Under Fire (Elite Force 3)

“See!” She squeezed his hands, laughing.

“I was the president, actually.” He smiled, the first shadow-free grin she’d seen from him. “And of the math club too. I’m a smart guy who wasn’t born wearing a pocket protector.” His smile faded. “That’s a part of why I was privy to overhearing some of the confidential crap in the Middle East. They saw me as a bodyguard without ears or the sense to put together what I was hearing. Shame on them. And shame on you.”

His words deflated the air and fight right out of her. She really was every bit as awful as her mother. She slid her hands free and bracketed his face. “You’re right. I was wrong, and I apologize, truly.”

Peace settled inside her as she saw him with new eyes, found depths in him she hadn’t realized before. He was everything she could have hoped for—and more. Her insecurities had limited her perceptions, but not anymore. Not with Brandon.

“Apology accepted.” His eyes shifted to violet blue again, the kind so deep a woman could climb right in for a swim. Did he know he was looking at her that way?

Her heart rate sped up. “I guess I should go back to sleep then.”

“You could.” He slipped his arms around her and settled her on his lap effortlessly. “Or you could find out what it’s like to make out with the president of the chess club.”

Chapter 16

Brandon had been told again and again by his therapist that he could have a second chance at regaining his life. But until this moment with Cat, he hadn’t really believed that could be possible.

He threaded his fingers through her loose red hair, the fine strands almost translucent in the intermittent flashes of lightning. And she was here with him now, which scared the hell out of him. She should have been at home with her dogs and friends, enjoying a normal day with people who didn’t have screwed-up lives.

Definitely not on the run, in some remote cabin, hiding out from drive-by shootings and criminals who bombed homes and God only knew what else. Fear had gripped his gut and clouded his mind until all he could think about was making sure he didn’t let her out of his sight.

She deserved so much better than what he had to offer, but for some reason she wanted him anyway. He reached past her to lock the door before angling back to slant his mouth over hers again. The soft plumpness was so much sweeter than he’d even imagined over the past months. And hell yes, he’d imagined kissing her more than once, only to hold back.

Her stroke was featherlight along his chest, just enough to arouse without veering into ticklish.

“You can touch me too, you know,” she whispered against his mouth, the scent of honeysuckle filling the space between them. “I’m not going to break.”

“I don’t want to scare you off. You’re so… fragile.” Which made her career choice all the more curious.

She’d forged an unconventional lifestyle from work that was fairly physical. She was running against the mainstream in two ways—by not following the customary expectations of her community and by working with her hands in a way that was fairly humanitarian.

“I’m going to just accept that as a compliment rather than get offended at the implication I’m some fragile helpless innocent.”

Well, yes, he had been thinking that. Although these past days were making him rethink a lot of things about her. He should have looked deeper before now. She might be a quiet sort, but she was living a renegade lifestyle with her dogs on the beach. Plus, she was living alone, no one protecting her except her dogs.

“Honest to God, Cat, I’m not sure what to think right now.”

“How about just listen while I dispel some more preconceived notions?” She sat back on her heels, her hazel eyes fierce in the dim night. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ve learned how to go after what I want from life, and from the minute I first saw you walk onto my property, I wanted you.”

The determination in her words was unmistakable—and one hefty turn-on.

“O-kay then.”

“Just to clear up another point, I’m not innocent, but I’m not particularly experienced either. Wait—” She held up a hand, then twirled it in a circle. “Back up. I have had relationships and they were sexual, but it wasn’t great, so it wasn’t like I learned much from the encounters.”

Her words stunned him quiet. Not what she said, but that she was discussing this at all. He’d planned on kissing her and she was already fast-tracking to discussions of getting naked. Or maybe that was how those other guys had handled being with Catriona.

“You’re saying the guys you dated were duds in bed.”

A smile chased away some of the worry on her face. “That sounds better than saying I was the dud.”

And right there, he saw it. What he’d been misunderstanding about her all along. She seemed so at peace and confident in her world. He’d put her on some kind of “serenity goddess” pedestal. While she had accepted him, flaws and all, he hadn’t looked clear through to her, to see her insecurity—over what, he didn’t know. But apparently somewhere along the line something or someone had done a number on her, making her lose sight of how perfect she was—an original.

She’d certainly pulled him out of the fog he’d been walking in.

And then there was the way she’d insisted on being here with him rather than being tucked away at a hotel with another PJ team member watching out for her. She’d packed her clothes, loaded up his truck while he flipped in and out of flashbacks and flights of panic. Her quiet determination yanked him through a time in his life when he could have easily lost it altogether. But she wanted to be here.

She’d refused to be anywhere else.