Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (5 page)

The sun had grown hot as he waited beside the plane, annoyed that he’d been assigned this routine security task. Giovanni liked the plane ready at his whim. Who knew when the day might go south and he’d have to hightail it back to Rome?

The fuel truck was late but that was expected. Every country had their own way of doing things and operated on their own time. South Africa had a leisurely pace, similar to Italy’s.

What would have happened if she hadn’t said his cover’s name? Ethan had stumbled from her room last night and made his way to his own, barely catching his breath before Giovanni found him there. The Italian believed his American bodyguard had escorted Olivia back to her room where she’d immediately fallen asleep, and hadn’t heard her employer knock on her door minutes later when he was looking to hook up. Once again, the idea of Giovanni going after her gave Ethan a sharp, odd feeling of possessiveness.

The word repeated over and over again.
Disaster.
That’s what the director would call this, and that’s exactly what this was. Despite everything, no matter the risk to his mission, the real man inside him wanted her.

He’d never, ever had a reaction to a woman during an op. It was hazardous and unprecedented. She clouded his head and left him disoriented. Made him slow and stupid, which was a great way to end up blowing his cover. Or dead.

She came on strong. So strong that he’d spent time against that wall wondering if she had ulterior motives, but there was genuine hurt when he backed away. She
wanted
him, which made no sense.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to see her making her way toward him now, but he cursed under his breath. It was her plane and she’d told him it was her job to know what happened on it. The brim of her faded Detroit Lions hat shielded her deep green eyes from the sun, but not the rest of her gorgeous body. He probably looked like he was waiting for her when, in fact, he wanted to avoid her as long as possible.

“Afternoon,” she said, her tone frosty. “You’re here because . . .?”

“I’m to make sure nothing get on the plane that’s not supposed to while it fuels.”
Like a bomb.

She nodded in acceptance. “I guess they’re running behind?”

“Seems so.”

“Where’s our boss?”

“Getting ready for the game drive.” Ethan figured now was as good a time as any to have the conversation that was needed. “Hey, last night—”

A tanker truck rumbled down the gravel road, kicking up dust and dirt, and momentarily broke his concentration. There was no way he could tell her over the laboring engine that approached that he’d made a horrible mistake.

He shouldn’t have gotten on her plane. He shouldn’t have let her kiss him. And he sure as shit shouldn’t have let himself kiss her back.

Olivia gave a friendly smile to the truck driver, whose eyes lit up. He probably didn’t encounter women too often on his deliveries, and definitely not ones who looked like her. Long legs, full breasts stacked over a narrow waist. Curves. Ethan’s hands knew exactly where those curves were.

All of the papers were in order and the refueling was uneventful, other than the driver lingering until he got a good look at Ethan’s scowl, which sent the man running.

“You didn’t have to be rude to him,” she scolded.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you looked like you wanted to kill him.”

“Maybe that’s just how I look.”

Her gaze locked on his, an enigma behind her eyes. “That’s not how you look at me.”

How the hell did she know there was more going on with him than appeared on the surface? She didn’t wait for him to say anything. Her emerald eyes blinked once, and then she was gone.

By the time he reached the lodge, Giovanni was already seated in the vehicle, ready for the game drive. He dismissed the backup translator. The thin, white South African man spoke English well enough, but his Italian wasn’t great and that was sure to annoy Giovanni.

“Are you ready?” Giovanni asked him.

“Yes.” Ethan wrapped a hand around the black bar to climb into the first row—

“No, she’ll sit there.”

“She?” He craned his neck, already certain who Giovanni was talking about. Ethan chewed back the cuss word he wanted to say. Although Giovanni didn’t speak English, he’d seen enough English-speaking movies to recognize the four-letter words. “I told you not to come,” he said to her.

“You are not my boss,” Olivia snapped. As she moved to climb in, he instinctively stepped back. He didn’t want her so close that he’d be able to smell the faint vanilla perfume she wore. It had lingered last night, just as long as the taste of her soft mouth.

Ethan used the darkest look in his possession, the one that was pure intimidation, and it made her eyes widen so they were mostly white. But she swallowed back that fear and stood tall. Jesus, that glare should have sent her running.

Her face soured, and he realized he should have tried a soft touch rather than a forceful one. Her foot stomped on the running board as she climbed up and flopped down in the front row beside Giovanni, just like last time. Her gaze burned into Ethan.

Fuck.

This distraction, the one with green eyes and an unnerving ability to see through his lies, was going to end up a major complication if he wasn’t careful.

Olivia wasn’t sure she wanted to risk another encounter with Giovanni’s wandering hands, but she let petty revenge get the better of her when she saw Nathan about to climb into the Land Cruiser. His annoying comment about not coming along echoed in her ears. The rejection last night had pissed her off, so she wanted to repay the feeling.

They drove for a long while, and tension eased as she took in the African landscape. God, it was beautiful. Cape buffalo grazed in the rolling hills near a watering hole that zebras drank at. Her reasons for coming on the drive were stupid, but she was glad she’d made the decision. The man behind her radiated disapproval. Was she distracting him?

The sun was low when the Land Cruiser crawled toward the gray mass of animal, nibbling on the grass.

Phillip’s voice was hushed, but she got the feeling it was out of respect and not necessity. “This is a white rhino. Young, male. He’s left his mother not long ago, I remember him wandering off from her and her following. Mom had a tough time letting go.” The South African pulled out a sophisticated camera with a long lens. “The light is best right now, and he’s a great looking fellow.”

“Is that your favorite? Rhinos?” she asked.

“They’re magnificent animals, and if things continue, they won’t be around much longer.”

Her focus remained on the enormous animal whose foraging brought it slowly closer to them.

“There’s a saying,” the South African continued, “that the only good poacher is a dead one, and when I look at this fellow here . . . it’s hard to disagree.”

She could understand Phillip’s disgust. He’d spent his life around these animals and his livelihood depended on them.

For a long time they sat in silence and watched the rhino graze. Giovanni finally had his rhino, and appeared transfixed by the lumbering animal. It reminded her of a cow in a strangely sweet way. It was serene, peaceful. Olivia wasn’t one to get sentimental or melodramatic, but for the first time in a long while, she felt okay.

But things were not okay.

Nathan put one of his long legs over the seatback and then the other, sliding down so he was now seated between her and Giovanni, and leaned forward.

“Phillip,” his voice was almost inaudible, “what other languages do you speak?”

“French, some Spanish—”

The quiet and hurried French that spilled from Nathan’s mouth made Phillip’s face fill with shock.

“What is it?” she asked, matching Nathan’s quiet tone. His face gave nothing away, but something was clearly wrong. He was speaking in French specifically so she wouldn’t understand. What the hell was he saying that made the South African so nervous?

That was when Giovanni reached for the rifle on the dashboard.

-4-

During the van ride to the lodge, she’d heard Nathan translate that Giovanni hadn’t purchased any hunting permits. That was because you couldn’t get permits for what Giovanni wanted to hunt. He was going to shoot the rhino calf. The barrel of the rifle swung toward the gray, moving mountain where an oxpecker bird hitched a ride.

Nathan and Phillip were statues as Giovanni prepared to fire. There was no way she was going to let that happen, even with the intimidating American man seated beside her.

She was so focused on what she was about to do that the movement in the bushes didn’t register. Her hand shot out and she knocked the barrel up to the sky. Either he was a second before firing or her action startled him enough to pull the trigger, because the long gun went off with a tremendous retort.

The rhino snorted, turned, and galloped the opposite direction from the vehicle, crashed through the brush and disappeared. All three men spoke at once in their native languages—upset or concerned, she couldn’t tell.

“Rounds!” Nathan snapped to Phillip, who fumbled with the glove box for more ammo. Nathan’s hand closed around the zipper of his hoodie and yanked it down.

When the rhino ran off, all of the air drained from her lungs. What had she done? Giovanni hadn’t been aiming at the animal, he’d been aiming at the pair of poachers that had been moving in on foot. Everyone in the vehicle had been so quiet and still, and the tall grass and nearby brush had made them difficult for the poachers to notice.

She’d forced Giovanni to shoot into the air and give away their position.

The two men whose skin was as dark as coffee grounds focused their attention and guns on the vehicle. That was the last thing she saw before Nathan curled a rough hand around the back of her neck and shoved her head into his lap. Then he retrieved the gun holstered inside his open jacket.

A shot whizzed overhead, slicing through a branch. Two more cracks ripped from a gun and hit the side of her door as leaves from above rained down.

She had to be impressed with Giovanni, who reloaded with lightning speed and fired again before Nathan had his gun ready. There was a sharp noise of pain from just beyond the car and then hurried footsteps and branches rustled as one of them fled. As that faded, there were strangled sounds of gurgling from nearby. Giovanni had hit the man, but not killed him.

The Italian asked Nathan something, and she could feel the shift go through the body beneath her hands, signaling Nathan was reluctant to do what he’d just been asked to. He placed his left hand on her shoulder, either steadying himself or preventing her from getting up. Then he fired a single shot, silencing the gurgling.

Her whole body shook when he put the gun away and zipped his sweatshirt closed, his hands and breath steady. There was no physical reaction from him. You’d never know he’d just taken another man’s life, even if it had been to end his suffering. Her hands ached because she was gripping his thigh ferociously. It had to hurt, but he didn’t ask her to release him.

“What are we going to do about that?” Nathan said to Phillip.

“Hyena will take care of it. Tomorrow there will be hardly anything left.”

Nathan’s hand hesitantly came to rest on her shoulder, and this time she flinched at his touch. Giovanni babbled and it seemed to annoy his bodyguard.

“Enough, I get it,” he snapped at his boss. Then his voice softened. “Olivia, it’s safe now. If you want to sit up, keep your eyes on me.”

She exhaled loudly. She wasn’t sure whether she’d prefer to look at the dead body instead of Nathan’s cold eyes. The engine of the Land Cruiser rumbled to a start and rolled in reverse toward the sandy path, and she sat up in time to see Phillip spit on the ground. It wasn’t like the murder left a bad taste in his mouth. It seemed this was a final sign of disrespect to the poacher.

Nathan’s eyes weren’t cold. They were filled with chaos, and she didn’t understand. At least he wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked worried.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

“I almost got us killed.” The adrenaline pumping through her veins made her unable to control her mouth. “I thought Giovanni was going to shoot the rhino. That’s why I went for the rifle.”