Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (23 page)

Logically he knew it wasn’t his fault. He just couldn’t get past the guilt that said he should have done something more. That he could have done something more and Scottie would still be here.

Locking the thought down in an airtight box, Hunter rinsed Khalia’s hair and began soaping up her skin. He glided his palms over the wet silk of it, enjoying every moment of the easy silence between them and the hot water sluicing over their bodies. She was half asleep against him by the time he washed all the suds away and shut off the water. He opened the shower door to snag a towel and wrapped her up in it before scooping her up and carrying her out to the bed.

She let out a soft laugh and wound an arm around his neck, her other hand tracing over the frog bones tattoo on his right shoulder. “I haven’t been carried to bed since I was a kid.”

“No? Long overdue then.” None of the guys she’d dated had done this? What the hell kind of dipshits had she gone out with? The primal part of him loved being the first to do this.

After settling her against the pillows, he withdrew the towel so she could dry her hair, and slid in beside her to draw the thick covers over them both. The clock on the night table read one forty am, its bright green digital display and the light coming from the bathroom giving just enough illumination for him to see her expression in the darkness. She looked happy. Satisfaction slid through him that he’d put that look on her face.

Tossing the towel aside, Khalia rolled onto her side and laid her head on the pillow, a little smile on her lips. “You’re quite the romantic when you want to be.”

Her comment coaxed an ironic chuckle out of him. “Yeah, romance isn’t my strong point.”

She reached out and laid a hand against his chest, rubbing the spot over his heart in little circles. “That’s okay. You have more than enough of those already to make up for it.”

His heart squeezed at the sincerity in her words. She was getting to him more and more with each passing minute, and though it made him a self-centered bastard and it would hurt worse the longer he let this go on, he didn’t want to put distance between them now.

A low buzz from behind him signaled an incoming text. Khalia tensed as he rolled over to grab the phone from the night table on his side. It was from Tom. “You’re now booked on a flight leaving at oh-nine-hundred,” he told her, replacing the phone and turning back to her.

She was quiet for a moment, watching him in the near darkness. Then she inched closer to lay her hand on his chest again and he felt the tension melt out of his muscles. “I wish you could come back with me,” she said quietly.

Ah, hell, there it was. He’d been hoping to avoid this conversation, not wanting to ruin the last few hours of their time together, but maybe it would be kinder to set things straight right now. He snaked an arm around her back in a possessive move, in direct conflict with his answer. “Can’t. I’ll be working over here for the next while, at least.” He wanted to leave it at that, not have to come straight out and say this was all they could ever have.

She nodded and continued to rub those gentle circles on his skin. “So…you gonna respond if I e-mail you after this?”

“Of course I will.” Jesus, he wasn’t a total asshole, just…relationship challenged, and considering the logistics of things, couldn’t offer her anything beyond the next few hours. With a hard sigh, Hunter edged nearer and looped an arm tighter around the curve of her waist, drawing her closer. “I’ve never been much good at long-term relationships, let alone a long distance one, and I don’t want to hurt you by not being up front about that.” She’d been through more than enough shit already.

“Okay, thanks for the heads up.”

The ironic edge to her response made something tighten inside him. “Hey.” He slid his other arm beneath her neck, buried his hand in her damp hair to pull her face into his neck. She didn’t resist, snuggling into his body, her curves melding into him and her breath washing over his skin in warm puffs. Sheer heaven. “I never expected any of this to happen,” he admitted finally.

“Me neither.” She hooked a thigh over his, wriggled until she was pressed flush against him from neck to knees.

Yeah, he’d bet she hadn’t. And while he wouldn’t say it, she was the only woman who had ever tempted him to want something long term. “Just so you know, I’ve never done this before.”

Khalia pulled her head back slightly to look up into his face. “Done what? Cuddle afterward?”

“No,” he said on a laugh, then sobered. “Getting involved with the Principal on a job.”

“Oh.” She dropped her head back down. “Will this get you in trouble with Tom?”

“Dunno.” And he didn’t give a fuck if it did. Nothing on earth could have made him walk away from her tonight.

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything to him.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows already.” Hunter was betting that’s why Tom had just texted the flight details, rather than calling. It was his way of not condoning the relationship per se, but at least accepting it.

Khalia sighed softly and looped her arm around his ribs to stroke his back. Up, down, up, down, in a gentle, relaxing rhythm. He was supposed to be the one comforting her, and instead she was soothing him. He fumbled for something to say. Should he bring up what had happened in Pesh and let her talk it out, or act like it never happened?

“I’m glad you’re here with me right now,” she whispered against his skin. “I feel safe with you next to me.”

Ah, Jesus. Hunter closed his eyes as the knife twisted harder between his ribs. After tonight he wouldn’t be there to hold her in the dark when she had nightmares. And she would have them. By taking her to Pesh tonight he’d almost gotten her killed, and for what? They’d lost the cell
and
the hostage.

He nuzzled the top of her head, her damp curls catching on his stubble. “Good. Think you can sleep for a while now?” He hoped so, because she needed it. Plus it would spare them any more of this intense conversation he didn’t want to continue.

“Not sure. I’m tired, but I can’t stop thinking. Does that happen to you?”

“Yeah.” All the time.

“So how do you deal with it?”

“Depends on what’s causing it. With practice you learn to block most of it out.” He let his fingertips glide over the small of her back, exploring the delicate indent of her spine there.

She tipped her head back to rest her cheek against his shoulder. “Most of it,” she repeated slowly. “But not all of it.”

Shit.
He avoided her gaze in the dimness, fighting the urge to pull away. “No.”

“And what do you do with the rest of it?”

He didn’t want to answer that, but he wouldn’t lie to her and shatter this fragile intimacy between them. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Khalia stared at him for several long seconds, then surprised him by leaning up to place a slow, soft kiss on his lips. His hand automatically tightened on her hair but she eased away before he could deepen the contact. Her left hand kept up that gentle caress over his bare back, sweeping from shoulder blade to hip. She was quiet for a long time, the only sounds in the room their quiet breathing and the hum of the air conditioning unit beneath the window.

“I don’t know what to do now,” she said finally. “My whole reason for coming here was to finish what my father started, and instead…”

“Don’t,” he murmured, squeezing her tight and wishing he could stop the wheels in her head from turning. “Don’t do that to yourself. It won’t help anything.”

She blew out a steadying breath, and when she spoke her voice was rough. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know.” He kissed her temple, tucked her in close to his body, wishing there was something—anything—else he could do to take the pain away. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not your responsibility anymore. You came over here and tried to make a difference, which is a hell of lot more than most people in your position would be willing to do.” Every time he thought about it, it amazed him. Seeing that sort of conviction and courage from a civilian was damn rare, at least in his experience.

“I wanted to get those guys. I wanted them to pay.”

He understood her need for vengeance perfectly. “And they will. I promise you.”

A tiny nod against his shoulder. “Tom knew my father. Did you ever meet him? You never said.”

Hunter tensed, knowing he was on shaky ground. “No, I never met him.”

“He was a good man, we were really close. The media’s made him out to be some sort of rich, reckless philanthropist who acted without thinking, and they’re wrong. He wasn’t like that. Stubborn and too opinionated sometimes, but he wanted to make a difference. He lived his life trying to help others.”

All he could do was nod and frantically search for a way to change the subject. “I heard a lot about him.” He knew everything about the man, actually. He’d made it his business to know everything.

Khalia’s hand paused on his back. He heard her swallow. “I think what I hate most is that they tried to use him to turn people here against Americans.”

Dammit, he didn’t want to talk about this. The memories were too fresh. “I know.”

“They used his death like a propaganda campaign, spurring riots—”

“I
know
what they did, okay?” Hunter pushed away and sat up, turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed.

The sudden silence was so complete that he could hear his pulse drumming in his ears.

“Okay,” she said at last, her voice wary, as though she was afraid of upsetting him again. Then quieter. “Sorry.”

Ah, Christ. He dragged a hand through his hair and down his face, regretting his lack of control. Letting out a deep sigh, he half turned to look at her. She was propped up on one forearm, the covers clutched over her breasts, her expression uncertain. He felt like a douche.

“No, look, I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, and swung his legs back onto the bed. He leaned his back against the padded headboard, took a deep breath and released it slowly before he continued. “You asked me earlier how I handled ‘the rest of it’. Well, not very well, as it turns out.” Khalia was silent, watching him so intently that he couldn’t hide the truth from her any longer despite the potential landmine he was about to step on.

“A good buddy of mine was killed in one of those riots,” he said at last.

Her swift intake of breath sliced through the quiet. “Oh my God. I didn’t know—”

“I realize that.”

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“Did you hear about the attack on some foreign diplomats over here a few weeks back? It was all over the news.”

She nodded. “Two of them died, along with…an American security contractor,” she finished in a whisper, and he knew she was already piecing it together.

“Scottie Easton,” Hunter said. “My best friend.”

Cool, slender fingers touched the clenched fist he’d placed on the sheets. At the contact he let his hand open and she slid her fingers between his to intertwine them. Hunter felt oddly soothed by the gesture. “You were one of the contractors there with him,” Khalia finished.

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

She said it with such sincerity, without the overtone of pity that most people would have. He relaxed his shoulders. “Thanks.”

Khalia sat up and scooted closer to kneel at his side. The warmth of her body brushed against his. “So you took this job a few days after being there when your friend died in the riots caused by my father’s kidnappers.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She shook her head, searched his eyes. “Why? You must have hated the thought of working with me so soon after that.”

A grudging smile tugged at his mouth. “Well, I wasn’t exactly overjoyed.” And his first impression of her certainly hadn’t done anything to change that, either.

“Then why did you take the job?”

“Tom asked me to lead the team, and he never asks me for anything. And I wanted the same thing you did when you came over here.”

Her gaze was unflinching. “Justice.”

Hunter nodded, feeling such an intense bond with her that his heart pounded. Lifting a hand, he reached out to smooth a stray curl away from her cheek. “And I’m going to get it. For Scottie, and for you.”

Khalia leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. “It scares me to hear you say that, because I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about. And never like that.”

“I don’t plan on being a martyr,” he said, and stroked his thumb across her cheek, not knowing how to make her understand. “But I have to see this through. It’s who I am.” He’d vowed it silently to Scottie at his funeral. The SEAL in him would accept nothing less than finishing the job. His skill set, his honor and integrity were all he had left from that part of his life. Hunter would rather die than turn his back on a fallen brother and everything he stood for.

She swallowed and started to pull away, but not before he felt a trickle of moisture on the pad of his thumb. His heart constricted when he realized she was crying for him. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching for her. “It’ll be alright.”

Khalia embraced him and pressed her cheek to his, her breasts flush against his chest. “Hunter.”

“What, baby?” he whispered against her ear. He felt the answering shiver that passed through her at his intimate tone.

“I think I need you to distract me again.”

With a soft laugh, he tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “I’d love to.” Rolling her beneath him, he pressed her into the mattress and gently took her mouth, pushing away the emptiness for just a little longer.

Later, as she was curled against him fast asleep, he eased out of the bed when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. The moment he saw Claire’s name on the display, his pulse accelerated. Careful not to wake Khalia, he went to the bathroom and shut the door before answering. “Hey, beautiful, good to hear from you. You got something?”

“I think so. There’s a guy whose name keeps popping up on the militant chat rooms and he’s based out of Rawalpindi. He might be linked to some of the known members of the cell, so it’s probably worth a shot to track him down and at least check him out.”