Promises in the Dark (28 page)

“So this is home for you, then?” Rowan asked. She was looking for all the answers, and he’d never had many to begin with.

“I don’t know. I’m just looking for peace, Rowan.” It was the best answer he could give her. He’d let a hell of a lot go—some anger still threatened to boil over at times, but he blamed a lot of that on the fact that he was ripped away from his job, hadn’t walked away the way Rowan had. It was easier to do here, in a lot of ways, but he still hadn’t been able to escape the noise inside his own head. And yet, he’d forgiven himself for a lot of things—had to, or he’d have gone crazy. “You ask too many damned questions.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I do that when I’m tired. Scared. Angry. Don’t you ever get that way?”

His mouth quirked to one side, the closest to a smile she’d seen since he’d gotten angry with her. “All the damned time. The trick is not letting it show.”

“I don’t know if I want to learn that trick.”

He swallowed hard as he nodded in silent agreement. Without further pretense, he was pushing her seat back, taking off her clothes as the wind rocked the car gently, and yes, this was what she wanted.

Last night hadn’t been the first time since her husband had died, but it was by far the best—and the only time it had meant anything. She didn’t tell Tristan that though. Didn’t have to. The cocky man seemed to know that—and more—and she’d spent so many years playing it close to the vest that being this open, this fluid in his arms shocked her. Worried her.

But when his hands moved over her body, all of that disappeared into a fierce, rushing need. It was almost brutal in its intensity. And beautiful.

The man on top of her was also beautiful. Bronzed. Amber-colored eyes. Hard-jawed, stubborn, protective as all get out, as evidenced by his stance with the soldiers earlier.

Living in fear was something she’d promised herself she would never do and she had nearly caved in to it yesterday. If she stayed here, there would always be danger—and maybe that was okay, since she was ready for it now. On that horrible September day, she hadn’t been.

“You think too damned much, woman,” he breathed against her ear, and she opened her mouth to reply, but her retort became a loud moan instead as his mouth tugged her nipple between his teeth and his fingers moved between her legs, stroked her with a mastery that made her writhe against the leather seat.

Her lips curved in pleasure, a small, contented moan escaped and she realized that, as of yet, she hadn’t seen Tristan smile. Then again, she hadn’t smiled all that much in past years, and any laughter had been born out of relief rather than true happiness or humor. But she wanted to see him smile.

No, she wanted to make him smile. Wanted to make him murmur her name again, over and over, until she knew he was lost in the pleasure haze.

“You’re so beautiful … so beautiful,” she told him, unable to stop herself from calling this broad, strong man such a thing, but it was the only word that fit him right now.

She had no idea that’s all it would take, but after a second, he smiled, brilliantly, the shine reaching his eyes, and she simply melted.

There was no going back. She hadn’t felt this much like a woman in years. And she liked it.

His hand trailed along her bare skin, his palm somehow cool despite the sweltering temperature. She stretched out, nearly purring with contentment as his hand traveled lower still, dipping between her legs, making her shiver for an entirely different reason than a cool palm.

“Tristan.” His name on her lips, she turned into him as her hips began to sway against his. “You. Now.”

His arousal was rock hard against her belly, telling her that now worked for him as well.

He balanced deftly over her on the entirely too small space of the seat, her legs swiftly enveloping his, her sex cinching his cock like a delicious vise. She was going to lose it fast, and she needed him to do so as well, to spiral off that cliff with her, to come so hard he saw stars.

When she heard him cry out her name with a hoarse groan, she closed her eyes and let herself go.

“Did you just compare me to your computer?” Cael asked and she managed a weak laugh as she lay boneless against him because she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud.

“Kind of. But it’s a compliment really.”

He muttered something under his breath and she hoped she could stay in bed with him like this forever. Forget the rest of the world existed and keep the hard-muscled bulk of this man’s chest pressed to her.

She was incredibly, wonderfully sore in all the right places, and she propped herself up to study his face, as if trying to memorize every feature, even trailed a finger along a cheekbone, his jawline, tracing a path down to his shoulder.

He responded by cupping the soft mound of her breast and fingering a still-taut nipple, which made her smile. One of her legs was thrown over his, and even though they’d been making love for what seemed like the better part of the night, neither appeared wholly sated.

With Caleb, she felt as if she could go a lifetime and never be. Nor did she want to be, and based on her current situation, that might be a problem. Because with DMH looking for her, her lifetime could be considerably shortened.

God, she was tired of problems.

As she thought this, his phone began to ring. He didn’t move from next to her while he grabbed it. For a few seconds, he stared at the screen, and then he finally answered with a “Caleb Scott here.”

So official.

She watched his face go expressionless, but not before she caught the tic in his jaw right before he sat up and turned his back to her.

He was getting reamed by the person on the other end of the phone, kept his bearing stiff, his shoulders straight, and she knew she was responsible for this. When he spoke again, he kept his voice calm and controlled. “Vivienne Clare’s safety is my responsibility. I’m making an executive decision in order to do my job effectively. I’m sorry if that doesn’t work with your plans, but you put me in charge of this mission, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s not over yet.”

He closed his cell phone and placed it on the night table again, waited a long moment before he lay back down on the bed next to her.

“I wish you didn’t have to hear that.”

“I wish you weren’t in trouble because of me.”

“Vivi, with my job, I’m always in some kind of trouble. It’s like being a criminal, except most of the time, I’m on the right side of the law. And you’re thinking too hard—so just tell me what you’re worried about.”

“I want to ask you what you’re planning. What’s going to happen to me. But I don’t know if I actually want those answers. I’d rather spend our time pretending that none of these problems exist.”

For DMH, she was someone easy to pick off. Inconsequential. She should’ve been an easy hit. Would’ve been too, if Caleb hadn’t kidnapped her from her house.

She wasn’t a warrior like Caleb, didn’t know how much longer she could power through like this.

“We can pretend none of it exists until we get the all clear from my CO,” he said, and she didn’t push. Instead, she splayed her fingers on his chest and stared down at them.

“Vivi, we’ll figure this out.”

“Sure we will.” She looked up. “Will Dale—Ace—find out that I know who he really is?”

“We’ll try to keep that from happening.”

“How can I be sure he’ll leave me alone?” she asked, but she wasn’t really expecting an answer, because there wasn’t one.

“I’ll make it my life’s work to see that he doesn’t come anywhere near you ever again,” Cael said fiercely.

Her eyes shone. “Thank you, Cael. For everything. No matter what else happens, I’ll always have that.”

“What’s going to happen is that we’ll figure all of this out. I promise.” He tugged her wrist gently. “You’re too far away. Come closer.”

She didn’t bother to protest—instead, she moved into his arms, pressed her lips to his shoulder. “You make me feel warm all over.”

“Just warm? I’m going to have to be more effective.” With that, his fingers slid between her legs, massaging her clit, stroking her sex, making her nearly burst into flames and float away that very instant. “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“You are, Cael,” she murmured as her palms trailed along his shoulders and then down his back. “You have no idea how much you are.”

His entire body shuddered when her hand wrapped around his erection, thick, heavy and smooth.

Any doubts she had about not being skilled at sex faded as he gazed at her with open desire and the word
more
on his lips.

It had before, so easily. One minute, his heart was so full he was pretty sure it would burst, and the next his dreams had instead, and he’d lost it all.

“We’ve got to get out of here. There’s business to attend to back at Doc J’s,” he said, and she nodded and moved away from him.

They dressed quickly and he started the car and pulled back onto the road. The flooding wasn’t terrible but it would be slow going and he stared at the road like it held all the secrets of the universe, and for a while there was just silence between them.

Finally, Rowan asked, “The kids are leaving in the morning?”

“If the soldiers stay away that long. Plans around here change at a moment’s notice.” He didn’t want to say much more. But he did. “Doc J wants you to go to the next village and stay there until …”

“Until it’s safe,” she finished for him. “You’ve both told me that never happens.”

“These are extraordinary circumstances.”

“Will you try to sell me a bridge next?”

“Rowan—”

“I’m not leaving,” she said firmly. “When you take them, Doc J will be alone. I won’t let that happen.”

He found himself about to tell her that he didn’t want her around if there was trouble to be had, realized he had no business telling her what the hell to do and wondered why that bothered him.

“It’s nice to have people who worry about you. I know people did in Iraq, but I was still so lonely,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Lonely … and cold. No matter what I did, even in the goddamned desert, I was freezing half the time. And now …”

She paused for so long that Tristan thought she wasn’t going to continue. But then she did. “I can’t think about you without feeling warm. After two days. How is that possible?”

He didn’t know how to answer her, because he had no goddamned idea how or why his thoughts were consumed with her. Fuck, the entire ride to and from picking up Olivia and Zane was filled with music so he didn’t have to talk to either of them, could keep the feeling he had from being with her alive by letting it run rampant through his brain.

He swore he felt tears come to his eyes, which made no sense. He hadn’t cried in years. Iceman with frozen innards. Nothing bothered him. Not the war, this country … his past.

But her past, yes. She’d gotten through with a single touch and he knew Doc J would tell him that was a miracle. “What made you get out if you didn’t want to go home?”

He could ask that question even though they barely knew each other, could do so because they were so damned similar he felt as if he already knew why.

“It wasn’t anything specific. It was all just too much one day. I was fine when I went to bed, and then the next morning I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore. But I did—had to—for another seven months, six days and twelve hours.”

He didn’t comment about her not knowing the minutes. Instead, he said, “Makes sense to me. I’m not sure you should feel great being on my wavelength, though.”

She laughed. It was a wonderful sound, one that cut through the tension and the fear and made him feel human.

“I wouldn’t mind if … you, ah, came to my tent again,” she told him.

His eyes glazed with a look she recognized easily now—lust. Want. Need. “I’ll take you up on that invitation, Rowan, if that’s really what you want.”

“If that’s what you want,” she said quietly. “Because I’m not that girl who hurt you.” It wasn’t hard to read his thoughts now, he supposed, especially since his fists had tightened and his entire body had tensed, and she continued, “I’m not that girl any more than you’re my deceased husband. I’m scared of being left by someone I love, could love, yes, but I’m willing to take the chance, no matter how crazy it seems or how fast it happens. You don’t get many opportunities like this in life. And if it brings us some peace …”

It had brought him peace already. Forty-eight hours and he felt better than he had in years.

Sometimes you need to lose the fight to win the war
, Doc J told him once, and for the first time, Tristan understood what he meant. “Coming to your tent is what I want,” he told her, and they didn’t need to say anything else as they drove along the flooded roads toward Doc J’s.