Chad stared out the Humvee’s window in a futile effort to pretend Lauren wasn’t sitting mere feet away from him. Did Sam know it was Lauren he’d be protecting?
Damn it, was this all a setup? Some twisted scheme to get them back together? Was Thalia playing one of her manipulative games? Or Sam? No, neither of them liked Lauren. Oh, they’d both liked her well enough until she’d walked away from their marriage. Thalia had been livid on his behalf, while Sam…well, Sam had set him up with an endless number of women. All of whom he’d turned down. Almost all, he corrected himself. It had been almost ten years, and he doubted Lauren had been celibate either. The idea of her being with another man turned his stomach. His gaze slid sideways and he checked her left hand. After all these years why should he feel such satisfaction in not finding a ring? He should want her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him, damn it.
Something about the whole assignment, about the way Weir had come to them and then the way Sam had suggested he get out from behind the desk and take the assignment had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at a ninety-degree angle. Weir had to have known he worked for Hauberk, had to have known he’d once been married to Lauren. So why seek him out? He ran through the meeting and realized that he’d been manipulated-and from the looks of it, Sam had been part of the manipulation. Which made no sense if Sam knew Lauren would be their principal; there was no way in hell he would have put Chad in charge of her protection. Sam, more than anyone, would realize his objectivity would be skewed. It must be obvious from the way he couldn’t stop staring at her ankles, remembering them wrapping about him as he positioned himself at her entrance, that he was anything but objective. His cock stiffened at the memory of the heat of her pussy as he slid deep inside her. Shit yeah, his objectivity was completely shot to hell.
When the Humvee pulled into the garage, he got his first good look at her in the light. There were a few more lines on her face than there had been, no surprise, though fewer than on his. Her hair was longer than it had been last time he’d seen her. Damn it, why was he so turned on by the thought of threading his fingers through her hair, holding her in place while she…Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Focus on the mission, not on her sucking your dick, you fucking idiot!
So much for maintaining any sort of balance. Thank God Troy had said he’d hang around a few days.
Chad led her through the kitchen, introducing her to the couple who took care of the place throughout the year. He’d been here before, for visits and training exercises, so he stood back and watched her. Despite the circles under her eyes, she took the time to greet each of the agents who would be guarding her.
Damn, she looked sexy in that totally oblivious I’m-all-business manner. No one else knew the body hidden beneath that demure white cotton blouse and navy blue slacks. No one else knew the passion and the heat waiting to be released when Lauren let go of her inhibitions. No one else here would know, he corrected himself.
As he stood back waiting, he caught Walters slanting him a glance from time to time. Did Andy know Lauren was his ex-wife and now wondered why he hadn’t removed himself as lead op? Some great example he was setting to his agents, wasn’t he?
Or was Andy attracted to her and wondered if Chad might be jealous if he put a move on her? The little green-eyed monster he thought he’d conquered long ago flared into a dragon that filled the room.
After shooting Andy a narrow glance, Chad grasped Lauren’s elbow. “You must be tired. Let me show you your room.”
The second he touched her again his whole body reacted as if he’d grabbed a thousand-volt electrical wire-the same sensation he’d had that first night he’d escorted her at the bar. The same way it had each time he’d touched her every day they were married.
“There’s an indoor pool, a work-out room, all the comforts of your standard mansion.” He’d originally planned to show her them all tonight, but damn it all, he needed distance between them or she’d find herself plastered against the wall, her slacks on the floor at her ankles, her pussy glistening as he buried his cock deep within her.
He pushed open the door to the main bedroom and stood aside, letting her enter first. “I’ll show you the rest of the place in the morning.”
“No debriefing? Isn’t that Hauberk standard operating procedure?”
From the circles beneath her eyes and the heaviness of her lids, she was about to drop. He could have her horizontal in three seconds flat but she wouldn’t sleep until he was finished. Damn it! Focus! “Sam’s got a team working on it. We’re safe enough for tonight that we can wait another few hours before we start down that path.”
If he had his way, he’d continue the investigation. Until she told him where she’d gone after she’d dropped from his information nets keeping track of her six years ago. Until she told him why she’d done what she’d done years before. Said what she’d said. And not said what he’d needed her to say. I love you, like he’d said to her picture a thousand times that first day and the following weeks, followed by why?
The pain from coming home that afternoon to discover she’d moved out washed over him. Not in the tidal wave that had once engulfed him. No, time had changed the grief and heartbreak into an acid wash that corroded his honor, his dignity. Having her standing here, so close, captive to his questioning challenged his control.
If he gave into that need, the desire to break her down, he’d never be able to face himself in a mirror again. Those tactics were for the other side.
The bed looming too large in his imagination, he stayed in the middle of the room and let her explore for herself. She opened the closets, frowning as she examined the various track suits, T-shirts and khakis.
Her frown deepened as she fingered a black leather quilted vest. “This is all bullet proof, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” They’d protect her from close arm fire. Or a sniper. As long as it wasn’t a head shot. “For the duration of your stay here, those are the only clothes you’ll wear.”
“They must have cost Sam a small fortune.”
He forced his jaw to unlock. Obviously time hadn’t softened her opinion of Sam. “Don’t worry about that. Hauberk’s doing quite well, in case you haven’t heard.”
After releasing a slow breath, Lauren nodded. “I wasn’t trying to be argumentative. I’m proud of what you’ve build Hauberk up to be. I’m glad you found somewhere to keep you challenged.”
Not enough to come back to him. Or even pick up the phone and call him.
She carefully closed the closet door and walked to the window. Probably trying to figure out where she was, he’d wager. In the morning, she may figure out which state they were in. It didn’t matter if she knew where they were or not. What mattered was that no one else discovered their location.
“Did you mean what you said to Troy?” she asked after a long moment had passed. “About blaming yourself if anything happened to me?”
“Yes.” I worry about everything when it comes to you.
He shut the drape she’d opened, aware he was closing them in completely from prying eyes, aware of the closed door to the hall, how she stood less than a foot away from him, and the massive bed behind her. The subtle fragrance of her perfume tickled his nose. It was the perfume he’d bought her for her birthday the first year they’d been together.
The dark urges, the ones he’d denied for so long, reared up, sending a finger of flame down his spine. His cock hardened, and his balls drew close to his body as his imagination exploded. He wanted to strip her naked and tie her to the bed, leaving her spread eagled and vulnerable. He’d reclaim every inch of her, make a meal of her before spreading her thighs and reminding her who had made her come. Then he’d flip her onto her stomach and take her anally too. And when they were all done, she’d admit she’d never had another lover satisfy her like he could.
What if she had?
Maybe Lauren sensed his thoughts; more likely she’d noticed his burgeoning hard-on, because she stepped away from him. “Are you worried someone might be watching us with a high-powered scope?”
In truth, he wasn’t worried about a sniper. She could see how the lights penetrated her linen skirt, how they outlined her trim legs and the V they formed. That the men patrolling the grounds might see her silhouette and have their own fantasies annoyed him no end. “The windows are certified bulletproof, but I’d prefer not to give them a target.”
Goddamn it, how many times did they lecture the newbies about maintaining distance and yet here he was, the “I want to fuck you, who cares about anything out there that might put you in danger” poster child.
“Guess that means my five-mile run is off the agenda in the morning?”
His brain dredged up a memory of one of their jogs during their honeymoon. Halfway through their run, Lauren had pointed out a field filled with clover and daisies, bees lazily buzzing from blossom to blossom around them. He’d dragged her into the thigh-high grasses, the thickness of the clover hiding them as he’d undressed her, made love to her. The field echoed with her laughter when he’d plucked a daisy and tickled her with it. Her smile had been brighter than the sun, the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin after he’d rolled off her still made his heart quicken. Finding a field was out of the question, but there was a gazebo overlooking the pond in the valley. If he remembered correctly there was a sofa bed that would cushion them nicely.
Why did he keep imagining them together again? She’d divorced him. Moved out. Moved on.
He stomped the fantasy of them getting back together, even for the night, under his heel. “There’s a treadmill in the weight room you can use.”
She stopped at the side of the bed, her fingers trailing over the hand-made quilt. She could probably tell him what type it was-the styles all had names like wedding ring or log cabin, but damned if he could tell one from the other. All that mattered to him was that it would keep her warm. Pity no one made the damned things with a layer of Kevlar. Maybe then he’d sleep easier.
“Where are you sleeping?”
Part of him wanted to answer “I’m sleeping in that bed right beside you, just like your husband should,” but that part of their marriage had ended even before she’d walked out the door. He shoved his emotions aside. If she wanted a business-like relationship, that’s what he’d give her. Tonight. After that the gloves came off.
He stalked to the connecting door and wrenched it open. “I’ll be in here. The rest of the team are scattered about the various floors.”
Her expression didn’t change, her shoulders didn’t relax. Did she wish he were sleeping on a different floor? Maybe he should change rooms with Andy or Troy. Distance between them might make this assignment more bearable.
“There are snipers with infrared goggles on the roof, a small platoon of armed guards patrolling the perimeter of the estate, along with a dozen attack dogs protecting the grounds.” He kept his voice even, flat. Unemotional. The complete opposite of the needs clawing his guts. “The house has the latest in security-infrared and motion detectors. The doors and windows are wired, and of course you’ve noticed the cameras in all the main areas. If you want to leave the room tonight, come get me first and I’ll give the detail a heads-up that you’re on the move.” And accompany her anywhere she went.
“Afraid I might be mistaken for an intruder?” From the amusement in her voice, she wasn’t taking this threat seriously. Damn it. She’d know that despite the precautions they’d taken, there was always a possibility their security could be breached.
“Let me know if you leave the room.” He pointed to the button on the side of the night table. “Until we get you set up with a personal panic button, press this to summon the troops if there’s any trouble. There’s another one in the bathroom, as well as in the closet. Any one of them will set off the alarm and bring the whole team running.”
She nodded her head in approval. Her fingers stroked the damned quilt, though he wondered if she was aware of what she was doing.
“Turn this and it’ll give you access to your panic room.” He turned the center of a rose carved into the mantel. A panel beside the fireplace sprang open revealing a small dark area no bigger than the closet.
She walked closer to examine the tiny room. “Is that a fireman’s pole?”
He nodded, unable to stop focusing on how her lips were parted in amusement, soft and plump, glistening with traces of her lip gloss. Kissable.
Focus on the mission, not your goddamned dick. Damn it, she was his principal. She was in danger and needed him focused on her protection.
Why the hell had he let Sam talk him into accepting this assignment? He should leave, let Troy take over the job; he was staying anyway. Except he couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not when there was a chance she might finally answer his questions.
He struggled to keep his tone even. “It leads to a room in the basement. It has its own air supply, first aid supplies, encrypted radio to head office, a direct line to the local police, as well as enough food and water for a month.”
“Sounds more like a bomb shelter.”
“It’s that as well. There’s a twenty-foot drop straight down, so make sure you’ve got a good grasp on the pole before you step off. Tomorrow we’ll do a practice run.”