High Octane (Texas Hotzone 2)

“We almost lost one of the Aces while trying to save the young son of one of our third-world allies. We saved the kid, but he never made it to his parents. There had been dealings with an outside agency that was supposed to be on our side, but wasn’t. We don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn’t right.

“Soldiers take orders without question. Bobby, Caleb and myself all agreed we weren’t those soldiers anymore. We were all up for reenlistment within months of each other, and you know the rest. The Hotzone was born. And now, fortunately, I get to lay my head on the same pillow every night. Heck. I have a pillow. There have been plenty of times when that was a luxury.”

He said that, and she imagined he meant it—to some degree. But she knew he had to have regrets. Like her, he’d been pushed out of his career, caught in circumstances that he didn’t create. “Did you report what happened?”

“We did,” Ryan said. “As soon as we were out of the line of fire, wouldn’t have been able to have done it any other way. Prosecution followed, but it was all done behind closed doors. Some things are bigger than the people involved. There are unwritten codes, ways soldiers operate to protect the integrity of the organization, and those operating within it. Things best kept between soldiers.”

For a flash of a moment, she considered Frank’s call. His order that she dig deeper into the story of the soldier and the mayor, and she wondered how Ryan would respond to her doing so. He’d already said he’d like her to stay out of this. All the more reason she had to find a new path for herself. She shook off the thought. Refocused on what felt important to her. Ryan.

“But the Army lost a good soldier fighting for the right values, I don’t see how that can be the best outcome.”

“Staying wasn’t an option,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Her heart squeezed with his words. Ryan was a hero. The kind of man who really did make a difference. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know him. The more she thought this man was the man. “Could you have transferred?”

“You don’t transfer out of a unit like mine without really good cause. I would have had to explain.”

He reached for her and pulled her into his lap. “You trying to get rid of me?”

“Oh, no,” she said, her hand settling on his jaw. He smelled so good she wanted to gobble him up. She turned and straddled him, the armless chair giving her plenty of freedom. She twined her fingers around his neck. “In fact, I plan to hold you hostage tonight. In my bedroom.”

His hands slid up her back. “Are there any restraints involved?”

She arched over his hips, feeling the thickness of his growing arousal, the heat simmering between them. “I have silk panty hose that might do the job.”

“I like silk panty hose,” he said. “I think you should go put them on. I’ll take them off.”

“Why do I get the impression I’m going to be the one ending up in those restraints?”

He nipped her lip. “Because you secretly like giving me control. Admit it.”

Her breath lodged in her throat and feathered from her lips. “I’ll never admit any such thing.” She tried to sound playful, tried to tease him back. But her throat was raspy. Her emotions fluttered in her chest. It was true. She liked giving him control. When she was with Ryan, she liked not having to worry, not having to prove anything to anyone. Ryan made her feel those things. He made her happy.

“I bet I can get you to say it,” Ryan vowed. He began to stand, taking her with him.

“Wait,” she said, cupping his cheeks. “Are you happy?”

His forehead fell to hers. “I’m about to go make love to you, Sabrina. Of course I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a real answer. It wasn’t the answer she wanted. But he kissed her, a deep, probing kiss that danced along her nerve endings and promised that tonight would, indeed, be happy.

17

SUNDAY MORNING RYAN WOKE to the sweet scent of honeysuckle and the soft warmth of Sabrina’s naked body next to his. Beat the hell out of a musty hotel room. Oh, yeah. He could get used to this, and it scared the hell out of him. Nothing in his life was permanent. Sabrina had family and roots, he didn’t. He had to keep this real, to remember this was a journey, not a destination.

“Morning,” Sabrina murmured, stretching and then rolling to rest her chin on his chest.

“You’re awake early,” he commented. The sun wasn’t even up yet.

“If I am, you are, too,” she pointed out.