Bound to Danger: A Deadly Ops Novel (25 page)

He swallowed hard and pulled her closer. “Really?” The hopeful note in his voice was too much.

She couldn’t believe he’d held on to this for so long, that it had kept them apart. “Yeah. Since we’re getting everything out in the open, I don’t want anything casual. I don’t know how we’re going to make things work with us living in different states, but I want to try.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “I wasn’t sure what your reaction would be to what I told you. Truthfully I’m a selfish bastard. I wasn’t even sure I was going to tell you about Afghanistan. And I don’t want anything casual either. It’s why I’ve taken off the next couple weeks. I don’t want to do anything but spend time with you—if that’s what you want.”

Pure relief poured through her. “That’s exactly what I want. And no matter what happens between us, no running or hiding—ever. I’m a big believer in communication, and if you have a problem or are afraid of something or whatever, talk to me.”

“I can do that—I
will
do that. And I know it’s probably too soon, but I’ve already talked to Burkhart about taking a job at one of our Miami offices—something you’ll have to sign a confidentiality agreement about since I’m not supposed to tell you unless we’re married. It would mean less travel and while I’d still take rescue missions, I wouldn’t do any undercover work anymore. Nothing black ops.”

It took a moment to digest his words. He’d told his boss this even before their conversation,
before
his confession to her. Which meant at least on a subconscious level he’d trusted her enough to lay himself bare, to hope
that she’d forgive him—not that he needed any forgiveness from her. Not for her brother. He certainly wasn’t running now. “That’s a huge decision. Are you sure?” She didn’t want him to make a decision like that now, coming right off an intense operation.

With one of his hands, he cupped her cheek, his green eyes intense. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. When Mihails took you, I knew I’d give up
anything
to be with you. I know long distance can work, but I don’t want to start our relationship that way. I want to wake up to you every morning. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Maria. And . . . I know I won’t again. I never stopped caring from you. Not for eight fucking years. When I saw your name on that survivor list, fuck, I think I knew even then I wasn’t letting you go again. We deserve a chance.”

Tears burning her eyes, she leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him. Yes, they did. The fact that he was willing to uproot for her told her everything she needed to know. He loved her as much as she loved him.

Zero dark thirty: after midnight and before dawn.

Six months later

C
ade eased open the door to the house he shared with Maria. He quickly disarmed the alarm he’d had installed, then reset it. It was after midnight and while he could have taken a flight home tomorrow, he’d hopped on a red-eye because he’d wanted to get home to her.

Home.

It was still a strange concept. He’d never felt at home anywhere except with her. Even his house in Virginia had never been one. It had been a place he slept at when he wasn’t on missions. This place with the woman he loved was everything to him.

She
was everything to him.

This last op had only been a week long, but it felt like an eternity being away from her. The house was quiet and even though she’d told him earlier that she’d wait up for him, he had a feeling she’d probably passed out reading, as she so often did.

He left the lights off since he could navigate through their place blind and hurried toward the stairs. Opening
the door at the top, he paused in the doorway, unable to fight his grin. Sure enough, the lamplight cast a low glow on their room and Maria was asleep with a book open across her chest. Wearing one of his old Marine Corps T-shirts, which was ridiculously big on her, and nothing else, the woman looked like pure sex.

As quietly as he could, he put his bag by the end of the bed and stripped off his clothes. His body was practically rejoicing at the thought of sleeping in a soft bed instead of a crappy cot in a warehouse full of a team of NSA field agents and analysts—in the middle of the damn desert. He loved his job, but field ops weren’t something he wanted to do forever. Hell, he
couldn’t
do it forever even if he wanted to. It was why he’d been assigned as one of the NSA liaisons to work with local law enforcement and the feds. Miami was a hotbed of activity, so he’d been insanely busy here the last five months. And the work was fulfilling.

Burkhart had pulled him in for this recent job, but Cade had a feeling it was because he’d wanted to gauge how much Cade missed travel. Which he didn’t. It was difficult to want it when he had Maria back home waiting for him.

Before getting into bed, he pulled something out of his bag he’d been holding on to for the past couple of months. The second the bed dipped under his weight, Maria’s eyes flew open. Smiling softly at him, she closed the book and moved it to the nightstand before snuggling closer to him. “I missed you,” she said as she hooked her arm and leg over him. Her voice was thick with sleep.

“I missed you too.” He covered her mouth with his,
stroking her lips open with his tongue in soft, teasing strokes.

When she pushed on his shoulder, rolling him over so she could straddle him, his entire body pulled taut with need. She slid down his body, her heat rubbing over his hard length, and he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties.

She grinned down at him, as if reading his mind. “I wanted to be ready for you when you got home,” she said as she tugged her shirt over her head.

His brain nearly short-circuited at the sight of her petite, tan body on his. He couldn’t wait to devour her. But first . . . “Close your eyes.”

Her lips pulled into a slight frown, but she closed them. Taking a deep breath, he lifted her left hand up from his chest and slid a diamond ring onto her ring finger. Before he’d told her to open them, her eyes flew open and zeroed in on her fingers. She let out a tiny gasp and lifted her hand, staring at the solitaire diamond.

“I was going to put it on you while you were asleep,” he murmured, his heart beating overtime. He’d wanted to propose for months but had been trying to wait until the right time. On the flight back he’d realized there would never be a perfect moment. And he wanted everyone to know she was taken. “Marry me?”

“Yes.” Smiling, she covered the small distance between their bodies and kissed him, hot and hungry.

Rolling his hips against her, he shuddered at the feel of her pressed to him. Maria had given him everything he’d never realized he was missing. A home, a family, a love so intense it awed him, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her.

I owe a huge thanks to my editor, Danielle Perez. Thank you for pushing me to make this book shine the way it’s supposed to. I’m also incredibly thankful to the entire team at NAL: Christina Brower, Jessica Brock, Ashley Polikoff, Katie Anderson, as well as cover illustrator Blake Morrow. You all do so much behind-the-scenes work and it’s very appreciated. To my agent, Jill Marsal, thank you for your continuing guidance and support.

As always, thank you to Kari Walker for reading the early version of this book (and all my books). I would be lost without you. Tanya Hyatt, assistant extraordinaire, I’m eternally grateful for everything you do. Without your help I wouldn’t get to write as much as I do. For my husband, who not only puts up with my erratic schedule, but is my sounding board and go-to research guy for all things military. It goes without saying that any mistakes in the book are my own. For my readers, I’m so thankful for all of you. Thank you for reading my books. I’m also thankful to God for so many opportunities.

Don’t miss the first book in the exciting Deadly Ops series by Katie Reus

TARGETED

Now available from Signet Eclipse.

Marine Corps Scout Sniper motto: one shot, one kill.

S
am Kelly could see his GP tent fifty yards away. He was practically salivating at the thought of a shower and a clean bed. But he’d settle for the fucking bed at this point. He didn’t even care that he was sharing that tent with twenty other men. Showers were almost pointless at this dusty military base in hellish sub-Saharan Africa anyway. By the time he got back to his tent from the showers, he’d be covered in a film of grime again.

Four weeks behind enemy lines with limited supplies and he was also starving. Even an MRE sounded good about now. As he trekked across the dry, cracked ground, he crossed his fingers that the beef jerky he’d stashed in his locker was still there, but he doubted it. His bunkmate had likely gotten to it weeks ago. Greedy fucker.

“There a reason you haven’t shaved, Marine?”

Sam paused and turned at the sound of the condescending, unfamiliar voice. An officer—a lieutenant—he didn’t recognize stood a few feet away, his pale face flushed and his skin already burning under the hot sun. With one look Sam knew he was new in-country. Why the hell wasn’t the idiot wearing a boonie hat to protect
his face? Hell, it had to be a hundred and thirty degrees right now. Yeah, this dick was definitely new. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hassling Sam.

Sam gave him a blank stare and kept his stance relaxed. “Yes, sir, there is. Relaxed grooming standards.”
Dumbass.

The blond man’s head tilted to the side just a fraction, as if he didn’t understand the concept. God, could this guy be any greener? The man opened his mouth again and Sam could practically hear the stupid shit he was about to spout off by the arrogant look on his face.

“Lieutenant! There a reason you’re bothering my boy?” Colonel Seamus Myers was barreling toward them, dust kicking up under his feet with each step.

The man reminded Sam of an angry bull, and when he got pissed, everyone suffered. He was a good battalion commander, though. Right now Sam was just happy the colonel wasn’t directing that rage at him. Guy could be a scary fucker when he wanted.

“No, sir. I was just inquiring about his lack of grooming.” The officer’s face flushed even darker under his spreading sunburn. Yeah, that was going to itch something fierce when it started peeling. Sam smiled inwardly at the thought.

“You’re here one week and you think you know more than me?”

“N-no, sir! Of course not, sir.”

The colonel leaned closer and spoke so low that Sam couldn’t hear him. But he could guess what he was saying because he’d heard it before.
Stay the fuck away from Sam Kelly and the rest of my snipers or I’ll send you home.
Rank definitely mattered, but to the colonel, his few snipers were his boys, and the man had been in more wars
than Sam ever wanted to think about. Sam had seen and caused enough death himself to want to get out when his enlistment was up. That wasn’t too far off either. He’d been to Iraq, Afghanistan, a few places in South America that weren’t even on his official record, and now he was stationed in Djibouti, Africa. Or hell, as he liked to think of it. He loved his job and he loved his country, but enough was enough. Sam just wished he could figure out what the hell he wanted to do if he got out of the military.

He watched as the colonel started talking—loudly—to the new guy. Getting right in his face as only a pissed-off Marine could. Sam almost felt sorry for the guy, but what kind of stupid fucker didn’t know that since the environment here was so dirty that staph infections were rampant, grooming standards were
different
? That was one of the reasons he and a thousand other guys his age had relaxed grooming standards in the bowels of this hellish place. But they also cut him slack because he was a sniper. Sometimes he had to blend in with the populace, among other things. He might be stationed in Africa, but he’d just gotten back from—where else?—Afghanistan. He’d stayed holed up for days in that dank cave just waiting—

“Sergeant, in my tent. Now.”

Sam blinked and realized Colonel Myers was talking to him. He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The colonel was still reaming out whoever the newbie was, but Sam always followed orders. Looked as though that shower was going to wait. The walk to the big tent in the middle of the base was short.

As he drew the flap back and stepped into the colonel’s tent, he stilled when he spotted a dark-haired man leaning against a table with maps on it. He looked as if
he thought he had every right to be there too. Interesting. A fly landed on Sam’s face, but he didn’t move. Just watched the man, ready to go for one of his weapons if need be. He didn’t recognize him and he wasn’t wearing a uniform.

Just simple fatigues and a T-shirt that stretched across a clearly fit body even though the guy had to be pushing fifty. There was something about the man that put Sam on edge. He was like a tiger, coiled and waiting to rip your head off. The man’s eyes weren’t cold, exactly, but they were calculating.

Carefully the man reached for a manila folder next to him and flipped it open. He glanced down at it. “Sam Kelly. Originally from Miami, Florida. Grew up in foster care. No known family. One of the best damn snipers Myers has ever seen. Sniper school honor grad, aptitude for languages, takes orders well, possibly a lifer.” He glanced up then, his green eyes focusing on Sam like a laser. “But I don’t think you’re a lifer. You want a change, don’t you?” The man’s gaze was shrewd, assessing. Sam didn’t like being analyzed, especially by a stranger. And the guy didn’t even have an accent, so he couldn’t place where he might be from. Nothing in his speech stood out.

Who the hell was this guy? And how the fuck did he know Sam wanted a change? It wasn’t as if he’d told anyone. Sam ran through the list of possibilities. He’d been on different operations before, sometimes working for the CIA for solo things, and he’d been attached to various SEAL teams for larger-scale missions, but he’d never worked with this guy before. He did have Sam’s file, though—or Sam guessed that was his file in the man’s hand. He could just be bluffing. But what would the point of that be? He dropped all semblance of protocol
since this guy clearly wasn’t a Marine. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“You did some good work in Cartagena a few years ago.” He snapped the file shut and set it back on the table.

Sam just stared at him. His statement said a lot all by itself. That mission wasn’t in his official jacket, so this guy knew classified shit and was letting Sam know it. But since he hadn’t asked a question or introduced himself, Sam wasn’t inclined to respond.

The man’s lips quirked up a fraction. As they did, the tent flap opened and the colonel strode in. He glared at the man, cursed, then looked at Sam, his expression almost speculative. He jerked a thumb at the stranger. “Whatever this guy tells you is the truth and he’s got top-secret clearance.” He snorted, as if something was funny about that, then sobered. “And whatever you decide . . . Hell, I know what you’ll decide. Good luck, son. I’ll miss you.” He shook Sam’s hand, then strode out of the tent.

Miss him? What the hell was he talking about?
Sam glared at the man in front of him. “I asked you once who you were. Answer or I’m out of here.”

The stranger crossed the short distance and held out his hand.

Sam ignored it.

The man cleared his throat and looked as if he was fighting a smile, which just pissed Sam off. “I’m Lieutenant General Wesley Burkhart, head of—”

“The NSA. I know the name.” Sam didn’t react outwardly, but the gears in his head were turning. “What do you want with me? I thought you guys were into cryptography and cyber stuff.”

“We are, but I’m putting together a team of men and
women with a different skill set. Black ops stuff, similar to the CIA, but with less . . . rules. I want to offer you a job, but before I go any further, you need to know that if you come to work for me, Sam Kelly will cease to exist. You will leave your past and everything in it behind.”

Sam stared at the man, overwhelmed by too many feelings. Relief being one of them. Leaving his identity behind didn’t seem like such a bad thing at all. Finishing the rest of his enlistment in shitholes like this wasn’t something he looked forward to. He’d seen and caused so much death that sometimes he wondered if God would ever forgive him. The idea of wiping his record clean was so damn appealing. Maybe this was the fresh start he’d been looking for. Except . . . he touched the hog’s tooth hanging from his neck. He’d bled, sweated, and starved for this thing. For what it represented. It was part of him now. “I’m not taking this off. Ever.”

The other man’s eyes flicked to the bullet around his neck, and the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly. “Unless the op calls for it, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Okay, then. Heart thudding, Sam dropped his rucksack to the ground. “Tell me everything I need to know.”