Code of Control (4 page)

Chapter Four

Complicated
could not begin to describe how Nolan felt while watching Charlotte squirm
under his stare. He hadn’t meant to unsettle her, or have her turn combative,
but that’s what the last five minutes worked themselves into, Charlotte Raven
combating every syllable out of his mouth.

He slipped the
gearshift into drive, and then tore away from the road’s shoulder. Expecting
reprimand for ruining perfectly good gravel, he was mildly surprised she did
not say a word. Instead, she sat in her seat, her eyes glued to the pavement
ahead, looking as if fuming over the fact he had a hard on that would not quit
and consequently blamed her for it.

Dammit. God made
a beautiful woman, and he’d had that woman under him most of last night,
writhing in ecstasy to his masterful seduction. Heading the Outgoing Securities
Tactical team took a lot out of a man. He’d wanted recharging of the batteries
last night…and yes, again this morning. What man in his right mind would be
able to do what he did, day after day, and not desire a little recreational fun
to ward off the nightmares? He could not ward off one in particular; the one
that nearly cost him a limb, but such was life.

All of a sudden,
the scar on his shoulder hurt like fireballs from the bottom of Hell. Nolan
rolled both shoulders, hoping to ease the pain. Nothing worked, and since he’d
been driving for the better part of four hours, unless he gave over the wheel to
his new recruit he was going to be one hurting unit by the time they made it to
their destination and started working out the kinks with this partnership.

He reached over,
tipped up the screen to his laptop, pressing his thumb to the pad. Quick entry
into the system, he kept his eyes on the road and practically felt his way
around the keyboard.

“Do you want me
to do that for you?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“I can, if you
want me to.”

“I don’t want
you to.” His attention riveted toward her then back to the road. “I got this.”

“Well, I don’t
want to get into an accident, so either I type what you need typed, or you get
your hand off that keyboard, both hands of the wheel, and your eyes firmly
ahead.” She jerked her head toward the open laptop.

“Two seconds,
tops,” he muttered.

“You get a half
second, and then I’m closing the connection on you, whether done or not.”

Nolan smiled. He
was already into the system, typing one-handed
OSHIT
’s password. “Only
need a half second more, sweetheart.” That promised half-second later, he put in
the information to his contact, telling him he was almost at the maneuvers
site. He was going to be a little late, a small detour causing riff between
them, but again…such was life. He exited the system then closed the laptop. “No
accidents, no near misses, nor a splattered gopher,” he admitted.

“Don’t fucking
care. The next time you want to use your computer while driving…pull fucking over!”

“Bossy much?”

“No. It’s just that
I would prefer to see the end of every day still in one piece.”

“So would I,” he
said.

“Then why take
the risk?”

“I take risks
because it keeps me on my toes. I do things most men would never dream of doing
to get the adrenaline high, same as you likely do to get your highs.”

“I don’t do
things to make myself feel better, or have highs, Mr. Morgan. I do what needs
doing to save humanity from itself.” She sat back in her seat, arms crossed,
mutiny shielded by her lowered lashes.

Nolan wasn’t
fooled. He could smell her anger a mile away, all of it directed at him.

“Are we going to
be in this vehicle much longer?” she suddenly asked, trying to pry out of him
what he refused to supply her.

“Not much.”

“How much is not
much?”

“Twenty minutes.
Thirty, maybe.”

“That’s a lot of
not much, Mr. Morgan.”

“Why? You can’t
wait twenty minutes longer? Impatient?”

“I need to use
the restroom. Not once in four hours of driving through depleted land,
abandoned farms, missing sex-starved sheep, and open highways now lacking
gravel, have you even offered or asked.”

Turning to catch
the look on her face, he now felt her anger as just. He sent her a wry smile,
hoping she understood. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a partner. Protocol must
have taken a back seat. Will not happen again. Promise.”

She jumped on
only part of the excuse. “Partner?”

Nolan drew in a
deep breath. With the cat out of the bag, he might as well tell her now, or it
was going to be a very long twenty minutes to their destination.

“Yes, partner.
You’re not my recruit, you’re my new partner. When we get to where we are
going, you and I will be partners in every sense of the word. Is that going to
be a problem for you?”

Her blue eyes
lit up like the Fourth of July, Charlotte now facing him. “That would depend,”
she said.

“On what?”

“On what this
partnership entails.”

“Secrecy.”

“I can do
secrecy,” she said brightly.

“Trust.”

“I trust you not
to shoot me, same as you should trust me not to shoot you,” she said
laughingly. “I can’t promise anything about smothering you with a pillow in
your sleep, however.”

Amusement to
this was a harsh disappointment. He made it known, his tone clipped. “Ms.
Raven, I would hope you never shoot me, same as I would hope that it was only a
joke you’d kill a man in his sleep.”

“It was.”

“It’s the reason
for my scar,” he openly said.

Her soft gasp
reached into his gut, squeezing tight. “The scar on your shoulder?”

“The very one.”

Charlotte’s
smile fell. “Did your partner try to kill you in your sleep?”

He held up his
hand before she could ask more. “Hold off on the twenty questions. Once we get
to maneuvers you can ask what you like, same as I will ask you everything there
is to know about you…everything that was not in your interview packet marked
confidential.”

“This sounds
more as if you’re taking me to couple’s therapy in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“Iowa is not the
middle of nowhere, Charlotte.”

“Could have
fooled me,” she said glibly.

“Have you ever
been to couple’s therapy?” Expectant of the answer, he could not wrap his head
around the fact she likely had many lovers and would need psychological
counseling because of them.

She nodded,
almost reluctantly. “Yes, a long time ago.”

The breath drawn
from his lungs, his recovery was slow. “You’re not old enough for anything to
be a long time ago.”

“I’m twenty-four,
as you well know. That’s a lot of years to account for in a girl’s life.”

“A lot of years
with other men, or just a few? And I’m thirty-five, in case you wanted to know.”

“How many men I’ve
had in my life is none of your business, Nolan Morgan. And really, only
thirty-five?”

He nodded. “Only
thirty-five. Why? Do I look older?”

She made a head
to toe sweep of him then smiled. “No. Not older, just distinguished, of which
makes you seem older.”

“How old did you
think I was?” he asked, both brows arched.

“Forty-two,
forty-seven tops.”

“Couldn’t put even
a moment’s pause in that answer, could you?” he asked teasingly.

“If you want
trust and truthfulness, you’re going to get it from me as open honesty. I hope
the same is returned.”

“Haven’t I been
open and honest with you?” Only his left brow had arched this time, while
pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth to hold back a smile.

“Not exactly.”

“Oh? Do
elaborate.”

“First off, you
still have not told me where it is we are going.”

Nolan chuckled. “Can’t
let that one go, can you?”

“Nope.”

His upper lip
tipped, he had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. When looking at her
now, it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. He could not imagine
what the next two weeks was going to do to his psyche or physical well-being. He
would need therapy, or detox, neither looking beneficial to the rest of his
career.

“Don’t need to
tell you…because here we are,” he said, turning down a dirt road clearly marked
as
Dead End
.

Charlotte reverted
her attention forward. “Here, where? There’s no road sign other than that one.”
She even pointed to it.

Nolan smiled. “Maneuvers.”

She stared at
the passing scenery. “This looks like a working farm to me, not a place for
maneuvers.”

“It is.”

“It is? Whose?”

He drew in a
deep breath, held it, and then smiled, expelling the air slowly. “Mine.”

“Yours’?”

“Yep. All mine.
Every last cow and unplanted corn field.”

“What are we
supposed to do here? Plant the corn?”

Nolan chuckled,
driving the Hummer up to the farmhouse. “I was hoping you’d milk the cows and I
took care of the fields.”

“Are you
serious?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I mean…you’re joking, right? This is
a huge prank on the newbie, right?”

He parked the
Hummer under the old elm tree then shut down the engine, turning in his seat.
“No joke, sweetheart. We are going to spend the next two weeks here, getting to
know each other. As partners, we will need to trust each other beyond anything
you could possibly imagine. I paid the price for an untrustworthy partner. I will
not make that mistake again. I’m going to do things differently and this is how
it’s going to be, whether you like it or not, and if you don’t like it, I can’t
keep you on as one of the Team and you will have to leave.”

Charlotte turned
and stared at the old farmhouse, pursing her lips. “I’ve never milked a cow a
day in my life.” She then turned to face him. “Am I off the team if I do it
wrong?” she whispered.

Without
thinking, he picked up her hand and held it. “I’ll teach you everything you
need to know about milking a cow, Ms. Raven…among other things you still need
to learn.”

“Charlotte,” she
said.

“I know,” he
rasped out, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, mesmerized by the way the
color of her eyes changed with her moods.

“Mr. Morgan?”

“Nolan, please?”

“Nolan,” she
whispered.

Dammit. He could
not control what was going to happen, even if facing the possibility of
explosion. He put it aside for far too long and it was now do or die. He reached
behind her head, grabbed her soft nape, drew her close and kissed her. Charlotte’s
hand released from his grasp, she set both on his chest, the warmth of her
fingers seeping into his muscle.

Their kiss four
hours overdue, they gave it everything they had. Fifteen seconds later, it was
over, both breathless.

“You can’t…” she
said, wide eyes darting across his face to settle on his mouth.

“I know,” he
rasped out. “But saying I should not doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“You should not…we
shouldn’t…,” she helplessly sputtered.

“Charlotte,
honey?”

“Yes?”

His hand still
on her nape, he kneaded her tense neck muscles. She relaxed under this touch.
“Shut up and kiss me,” he said.

“Shut up and…” She
sounded flabbergasted.

“It won’t hurt
you in the least. I promise.”

She balked. “It
may not hurt me, but it’s wrong, and you know it is.”

“Yes, I do know
it’s wrong, but I don’t care anymore.”

“Well…you
should. If I have to stay here with you, you need to control your urges. You
can’t keep kissing me whenever the mood overrides your sanity.”

He drew back,
her icy tone filling his marrow. “My sanity has been in question for four fucking
hours.” When she did not comment, he added, “Fine, I’ll make you a deal. Two
weeks: no touching, kissing, or looking at each other in the wrong way. How’s
that sound?”

She scoffed at
this. “You’ll never make it even one week.”

“Me? What about
you? Eyes glassy, licking her lips in anticipation, fluttering heartbeat in her
neck, tense and expectant. It’s all there, so don’t call the kettle black when
the pot is just as dark, and that pot is lying through her teeth about wanting to
have sex with me again.”

“I can make it two
weeks. No doubts. It’s you who needs a code of control.”

“A what?”

“A code of
control. You know, an escape code for when things get too unsettled or too hard
to handle.”