she had fun giving purposefully cryptic answers, sort of enjoying Nathan’s reaction to them. Once the entrees were done and the Italian had two glasses of wine in him, he looked ready to strike.

“He says you’re the best looking pilot his family’s ever had.”

She gave a tight, polite smile.
“Grazie.
”

Giovanni’s next sentence made Nathan pause, and since Giovanni had delivered it with full bedroom eyes and a seductive smirk, she could wager a guess as to what it was. Before Nathan could spit out the translation, Phillip appeared.

“There’s a phone call for Mr. Abramo.”

Their employer followed Phillip, leaving her to examine Nathan.

“What did he say?”

“That you’re very beautiful.”

The sound of the dinner around them faded. She’d been asking about the earlier discussion, not the last slimy thing Giovanni had said. Another woman might have assumed this compliment came from the smooth Italian, but Olivia knew whom the words really came from. She hadn’t heard the phrase
molto bella
, so Nathan had cleaned up the sleaze.

“Thank you,” she said. The unexpected flattery got to her much more than it should have. Nathan shifted in his seat as his gaze went to the main lodge.

“Now’s your window of opportunity to escape,” he said. “You should go.”

And whom, exactly, was he telling her to escape from? She was fascinated by this man, but she had zero desire to continue with Giovanni, and that trumped everything else. Her chair squealed across the floor when she stood.

“Good night,” she said.

He wouldn’t even glance her direction. “Go.”

Her fascination with him deflated at his commanding tone. When she tried to head out of the main lodge, one of the staff members stopped her. It was dark and she’d have to wait for the armed escort. Every second she remained gave Giovanni more time to return and annoy her.

There was a sigh right behind and above her. Was he a ninja? How had she not heard him?

“I’m armed. I can take you.”

Nathan said it like it was the last thing he wanted to do, and her annoyance grew. Why offer if he didn’t want to?

He walked beside her, his eyes scanning their surroundings and looking past her. They’d only just made it away from the lodge lights when she considered a different destination. She wasn’t tired. Wasn’t ready to go to bed. There was so much of this beautiful, foreign land around her that she hadn’t yet seen. She could sleep later.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, when she followed the path that led past her cabin and down the hill. A single lantern burned on a wooden patio jutting out over the river, and her footsteps creaked on the floorboards.

“Will you tell me what Gio said when I sat down?”

Nathan raked a hand through his hair, and his eyes hardened and narrowed. “He was guessing what you’d be like in bed.”

She grinned. “Oh, yeah? What was the verdict? Frigid bitch or bossy control-freak?”

He looked irritated and didn’t seem to find that amusing. Maybe he didn’t have a sense of humor. Or maybe she’d guessed a little too closely.

“Can I finish walking you back to your room?” It was a question, but sounded too much like an order.

“Nope. I want to know what he thought.”

Nathan put his hands on his hips, taking a large stance that showed off his impressive and intimidating stature. His face soured. “Giovanni suspects frigid.”

Her eyebrow lifted as the corner of her mouth tugged into a smirk. “He would be wrong.”

“I figured you lean more toward the control freak.”

So, the tall, handsome American had considered what sex would be like with her. Tingling warmth crept over her skin and the smirk remained on her face. “You,” she said, “would not be wrong.”

There was no outward reaction, other than a slight lift of his shoulders on a breath. She leaned against the railing, looking at the inky water gently flowing beneath them. The breeze picked up and she shivered.

“Olivia,” he said, his tone stronger. It was nice to hear her name on his voice.

“I’m in Africa. I can hear hippos over there in the grass. Can you just give me a minute to appreciate all this before locking me in my room?”

He sighed. “There may be hippos over there, but God knows what else.”