Code Name: Ghost (A Warrior's Challenge 1) (12 page)

“Yes, sir.” It wasn’t supposed to come out
breathy, but it did.
Oh, God,
s
top looking at his lips.
Just get out of the car.
What was she waiting for? This wasn’t
a date. It was fortuitous, but definitely not a date, and not with
a man like him.

They stared at one another and the air
snapped with heated friction. He hadn’t released her arm, and she
wasn’t pulling away.

“Ms. Banks I…you…uh… shouldn’t feel
uncomfortable with Mace. He means well, and he’s concerned about
your welfare with the threat of the Shark hanging over the base.
But, if he’s bothering you I want to know about it.”

“Oh, no, Commander. Not at all, really.” Was
she the stupidest woman on the planet or what? She looked into her
lap. “Aside from Barry and Gord, he’s really the only friend I’ve
made here.”

His brow creased. “Not the only one.” His
gaze darted across her face. “We’re very fortunate you’ve joined
us. Everyone thinks that, including me. Good night, Ms. Banks.”

* * * *

Laying his head back, he released a gust of
air. He was in command of his men, his mind and his body. Why the
hell couldn’t he get control of the erection pulsing between his
legs? When he’d seen her on the beach, he couldn’t even make out
her features, but the air moved differently around her, and he’d
known who it was immediately. The draw between them was stronger
than a dehydrated man crawling for water. When she looked at him,
her cheeks flushed a beautiful rose color, and when her hand
trembled, he wanted to take it in his and soothe her.
This was
fucking ridiculous.

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his
cell and thumbed through the numbers of half a dozen women. Their
faces appeared in his mind, and each one paled in comparison to
Kayla. While his finger hovered over one number, his gaze shot to
the front of the building as she disappeared through the door.

After giving him a quick nod of thanks,
she’d vaulted from his car as if someone had poured gasoline over
it and lit a match. Women always asked him to come in after a
date—always. Why hadn’t she?
Because you weren’t on a date,
asshole.
He snapped his gaze to the garden, gripping the
steering wheel with one hand and hit the menu button to escape the
list with the other, sliding the cell back into his pocket. “Get
real, Thane,” he chastised, twisting the key in the ignition.
Spending time with Kayla was a mistake—a huge one.

Another sharp jab of regret poked at him.
Drumming his fingers on the door handle, he played the scene out
like he always did. The conclusion was obvious. He’d knock on her
door, she’d open it, and he’d stare at her like an idiot watching
her beautiful eyes question why he was there. Then she’d shoot him
down in flames like Masters, and that was enough to stop him from
opening his car door.

Why wasn’t she married with five kids? A
woman like her would make a man happy for the rest of his days. He
rubbed his chest, but the tightness inside wasn’t something he
could soothe with a hand. Somehow, she made him feel powerful and
unnerved him at the same time. He darted a look around the car,
hoping like hell she forgot something and he’d have an excuse to
bring it to her. Nothing. It was if she’d never been there, except
for the vibration she left inside him. Centering his thoughts on
what was appropriate didn’t help one damn bit. Besides, he had
competition.

Mace had a serious crush on the woman. She
was older than Mace by six years, but not old enough to dismiss
anything from happening between them. There was nothing stopping
Mace from pursuing her, not like him. Being her senior officer and
working in a classified department meant they weren’t permitted to
have any kind of romantic involvement. And what if they did? It
wasn’t like he was going to fall to one knee for the woman. He’d
never do that, but hell—he could see far enough into the future to
know she had the power to change him. It had never happened before,
and that in itself scared him. He’d known that the second he’d seen
her, which meant he had to stay far away from her.

He ripped the phone from his pocket again
and hit the key. “Hey, Libby, how ya doin’, gorgeous? Yeah, I’m
back in town,” He paused to listen. “Sure, be right over.”

Libby was always open to giving him the
release he needed. Blonde, built, and not interested in commitment.
That’s what he needed. That’s all he needed. As he drove from
Kayla’s apartment, his mood soured. The sense he was moving away
from warmth and toward a deep emptiness swarmed over him, but there
was no choice. He’d made his choices long ago.

He took too many chances, and ran the high
edge of percentages to accomplish a successful mission. An addict
needed drugs, and he needed his career in the same way. It wasn’t
only a career, it was a way of life, until God decided to end it.
That’s when he’d stop, and it meant never having a woman like
Kayla. Until a few weeks ago, he hadn’t cared.

Libby would distract him. In fifteen
minutes, he’d be awash in blonde hair, long legs and sweet thighs.
So why the hell did he feel like a man walking the plank?

She was on her own. Captain Redding pulled
the plug on her training two days ago, calling her bluff. The
midnight shift passed quietly, all the base vessels called in
secure alongside. The loud explosions on the beach had quieted. The
BUD/S recruits, in phase three of their demolitions training,
complete for the night. The
whip-whip
of chopper blades no
longer cutting through the balmy air.

Three am passed with silence. Her monitor
pulsed, and three downloads with intel from Egypt queued up.
Beginning to read the first one, she paused. Out of the corner of
her eye, she saw movement, and looked toward the glass-covered
wall, which was an enormous computer screen that activated when a
vessel from the base departed the dock. A figure stood in the
doorway watching her. The blood in her veins cooled. Narrowing her
eyes, she focused on the reflection. Definitely male, she
thought.

“Hi Kayla!”

Uh-oh.
He’d come around before, but
he didn’t stay long while John was training her. John always made a
point of getting busy when he stopped by on his rounds. She blew
her breath out and swiveled in her chair.

“Hi, Paul, all quiet on the security
front?”

He stepped into the room as if her talking
to him was an invitation, which it wasn’t. Calling him an odd young
man wouldn’t do him justice. The base had military police, base
security and a few rent-a-cops like Paul, who got the crappy jobs
and a paycheck to match.

“Everything looks quiet in Command,” he said
with an inflated tone, bobbing his head as if he knew what went on
in the room.

“Quiet as a graveyard.”

“I just thought I’d check up on you, Kayla.
Captain Redding said you were working by yourself now. You don’t
have to worry. I’m always around. I know this building like the
back of my hand.” He clasped his fingers together and bounced on
the balls of his feet.

“That’s good to know, Paul, thanks for the
backup.”

“Yeah, well, with the Blood Shark running
around and all. You just scream, and I’ll come running.”

She grinned at him. “I’ll remember
that.”

Paul shuffled his feet as he looked around.
“I think I know who the Shark is, and I gave my Lieutenant a few
leads.”

Crossing her legs, she reached for a binder
and opened it in her lap. She doubted he’d take a hint, and she was
at a disadvantage, not able to make an excuse and leave.

“You’re sure you’re all right? I mean, I
could come by more often and check on you.”

“No, thanks, Paul. I think I’m pretty safe
in here.”

“I have my black belt, and I’ve been running
every day. I’m going to be a SEAL, so you don’t have to worry. My
dad was a SEAL. It kinda runs in the family.”

“Good for you, Paul, that’s not an easy
challenge.”

“The Shark won’t be sneaking up on me. I’m
always alert. I have to be. It’s in my blood. You have to be highly
intuitive to be a SEAL.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said, seeing the
Commander standing right behind him. He hadn’t made a sound coming
in, and poor Paul was probably going to jump out of his skin in
one, two, three…”

“Watching out for Ms. Banks, are you?” the
Commander said, towering behind him.

Paul’s eyes bulged and he jumped sideways as
if his legs were spring-loaded. He definitely had good
reflexes.

“Commander! Yes, sir, she doesn’t need to
worry, sir. I’ll watch over her.” His dark, bushy brow popped as he
nodded vigorously, his pudgy chin jiggling.

The Commander regarded him indulgently, like
a small, zealous boy. “I’d appreciate it if you’d do that.”

She launched a searing look across the room
at the Commander, and shook her head quickly. Paul cranked his head
around and she slipped a Mona Lisa smile onto her lips. The subtle
grin on the Commander’s face told her she had reason to get even
with him.

“I need to talk with Ms. Banks, Paul. You
can continue on your rounds.”

“Yes, sir.” Paul tipped forward on the balls
of his feet. “You know we all call her Snow White.”

“Apparently,” he said.

“Yeah, and I know why, too.” Paul’s chin
giggled again as he bobbed his head.

A grin tightened the Commander’s jaw.
“Really, why is that?”

He lowered his voice, thinking she couldn’t
hear him. “Well, my Lieutenant says it’s because she’s hot, but I
think it’s because she’s, well you know—innocent.”

She rolled her eyes. Was this kid for
real?

The Commander’s expression hardened. “Your
Lieutenant should refrain from sharing his thoughts. On your way,
Paul.”

“Good night, sir.” Seeing her reflection in
the glass, Paul gave her a quick wave. “I’ll be back to check on
you later, Kayla.”

She waved her hand in the air, but didn’t
trust herself to say anything.

A coffee suddenly appeared across her
shoulder. “One cream and a half sugar, right?” the Commander
stated, taking a step back as she rotated her chair.

“Thank you, sir.” She cracked the plastic
lid, wondering how he knew what she liked. “You know, I think
coffee should be considered a food group for shift workers…and
virgins.” A small laugh jogged his broad shoulders. “What are you
doing up at this hour?” but she’d already spotted the duffel bag on
the floor next to the cabinet.

“I have a meeting,” he said, rolling the
other chair at her console in front of her. He leaned his elbows on
his muscular thighs and clasped his hands. Geared up in fatigues,
the man vibrated with strength and pecked at her feminine
instincts.

“Meeting? At three am?” She paused and then
clued in. He was leaving for a mission. “A meeting, right.” A tweak
of fear, stirred inside her, knowing he was going into combat.

“Ms. Banks, another woman has
disappeared.”

“I heard.” His gaze bit into hers. Is that
why he was here? She took a sip of the coffee. “Ah, base coffee,
subzero temperatures.”

His eyes blazed across hers without a smile,
yet the heat in them made up for the coffee. “You like it extra
hot, then.”

A smartass remark teetered on her tongue,
but she stopped herself, thinking there were a couple meanings to
that statement, and a mighty wave of nervousness washed through her
stomach. “Yeah, it, uh, lasts longer.”

“Ms. Banks, I want you to find someone to
walk with before and after your shifts. Now that you’re on your own
and I won’t be…” He paused, clenching his jaw. “I want you with
someone any time you leave this building, even if it’s Paul.”

“Commander, I’m—”

He jerked his head as if he was going to
bark at her. “I want you to do what I say.”

It came out as a definite and distinctive
order. Staring down into her lap was her best option, not wanting
him to know she was fibbing. “Yes, sir.” She twisted the pen in her
fingers, and then jolted forward as if she had something to do, and
maybe he should leave.

“Kayla—” His hand reached out to her, but he
stopped himself before touching her. He rarely called her by her
first name. It was always Ms. Banks. Occasionally, he’d throw in a
Snow White, but that was mostly his team. They always dropped in to
talk with her when they had a debrief.

Their interactions since the night he’d
found her condo had been cursory. A nod or a “good morning” was all
they exchanged. During the naval exercises with the SEAL teams, she
had to pour the coals on to keep up, but she never missed the fact
he consistently monitored her, probably waiting for her to screw
up.

“I hope your meeting is a success.” She
leaned over and scribbled a small note, tore it from the rest of
the sheet, folded it and reached out her hand to him. Before he
took it, she said, “Open it when things are the toughest.”

His expression softened as he reached for
the note. Instead of just plucking it from her hand, his finger
gently slid down hers as he took it. For one breathless moment, her
entire soul clenched tight with his touch, and her gaze darted to
his. Had he done it on purpose? As he rose, the chair creaked with
relief.

“Be safe, Ms. Banks, I want to look in your
eyes again.” He slipped the note in his pocket and silently walked
toward the door. Stopping in the anteroom, he twisted to look back
at her, just for a moment, and then the Ghost was gone.

Irony and perfect timing had just crossed
swords. She’d never done something so forward before. She kept the
laugh that bubbled up inside her. No doubt in a day she’d regret
giving him the note, but she found more and more with age, came not
only wisdom, but also bravery. Yet, a small spike of fear clutched
her heart. She prayed he would never have to open it.