White Hot (25 page)

He had to hand it to her. The woman did not give up easily. Samantha Richardson was a damn good captain. And one hell of a woman.

“Know anything about bombs?” she asked.

He gave a tired smile. Not his main specialty, but…“I get by.” His smile faded. He really needed to tell her. “There’s more.”

Her fingers gripped the first aid kit with a slight tremble. “You’re killing me here, Walker.”

“You deserve the whole truth.”

She licked her lips and nodded reluctantly. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Most men—” She cut off abruptly and darted him a quick glance. Their eyes met and held. Her cheeks colored. And suddenly, it was back again, prancing around them. That giant elephant in the room.

Yeah. No fucking shit.

Most men wouldn’t have forced himself on her and then acted like a paranoid pricktard when she objected. Most men wouldn’t have led a frickin’ foreign assassination squad right to her frickin’ doorstep. Most men wouldn’t be lying to her—
and himself
—about how much he was starting to like her. Hell, more than like. And wanted to keep her around…for a whole lot longer than they probably had left.

And most men couldn’t kill another man and shove his body over the side of a ship.

The whole truth? Who was he trying to kid?

She tore her gaze away and swallowed. “So tell me everything.”

For a split second he almost spilled his guts. About his guilt. About his feelings for her. He even opened his mouth to do it. But what came out was, “They’ve got two 120mm antitank missile launchers and a case full of rockets. I disabled one of the launchers, but…” He shook his head. “Not enough time.”

He really was a wimpy baby.

She took in the information, and frowned. “Antitank rockets? Can they sink a ship?”

“They did a pretty good job on that Russian submarine I was on last week,” he muttered distractedly, “with a little help.”

She blinked owlishly. “Russian submarine?”

Ah, shit.
He cringed at his slip. “Shouldn’t have told you that. Now I really am gonna have to kill you.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He couldn’t begin to read her expression. But this time it wasn’t amusement.

“Sorry. Not funny.”

“Someday,” she murmured, “you’ll have to tell me that story.”

“Sure,” he said, forcing himself to refocus. “The thing is, that help I mentioned?” He could literally see her heart sink. “It was a Chinese nuclear submarine. And it’s probably still lurking around the Bering. Whether it’s working with our boys”—he shrugged—“who knows.”

She gaped.

Speechless.

Yeah, that about summed things up.

Her mouth snapped shut. “Clint. I could have sworn you mentioned
good
news.”

He smiled weakly. “Well, I have a gun now. Bullets, too.”

She stared at him in disbelief. Then shook herself. “Well great. Wow, we’re totally saved.” She turned back to the duffel bag and stuck the first aid kit into it with a vengeance. Then she spun back to him. “Clint, you really need to tell me what’s going on. Why the hell are these guys after you? What did you steal from them that’s so damn important?”

He stared back at her. “Who says I stole anything?”

She gave him a death-ray glare.

“I didn’t steal it, technically, but, okay. I do have something they want back.”

“Let me guess. A data card. What’s on it?”

His jaw dropped. He shot a hand through his hair. “Ever think about becoming a spy?”

“No.” She kept glaring at him.

“I can’t tell you what’s on it. But it’s important to our country. Trust me on that. And if anything happens to me—”

She whipped up a finger at him. “Do not even go there, Clint. You are
not
leaving me alone in the middle of this mess. It was bad enough I had to watch you—”

Before she got really wound up, he cut her off. “I thought you wanted to hear the good news.”

Her mouth snapped shut in midword. She huffed out a breath and hiked up her brows.

“I found a sat phone on the trawler.” He smiled.

She gasped. “What?”

“Satellite phone.”

“Are you serious?” She started to jump up. “And you didn’t think to lead with that? My God, Clint. Call the navy! The air force. Hell, the president! What are you waiting for?”

He grasped her arm. “I plan to, but it won’t work down here.”

She shook him off. “Where’s the phone?” She scooted out of reach and grabbed for the dry-bag. “We’ll go topside.”

“No,” he said, hating this next part. “Wait, I—”

“You’re kidding, right?” She ripped open the dry-bag seal and flipped out the folds. “We need to get up there ASAP.”

“Yeah. But first—”

Something in his voice must have alerted her. She paused in midmotion. “What? You’re telling me there’s
more
?”

Damn.
Until this very second he hadn’t realized how much he didn’t want her to know that other side of him. The side that was every bit as ruthless as the enemy they were fighting.

“I killed one of them. On the trawler.”

She stared. “Killed? As in—?”

“As in dead. I gave him a burial at sea.”

This time she didn’t even try and stop her dismayed flinch. She sat down abruptly. “Oh.”

Yeah. How to make a good woman run screaming in horror from you in one easy lesson.

“It was him or me,” he said. “I chose me.”

“I saw,” she said, her voice hollow. “At least, I think I…So they know? That he’s dead? Which means they also know about us…?”

“You mean me.” He shook his head. “Too early to tell. I covered it up as best I could. Tango One—the other guy—believes he was sick. Maybe they’ll think he was puking over the side and fell in.”

It could happen.

“Was he sick?” she asked, confusion banishing the worry for a moment.

“No.” Clint waved a hand. “Long story. But if Xing Guan gets suspicious, I’m sure we’ll know about it real quick.”

“Xing Guan?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s who the leader is.”

“You’ve heard of him before?”

Clint nodded.

“Bad?”

“Yeah. Real bad.”

“And if he gets suspicious, he’ll start searching for us.”

“For me.” And then it would get really ugly, pronto.

Surprisingly, she didn’t run screaming from him. In fact, she seemed to have completely forgotten the thing about killing a man.

“But he might not be,” she said. “Suspicious.”

He had to like her optimism. And he liked that she wasn’t falling to pieces and going all hysterical. Face it—he liked pretty much everything about her.

He wasn’t about to crush her hopes. “I’m taking it as a good sign that Xing Guan and his goons didn’t come charging back from the trawler right away, hell-bent on hunting down the guy who made their compadre disappear.”

Samantha’s lips parted a fraction and her green eyes flared and met his. One second they were celery clear, the next dark and sultry like a Caribbean storm. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, every cell in his body was remembering every single minute the hijackers hadn’t come charging back after him.

She was remembering, too.

Her stormy eyes dipped to his body, and he realized with a start that he’d been sitting there the whole time naked.

“It’s a darn good thing they didn’t come charging back,” she murmured.

Her meaning was impossible to miss.

He had to physically stop himself from reaching for her.

Not
a good idea. For so many reasons.

Besides, he was not about to go all caveman on her again. He was a civilized man who respected women, and by God, he would act like one.

Even if it killed him.

“I should get dressed,” he said.

She nodded. And bit her lip.

The elephant nudged him. He ignored it.
Civilized.
“Maybe a quick shower first,” he said. “If I’m going to die today, I’d just as soon—”

Her sultry expression morphed to taken aback.

Okay. Black humor not appropriate.

He forced his gaze away from her. “Actually, dried saltwater gets itchy.” He brushed some nonexistent grains off his chest, and glanced a few inches farther south. “I’m also a little—” He grimaced. Hell.
TMI, bro.

She shifted, trying not to look embarrassed. “Sticky?”

He gave her a wry smile. “How’d you guess?”

Her cheeks turned rosy. “Not exactly a guess.” She shifted again. “We must really have—” Her words halted abruptly.

Her eyes went big and wide, and she stared at him askance. No. More like
horror-stricken
.

What?

A low buzz started in his head.

His mind swiftly hit rerun and fast-forwarded through what they’d just said. And came to a dead stop on one particular word. His stomach dropped like a twenty-pound weight.

Sticky.

From making love.

He looked down at his cock, and his heart literally froze in his chest for several beats. Then it took off into hyperspace.

There was only one reason they’d both be…

“Oh, hell,” he breathed. The buzz in his head grew louder. “Oh, fucking hell.”

She didn’t make a sound. Just sat there staring at him, utterly aghast.

“Please tell me you’re on…”

Her head shook side to side, in slow motion.

He’d known that. Yesterday they’d both been mindful of using protection. Neither of them was in the market for the kind of long-term commitment that could come of being careless.

How could this have happened? That they’d
both
been so…

“I—We—” He tried to think of something to say. Anything. But his tongue couldn’t begin to form words. His brain was buzzing too loudly in his skull. Like propellers churning through the—

All at once he snapped to attention.

Holy hell.

He whipped toward the bulkhead and tried to listen. But the adrenaline surging through his ears made them next to useless.

Samantha also sprang to her feet, turning in the same direction. “Is that an engine?”

“Yes. And it’s not ours.”

She looked over at him, her face lit by a spangle of emotions.

They both spoke in the same instant.

“The Coast Guard!” she exclaimed.

Just as he gritted out, “The Chinese nuclear sub.”

Alarm shot through Sam. “God, the sub? You think?”

She’d been wishing so hard the Coast Guard would hurry up and find them, she hadn’t even remembered the Chinese submarine he’d just told her about!

Clint’s face was grim. “Let’s hope not.”

To be honest, she hadn’t quite believed him when he’d mentioned it. She should have. The man might be guilty of a lot of things, but exaggeration was not one of them.

He closed his eyes and listened intently. “I should be able to tell them apart. But the sounds are different through this hull than what I’m used to. Too muffled.”

She didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to the ship, to them, if this was the enemy sub and not the Coast Guard. “We need to go up top and see,” she said, starting to move.

“Yep.” He hastily pulled on his clothes, carefully tucking his leather and ivory totem in the pants pocket, then glanced hesitantly around at their small sanctuary. Their few belongings were scattered around—her duffel and his dry-bag, the limping hammock, the dripping wetsuit.

She halted, realizing he hadn’t budged. She followed his gaze. “What?”

He shook his head and bent to retrieve the sat phone. “Nothing.” When he rose again, he looked at her. Really looked. His face went all serious and uncertain.

Crap.

It wasn’t hard to guess what was on his mind.

She headed him off at the pass, raising a hand like a stop sign. “Clint, don’t even go there. There’s no need. Besides, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with right now.”

He silently studied her, a frown slowly creasing his brow. “There is a need,” he said at length. “But you’re right, now is not the time.”

Yeah.
Hardly surprising he’d agree so quickly. No doubt, he’d conveniently forget to bring it up again.

Whatever.

Well, at least he’d lent lip service to giving a damn. She started for the door again.

There hadn’t been time to process the fact that she may actually be pregnant with Clint’s baby, let alone figure out the consequences if it were true…but she had to admit to a tiny sliver of disappointment that, in the end, Lieutenant Commander Walker was like all the other men in her life—ready to abandon her to her own fate and not want any part of it. Or that of his own child.

The age-old bitterness churned through her stomach and heart like a gristmill of acid.

He caught her arm. “Samantha.”

She fought to keep her face neutral. And her eyes dry. “Yeah.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

Her chin lifted a fraction. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His lips thinned. “Honey, I meant what I said. We need to talk about this, and we will.”

Uh-huh.
“Whatever you say.”

His eyes narrowed. Beyond the hull, the sound of the other vessel throttled down to a low purr. He didn’t look away from her. She tugged at her arm, wanting to get topside
to see what was going on out there. Wanting even more to escape his intense regard. He didn’t let go. “Samantha, if you’re pregnant—”