Her chest went tight. She was far from Posh Spice. More like a mustard seed.
Her confidence evaporated as she neared the house and considered locking herself inside as she’d done for the past seven years. Considered. And resisted.
Even if this was only about tonight, she wouldn’t miss out on the chance to be alone with Brandon.
Liam pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, behind a row of palm trees, and killed the headlights. Finally, he was certain they were not being followed. They were safe, for now at least. Late-night traffic whipped past, headlamps streaking through the night as if there hadn’t been a freaking life-and-death car chase on a bridge less than five minutes ago. At least none of the cars was her blue SUV with a dented front fender.
Until…
There it went. Her SUV with the vanity license plate on the front and scrapes down the side. Then it was gone. Past them and down the highway, police cars on its tail.
She relaxed back in her seat. “Liam, I am sorry to have dragged you into this mess.”
His fists gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he clenched his jaw. He forced himself to relax enough to speak. “I’m glad you did, because now it ends.”
“You can tell them it’s not my imagination.” Her joke fell flat.
But then, he wouldn’t have laughed if she’d been a Grade A stand-up comic right now. Damn straight, she wasn’t imagining anything. While he admired her grit, he couldn’t find anything inside him except a deep rage and intense need to haul her close, safe. To hell with the past six months.
His arms closed around her and this damn well wasn’t about comfort. She didn’t pull back. She stared up at him, her pupils widening before her gaze fell to his mouth. They’d kissed before, briefly, and he remembered the taste and feel of her. Although no memory compared to the reality of having her in his arms again.
Just like before, he dipped his head toward hers, waiting for her to object, but she still looked back at him steadily. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, then up into his hair, urging him toward her. Yes. The bands snapped on his restraint. He slanted his mouth over hers, taking in the softness slicked with mentholated lip balm. They were both hyped-up and sweaty and there was no way this kiss could go further out here. They couldn’t afford to just hide forever. But for one crazy-ass moment here, touching her made the roar in his mind recede.
She was so wiry and strong, sometimes he lost sight of how soft she was, how curvy in all the right places. How much of a firecracker turn-on she became when she focused that attention on him. Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, farther down and under his uniform, under his T-shirt, nails digging into his back.
His senses went on overload, taking it all in. The press of her br**sts against his chest. The scent of his shampoo in her hair…
And oh, God, her hair. The sleek glide of her ponytail through his fingers sent electric shocks bolting straight through him, making him hard and hungry for more of her. He would give his left nut to be somewhere truly alone with her where he could explore every inch of her body with his eyes, his hands, his tongue, until she was turned inside out from wanting him as much as he wanted her.
But they weren’t somewhere else by themselves. And they were barely alone here.
The sound of cars, a honking horn, a crack of thunder, and finally he remembered where they were. Thought about what they were doing now and what they’d almost done right here on the side of the road in front of God and the late-night traffic. He gripped her elbows and eased her arms from him, her close-cut nails scoring a long, arousing path down his back before her hands slid free from his shirt.
She moaned and pressed herself closer. To hell with the garters on his mirror. “Don’t stop…”
He folded their hands together between them. “We have to get back to base. To safety.”
“Oh, my God, you’re right.” She pressed her palms to her face. “This is insane. I’m sorry for losing control like that.”
And he’d put her at risk right now by indulging a need for her that hadn’t dimmed one bit in six months.
She’d been smart to stay away from him all this time. There was a chemistry here that blew his mind, dulled his mind. He’d been half in love with her before, all the more reason for them to keep their distance, given his three-time-loser track record. Except distance was the one thing he couldn’t give her now.
Because he was the only person who stood a chance of keeping her safe.
Chapter 5
Rachel wondered if she would ever feel safe again.
Sitting in the passenger side of Liam’s Jeep, she entered Patrick Air Force Base for the second time today. She’d been scared out of her mind earlier and the feeling hadn’t changed much. If anything, she was more rattled now that the enormity of the car chase and how she’d let that fear strip away all reason really hit her.
She gnawed her bottom lip, still tingling from the explosiveness of how they’d made out on the roadside. She’d known the chemistry between them had a life of its own. Over the past months she’d been tormented just thinking of their brief kiss in the Bahamas.
Somehow though, her memory had fuzzed over details. The crispness of his beard against her sensitive cheek. How broad his hands were, palming her back. How he’d skimmed them up and down her spine as he brought her closer, until her br**sts pressed to the solid wall of muscles. Taking in all the sensation until hot desire flooded her, she wanted, needed, the outlet from all the pent-up fears and emotions.
Her heart was already pumping overtime, adrenaline searing her veins, and yet her body revved even more just thinking about how fast they’d lost control. If the sound of the traffic hadn’t brought her back to reality, she would have had sex with Liam right then and there, and to hell with the consequences. She glanced at him behind the wheel, his jaw tight in the glow of the dashboard lights. Pretty much the way he’d looked since he pulled away from her. Restraint was costing him too.
A shiver of want rippled through her.
God, but she needed to rein in her feelings. She had to focus on analytical details so she had her facts together when she talked to Liam’s friend in the OSI.
Rachel looked away from Liam fast, out over the ocean. A low-flying cargo plane swooped over the bay with the back ramp open. The big fat moon illuminated people leaping out toward the open water.
“Training,” Liam said simply, as if it was no big thing to see people hurtling out of the back of airplanes into the ocean.
And actually, not so long ago, that would have been normal for her too.
Wind blowing through the missing windows stirred memories of her experiences of being lowered out of helicopters with her dog. Back in the days when she had nerves of steel and didn’t cower on the floorboards of cars. Back before she’d worked an earthquake-relief mission with a man who made her feel too much. She’d lost her ability to distance herself and she’d crumpled inside.
God, how she wanted to be herself again, fearless and in control as she’d been before her job and some criminal stalker sucked the strength of will from her. She wanted to be the woman Liam had been attracted to six months ago.
What a time to realize he hadn’t even really been kissing her on the roadside. He’d been drawn to the woman she once was.
He spun the steering wheel, guiding the vehicle into a parking lot. “We’re here.”
Relief shuddered through her until she realized. “What about Disco?”
“Bring him.”
She wouldn’t have left him anyway. Rachel hooked Disco’s leash and hopped from the Jeep. Liam was already at her side, his hand on a handgun strapped to his waist. When had he put that on, and why hadn’t she noticed?
A series of entrances, passageways, and security codes later, Liam opened a final door into… not at all what she’d expected. She’d imagined being escorted into some kind of cold, sterile inquisition room. Instead she looked around what appeared to be more of a comfy lounge area. Granted it was all industrial, military-issue furniture. But the space contained a sofa, a couple of chairs, a table in the corner with a laptop computer and LCD projector. A television monitor hung from the ceiling.
Disco plastered himself to her leg. She sat uneasily on the sofa while Liam paced.
She toyed with her dog’s leash, weaving the rough hemp length between her fingers. “What happens next?”
“We wait for my friend.” He pivoted to face her just as the door opened again.
Rachel shot to her feet, her dog’s ears radaring forward.
A man and woman stepped in—one in uniform, the other in civilian clothes. Not surprising, since the OSI was a mix of military and civilian employees. Still, Rachel was caught off guard. She’d expected older grim secret service–looking sorts, given that this building was full of grizzled men in camo and nondescript suits. The man—probably in his early thirties, despite a surplus of gray in his salt-and-pepper hair—wore a blue air force uniform and a huge grin. The woman—Liam’s “friend”—sported sleek designer slacks and sky-high heels and brought with her an air of crisp efficiency and subtle perfume.
“Sylvia.” Liam stepped forward, his hand falling to rest familiarly on the woman’s shoulder. “Thanks for meeting us so quickly.”
Sylvia patted his wrist quickly before he pulled away. “Absolutely. We’ll do our best to sort this out.” She gestured to the man beside her. “This is my associate, Captain Bernard. And I assume this is Ms. Flores? I’m Special Agent Cramer.”
Standing, Rachel thrust out her hand and shook hands with both of them. “Yes, and thank you. I know you’re here because of Liam, but still, I’m grateful.”
Sylvia tucked her iPad under her arm. “That’s what friends are for—and it also happens to be my job.”
Friends, or more? If it had been more, then it was in the past. That much she was sure of. Liam had always been straight with her. While he may have had three wives—God, that freaked her out—he had a code about being faithful. He wouldn’t have kissed one woman in the car while dating another woman.
But if Sylvia Cramer was in his past, was this his type? Sylvia, who wore sleek black designer pants and a white silk shirt, crisp pleats and her lanyard precisely aligned? Her pearl earrings matched her pearly white perfect teeth, which were a little large in a way that made her smile seem… off. But then, all that might be jealousy, since this woman could have leaped out of an airplane without a hair sliding out of place.
Sylvia gestured to the door. “Liam, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out, please? Captain Bernard will accompany you.”
As if there were really a question in there anywhere. And she’d used his first name, just as he’d used hers.
Rachel chewed her kissed-tender bottom lip.
“Of course.” Liam turned to Rachel, squeezing her shoulder, and yes, she wanted to believe there was something more when he touched her. Especially with his kiss still imprinted on her lips and brain. “I’ll be just a few feet away if you need me.”
The door clicked closed behind Liam and Captain Bernard. Was it her imagination that it hissed like a portal, trapping her in a vacuum-sealed chamber with someone who’d shifted from ally to jailer?
Her inquisitor pulled a Coke from her purse and popped the top. Offering the soda can, she nodded back to the sofa, green with an iron framework. “Make yourself comfortable. I wish I had something to offer your dog, too. Would you like me to call for a bowl of water?”
“Thank you. If we stay here too long, then yes, he will need that and a trip outside.” Rachel wasn’t fooled for a second by the show of niceties. The woman was trying to work an angle, get closer with the drink and the concern for Disco.
Which should have been fine.
Special Agent Cramer actually was here to help, right? She’d come in late at night just because Liam called. Except Rachel felt the investigator’s suspicion all the way to her toes. This agent was a person who didn’t trust anyone.
