Black Ops Warrior Read online

  “Yes, but—”

  “But nothing. Maybe someday your fear will be banished for good, but in the meantime it’s my job to remember and respect that fear. It’s my job to help you any way I can, and I will. Because the last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me in any way. I won’t forget again, I promise.”

  * * *

  It wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped to retrieve the wineglasses, Niall realized once he and Savannah were seated at a table for eight with the Thompsons and two other couples from their tour bus, ostensibly from Australia and England. He figured he’d have to settle for one set of prints this evening, maybe two, when the appetizer trays were brought to the table. And that’s when he realized the glossy surface of the china trays would hold fingerprints just as well as wineglasses. He watched the trays being handed from one person to another until they’d made the rounds. And when the waiter came to remove the now-empty appetizer trays, Niall excused himself, saying, “Forgot my stomach medication in my room. I’ll be right back.”

  He squeezed Savannah’s hand in a warning, and she rose to the occasion. “Don’t you hate when you forget something like that?” she commiserated, glancing from Niall to Mary Beth, who was verbally off and running practically before he’d left the table.

  “Don’t I know it!” Mary Beth exclaimed. “Why, one time I forgot my high blood pressure medicine and Herb had to take a cab back to the hotel to retrieve it, because I’m supposed to take it at the same time every day. And then there was that time I...”

  He could still hear her as he passed through the service door after the waiter bearing the dishes from their table. Five minutes and a hundred yuan later, he carried the trays up to his cabin on Deck Five. He quickly retrieved a small leather kit from his carry-on suitcase in Savannah’s stateroom, then returned to his own cabin and went to work.

  * * *

  “I’ll have the pork medallions and asparagus,” Savannah told the smiling waiter. Niall still hadn’t returned, so she pointed to his empty chair and said, “And he’ll have the beef tips in wine with the baked potato.” Can’t go wrong with beef and potatoes, she thought.

  “Yes, ma’am. Butter and sour cream on the potato?”

  Not willing to guess and guess wrong, she asked, “Could he have them on the side?”

  “Of course.” The waiter moved on to the next guest, and Savannah let out a tiny sigh of relief.

  A movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn, and suddenly Niall was there. “Sorry I took so long,” he told the table as he seated himself. “I was heading down when I passed a display of the most incredible pearls I’ve ever seen. I stopped for what I thought would only be a minute, and the saleswoman latched on to me like a piranha and just wouldn’t let me go.” He paused, then added in a droll tone, “Her commission must be pretty substantial.” A statement that was greeted with laughter from everyone at the table, because they’d all endured the hard sell at the jade, silk and terracotta replica factories.

  “Did you buy anything?” Mary Beth asked.

  He shook his head. “I escaped with my wallet intact, but...” He glanced at Savannah and winked. “I promised her I’d be back.”

  More laughter ensued, but that was the end of that.

  No one remarked on just how long Niall had been gone, although Savannah had agonized the entire time. The meaningful hand squeeze he’d given her before he left had tipped her off something was up, although she didn’t know what. And she wasn’t about to ask him at the table now that he’d deflected everyone else’s curiosity; she’d find out when they returned to her stateroom.

  * * *

  The other couples at their table had said their good-nights an hour later, leaving Savannah and Niall the lone occupants. She’d deliberately dawdled over her dessert to make that happen, and now that the dining room was nearly empty, she reached over to Mary Beth’s place at the table and curled a finger around the stem of the wineglass there. The plates and much of the silverware had been removed earlier, before dessert was served, but not the wineglasses.

  Niall reached out to stop her. “Is that why you ate your cheesecake a miniscule bite at a time?” he asked.

  She frowned. “I thought you needed fingerprints. Isn’t that why I had to spend the evening with Mary Beth?”

  He grimaced. “Yes, well...about that.”

  “If you’re going to tell me I didn’t have to, I might have to hurt you,” she warned, and he laughed softly.

  “I’m trembling in my boots,” he teased.

  “You don’t wear boots,” she reminded him. “So tell me why you don’t need fingerprints after all.”

  “I do need fingerprints. But I already got them.”

  Just that quickly, she realized how. “The appetizer trays.”

  Admiration for her perspicacity filled his eyes. “You’re quick. I like that.”

  “It wasn’t that difficult. You left right when they did, so...”

  “Let’s hope no one else made the connection.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Everyone else bought your story.”

  “But not you.”

  “I probably would have, if you hadn’t squeezed my hand right before you left.” She was silent for a moment, wondering how best to say what she suddenly wanted to say to him, what she’d been thinking about ever since he’d returned to the table. “You’re a very convincing liar, Niall,” she said finally. “You mix bits of the truth with your lies, which makes it easy to believe you.”

  Chapter 11

  Niall went completely still, his face a frozen mask Savannah didn’t recognize. That’s when she realized his expression was usually quite animated, and he exuded an innate charm it was nearly impossible to resist. The charm had vanished along with the animation, and she wondered why. Had he taken her words as an insult? She hadn’t meant them that way, so she struggled to explain.

  “That wasn’t a criticism. Truly. It’s just that I’m a fairly honest person. I know I told you about my one foray into a life of crime...” She smiled faintly and he smiled back, but she sensed it was an effort. “But that was a long time ago and I learned my lesson.” She stared at his hand, which was still laying on hers, then turned her hand to clasp his. “I want you to know I’ll never lie to you. And I wouldn’t even begin to know how to deceive you. What you see is what you get where I’m concerned.”

  “And you’re telling me this why?”

  She breathed deeply. “Because you’ve been honest with me from the start. You’re not looking for anything more than a vacation fling, and I get that. I thought that’s what I wanted, too.”

  “But...”

  “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for more. Not from you,” she rushed to add when his hand tightened on hers. “I’ll settle for whatever you’re willing to give me for as long as that lasts. And when you walk away...” She swallowed hard. “I’ll take that piece of you that you said you’ll leave behind. And I’ll gladly give you a piece of me to take with you when you go.” She smiled again because she had to smile. Or cry. “Someday I’ll find a man who wants more—I believe that with all my heart. But I’ll never regret this time with you.” She drew her hand away gently. “That’s really all I wanted to say.”

  * * *

  The bullet he’d taken to his heart all those years ago hadn’t hurt this bad, Niall admitted to himself, shaken by the force of his desire to vehemently deny her words. But he couldn’t. Because everything she’d said was the truth, save for one thing. He hadn’t been honest with her...except that he was temporary man material only.

  He scoured his mind for something—anything—to say that would walk the fine line between what he wanted and what he knew he could have under the circumstances. But he couldn’t think of anything other than, “Thank you for telli
ng me.” Which, when you got right down to it, was pretty much the coward’s way out.

  “You’re welcome.” The polite way this was delivered, and the tiny crinkles at the corners of her eyes told him exactly what it had cost her to reveal these things to him. And all you can say is thank you? he berated himself.

  He couldn’t tell her he was falling in love with her. That was out. And no way could he come clean about why he’d crashed into her life in the first place. Even if he was given the green light by his boss to tell her, he couldn’t risk being banished from her side, not while she still needed his protection. Not to mention you’re nowhere close to being ready to give up sharing her bed, his conscience piped up at the worst possible moment. But he had to tell her something.

  “You will find someone, Savannah. Someone far better than me.” Thinking of her with another man, admitting it couldn’t be him, was like tearing a bandage off in one fell swoop—you knew it would hurt, but it was better to get it over with quickly rather than dragging the pain out.

  She rolled her eyes in response to his heartfelt words, taking him by surprise. “Oh please. Not the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line. That’s so cliché, Niall. And frankly, I thought better of you than that.”

  “It’s not a line.” He bit the words out, anger springing out of nowhere. “I told you before, there are reasons I can’t share with you why I’m the last man with whom you should get involved.”

  “But I am involved, and it’s too late to go back and change it.”

  “Savannah...”

  “It’s okay. It’s just physical. I understand.” She stood up and unhooked her purse strap from the back of her chair, then slipped it over her shoulder. “You promised me the best sex of my life, and you’ve delivered so far. In spades. I don’t want to give that up. So please forget I said anything, and let’s just focus on what we do have for the rest of this trip.”

  * * *

  Niall made love to Savannah that night as if he could lay his heart at her feet without saying the actual words. As if he could show her how precious she was to him by taking her higher and further than he’d ever taken her before. If all he could give her was sex, he reasoned, he was going to make it so damn good for her she’d never forget him. The way he’d never forget her.

  And she gave back to him with every sigh, every moan. Every rasping cry of fulfillment that culminated in his name.

  He loved the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingertips. The taste of her on his tongue and the way she clung to him when he drove her up and over the peak time and again. But most of all he loved being buried in her body. So tight. So deep. Torturing himself by moving slowly, drawing her pleasure out until she couldn’t take any more and pleaded for release. Then giving her that release. Finding it together. Being the man she needed, if only in this way.

  They dozed when sleep overtook them, then woke and picked up where they’d left off. They writhed on the bed late into the night, until he sensed and heard the rumble of boat engines that indicated their midnight departure. Then he donned a condom one last time, and thrust deep.

  * * *

  In the wee hours of the morning, Savannah lay sprawled naked beneath the bedclothes in total abandon, her chest rising and falling in the slow cadence of deep sleep, like the princess in a fairytale. He’d worn her out, in the best way possible. He’d carried her into the shower the last time because her legs just wouldn’t support her, and had held her upright while he’d rinsed them both off as best he could in the close quarters. Then he’d dried her with gentle hands, carried her back to the bed and tucked her in. She’d been asleep in seconds.

  His body was exhausted, too, but his brain wouldn’t shut down. He kept hearing Savannah saying, Someday I’ll find a man who wants more—I believe that with all my heart.

  How he wanted to be that man. The one who would give her the more she deserved. But no matter how he tried to resolve things in his mind to give them the outcome he wanted, he kept coming up short. Even if he quit his job for her, how could she ever get past his initial assignment? He couldn’t see any way around that.

  Finally he gave up trying to sleep. He dragged some clothes on, scrawled a note and left it on the nightstand: Back soon.

  The entire boat appeared to be sleeping, except for the pilots in the wheelhouse. Niall climbed all the way to the top deck, but he saw no one. The night pressed in all around, and the stars seemed to mock him as he stood at the stern watching the moonbeams reflected in the rippling water the boat left in its wake.

  He stood there a long time, his thoughts going round and round the way they had in Savannah’s bed. Finally he gave himself a mental shake. Cut the pity party, Jones. It is what it is, and no amount of wishing will change it. You’ve got work to do. Focus on that. Find out who’s targeting Savannah and why. Put them behind bars. Then kiss her goodbye and don’t look back.

  “Don’t look back,” he whispered to the night. The stars. The moon. But none of them answered him.

  * * *

  Niall was descending the narrow, outside staircase that would take him back to Deck Five when something caught his eye and he froze midstep. “Son of a bitch!”

  His sharp gaze cut from the stairs to the deck above and the one below, but he saw no one. Someone had been here, though. Someone who’d known he’d be descending this staircase, and had laid a very clever trap.

  He carefully stepped over the narrow, clear plastic fishing line stretched across the stair right below him, and went down a few more steps so he could examine the trap more closely. He whistled between his teeth, then whispered, “Nice job,” acknowledging he couldn’t have placed this trip wire better himself. If he hadn’t seen a flash of the line in the moonlight, if his reflexes had been a half second slower, he would have pitched down the staircase and broken an arm or a leg, if not his neck.

  Which meant someone was trying to get him out of the way. Which also meant someone did want to kidnap Savannah, and saw him as a roadblock.

  He pulled out the Swiss Army pocketknife he had to put in his checked luggage every time he flew but which he’d retrieved along with his Beretta and ankle holster before they’d gone down to dinner. He cut the line close to the knots on each side. Fingerprints off the line were impossible, of course. But he might get lucky if he came back with his fingerprint kit and dusted the metal bars to which the line was attached, which was why he wanted to leave the knots in place. He also took the precaution of counting the stairs above and below the step that had held the fishing line, just in case the knots loosened now that the tension had been removed, and the tiny bits of plastic fell off. Or in case someone is watching and removes them the minute I leave.

  He shoved the fishing line into his pocket along with his knife, then continued down the staircase with a seeming nonchalance. But he remained alert and watchful all the way back to Savannah’s stateroom.

  She was still sleeping peacefully the way he’d left her, and he made a mental note to tell her everything in the morning, so she’d be on her guard. He unlocked his suitcase without turning on the light, and felt around for his fingerprint kit. Then he headed out again.

  * * *

  Savannah woke when a large male body depressed the mattress and slid beneath the covers. Double beds aren’t really made for two people, she thought, stifling a yawn. Unless they sleep really close. Suiting her actions to her thoughts, she snuggled up to the naked man in her bed, then pulled away. “Wow, you’re cold.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was early-morning hushed. “I had to go out, and it’s pretty cold on the river at night.”

  “Poor baby. I’ll get you warm.” She pulled the covers more securely over both of them and pressed her warm body against his cold one, trying her best to repress a shiver. Eventually the warmth inside the cocoon of bedclothes was enough to allow her to drift off again, when she sudde
nly realized what Niall had said and her eyelids flicked open. “What do you mean, you had to go out?”

  “Shh. I’ll tell you in the morning.” He set one hand on the curve of her hip and pulled her even closer.

  “Tell me now.”

  At first she thought he wouldn’t, but then he said reluctantly, “I couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk up on the top deck.”

  “You couldn’t—how could you not sleep? Are you made of iron?” She playfully tested his arm, then teased, “Well, one part of you seems to be made of iron, but they can’t all be,” which made him chuckle under his breath.

  But then he turned serious again. “When I was coming down the outside staircase, I found someone had set a trip wire across the stairs.”

  “What?” She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp to look at Niall. “Really?”

  He nodded, punched up the pillows behind him, tugged her into his embrace, then settled back against the pillows, his arms tight bands around her. “It’s not just my theory anymore, Savannah. Someone is out to kidnap you, and they need me out of the way.”

  “Oh my God. Someone tried to kill you? Because of me?”

  “I’ll acquit them of attempted murder...for now. A broken limb would have put me out of commission, too. There’s a doctor on board, but no real medical facilities. The captain and crew would probably have transferred me to a hospital on land, at least for a day or two, which would mean you’d be left unprotected. Exactly what they want.”

  She still couldn’t believe it. “Why would someone want to kidnap me? What do they have to gain?”

  “I suggested it before and you dismissed the idea, but I really think it has something to do with your job. The job you used to have, I mean.”

  “You don’t think...” She trailed off, not wanting to suggest what she didn’t want to believe. But the sinister implications of the blocked GPS signals immediately flashed into her consciousness. Was it possible?