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This didn’t feel temporary at all, but it was. It had to be. She looked forward into the future like she always did when she was overwhelmed, but now, instead of leaving the present, she returned to this moment, this man.
She looked at him as he made love to her. Her heart skipped a beat. A keen awareness of him slithered over her, his scent, his unbelievably piercing green eyes—those big, beautiful hands—and the powerhouse of muscle locking her to him. And she landed hard, the freefalling she’d been doing since she’d met him so long ago in a raucous frat house was now something hard and tangible like the ground she walked on.
It was love.
It scared her down to her soul, to the core of her heart where she had guarded herself for so very long and let go. He meant so much to her. Even though she knew leaving him would cut out her heart, they had an agreement. She would honor it.
Later, lying with him in the dark, remembering how he’d risked his life on her behalf was daunting. He could have been on a plane back to Niger but had instead left the safety of the escape vehicle to stay by her side. She felt humbled, loving him so much it hurt.
“Did you get any info out of your captive?”
“Yes. Olenska is on a cargo ship he’s tricked out to live and work on. He does have missiles, but that was all he knew.”
“That’s at least more than we had before. Once we get back to Isabelle and Kat, they can start to track down that ship.”
“And Volkov can spill the rest of his secrets,” Blitz said, his tone deadly.
Olenska. He was a filthy rich deal maker, rebel. He had the means to follow through. He didn’t have a conscience, but he had a cause. Her blood iced over knowing that she had killed his son and he wanted retribution. He and Anya. Well, let them come. Bree was going to meet them head-on in a clash of the titans. The Olenska’s were elusive. While her father was careful to never be seen in a country the US or Britain could extradite him from quickly, he’d slip up. Anya would, too. Bree wanted to be there when that happened.
He knew what rock to slip under and be protected.
Where was that rock?
People didn’t die around Olenska, they disappeared. There were missiles and that meant there were targets, but what country would be the unfortunate target?
* * *
Leonid Olenska’s phone beeped.After that fiasco in Moscow where they’d lost the woman, he had sent the photo one of his guys had taken of her when she had been unconscious to Anya. She was going to coordinate the attempt to kidnap Volkov at the Niamey Hotel. Her text came back.
That’s the bitch who killed Uri.
As the cool air in the cabin rushed over his heated skin, Anya’s words hit him like a sucker punch to the stomach.
He’d had her!
He swore viciously, the loss of his son smoldered beneath the surface of his anger. He’d had her and those buffoons had lost her. Now he knew what she looked like, he wouldn’t stop until he had her on this boat where he would slowly extract his revenge while his target burned.
13
Buck continuedto listen to Dr. Chiara Accardi. The night was still young after he and the team had been relieved from security duty. He normally didn’t go for high-maintenance women, and Chiara was one of those. It was clear she enjoyed his attention. She took pride in her appearance, was very well put together, and smacked of independence. The independence thing he didn’t mind. But his aim was mostly to bed her. It’d been a long deployment without many female options and the ones who had come along belonged to his teammates, who were in the hotel bar with him, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation before heading back to the embassy. Gator, Blitz, and Bree were still on their classified mission. He’d feel better once his brothers and their SEAL babe were back in the fold.
“So, what state did you cowboy in?”
“Wyoming.” The forsaken wilderness of Wyoming had filled him with a feeling of solitary awe. The miles and miles of forest were punctuated with craggy outcrops and crystal-clear lakes. There was a raw, wild beauty about it, but there was also a haunting aura of isolation. The silence of the uninhabited wilderness was eerie, almost smothering in its intensity, and many newcomers experienced such an overwhelming sense of loneliness. But to Buck, there was a sense of never-ending space that invigorated him all of his life. He suddenly felt terribly homesick.
“Ooh, that’s sexy. You had the whole outfit? Rode horses and branded cattle?”
“Yes, ma’am, I had the whole getup, hat, horse, chaps, boots, lariat, and spurs.”
“You must cut quite a silhouette in all that gear.”
“It’s a working man’s clothes,” he said. He wasn’t unused to tourists ranging around the state and interested in his family’s ranch. So, Chiara, trivializing his way of life, was something he’d heard before. It still didn’t matter. She was beautiful, had all the parts he was looking for, and she was interested in him.
“Surely, Chiara, you can’t be serious with this…this…yahoo?” Dr. Charles Wharton stood at their table. It was clear he’d been hoping for an opening to slide in and stake out the lovely Chiara for himself. He was going to be utterly disappointed.
Buck grinned at the pompous ass, his look saying he would have Chiara in bed before the next hour was up. She had removed her high heel and was stroking her foot over his calf.
“Oh, go away, Charles. I’m busy.” With a sour expression on his face and a scowling, condescending look toward Buck, he released a defeated sigh and marched away.
