Free Fall (Elite Force #4)(57)
Author: Catherine Mann

***

“Any idea how long you’ll be undercover as a student?”

“Not a clue.” Stella looped the blue and green sarong around her again and again, checking in the mirror to make sure she got it just right. She spun back to face Jose. “And if I did know and I told you, then I would have to kill you.”

“That’s supposed to be my line.” He slipped his hands under the edge of the kanga he’d just bought for her from a street vendor.

The Kenyan bed and breakfast by the ocean was a little hokey with its over-the-top safari room. But she enjoyed it all the same—from the zebra skin rug to the mosquito netting around the bed. Even the carved wood animals with a gloss perfection that hinted they might just well say “Made in China” on the bottom.

They had one weekend left before finally she had her chance to blend in with a group of foreign exchange students doing a work study in an area known for recruiting new foot soldiers for anarchy. Jose’s stint in Africa dealing with the pirate issue was nearly over, a new team stepping in for the next rotation. By the time she finished her assignment, he would have returned to the States.

And then? They’d both said the big “love” word and maybe it was too early to talk marriage, but was she crazy to want reassurance before they said good-bye?

He hauled her closer, guiding her with him as he backed toward the bed, shouldering through the mosquito netting.

She batted his hands away, plastering a playful smile on her face. “You’re bad.”

“Not as bad as I want us to be.” He tugged again, toppling her onto the bed with him. “Unwrapping you plays a part in more than one of my fantasies.”

“You fantasize about me?” She rolled to her side as he kissed her neck, his hands tunneling farther under the wrap. “When?”

“In bed, in the shower, hell,” he growled against her skin, “when I’m eating dinner, which can be awkward if there’s a mess hall full of people around.”

“Oh really?” She liked knowing that he was thinking about her. “What did you do?”

“I sure as hell didn’t stand up.” His hand trekked over her stomach, cupping between her legs. “I hung out there moving food around on my tray until it was safe to stand up. The smell of mess hall chow still makes me hard.”

She appreciated that he was trying to be lighthearted, to ease the tension of preparing to say good-bye while making the most of this weekend. And the way his fingers were toying with her now, she almost forgot her doubts. But it was getting tougher and tougher to play along as time ticked away.

Still, she would try, because the last thing she wanted was to say good-bye with tears or anger. She’d seen that kind of parting too many times with her parents. “Women have fantasies too, you know.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Now you’re talking.” He rubbed small circles, her arousal slicking his fingertips. “What kind of fantasies did you have about me?”

“You would be surprised.” Dreams of dinner in a totally nonexotic kitchen that happened to be in a house they owned together. Hopes of children at that table, with precious chocolate stains on their faces… Normal stuff.

Real life.

“Seriously, Stella? You’ve been holding back?” His erection throbbed against her thigh, his jeans not doing much to disguise how much he wanted her. “I think I would know by now if you had… edgier tendencies.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, but not knowing how to tell him.

“Too bad.”

Whoa. Wait a second. “Really?”

“Nah…” He stopped teasing and cupped her hip, his eyes dark and serious. “I’m not into pain myself and the last thing I ever want is to hurt you. So, what do you want that you’ve been hesitant to ask?”

Stella stared back at him, the face of the only man she’d ever loved… and she couldn’t say it. She could face down armed gunmen, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice how much she wanted happily ever after with Jose. She was afraid he would say no.

Maybe lighthearted was the way to play it this weekend after all. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

“Hand to God…” He clapped a palm over his heart. “I would never laugh at anything to do with you and sex. I take that very seriously.”

“A kilt.”

His jaw went slack. “What?”

“You promised not to laugh.”

“I’m not laughing. I swear. I’m just… stunned.”

“Never mind.” She sniffed.

“No, hey, I’m not backing down.” His arm slid around her back and he pulled her flush against him. “I’m starting to groove on the whole kilt thing if that’s what you want. I just didn’t expect it. You’re so logical.”

“Logical women can’t be fanciful?” And have dreams that didn’t involve guns and international plots, instead settled into desk jobs where they could serve their country and still have a life.

“What else goes with this kilt?”

A home filled with his babies. “You shirtless, of course.”

She swiped the edge of her wrap along his chin. “We could even use a sarong as a tartan.”

His brow furrowed and he watched her while cars honked and beeped on the street below. “You really are dreaming big. How did I miss that about you these past five months?”

Suddenly, they weren’t talking about sex or playing dress-up games. She couldn’t hide her longing for more. “Do you ever wonder what we’re doing here?”

“I’m here to save lives. One at a time. How about you?”

“Pursue bad guys around the world, I guess.” Uncover the truth about her mother’s death. “Except sometimes it’s tough to tell who the bad guys are when some seem to keep switching sides back and forth.”

He traced the furrows in her forehead. “There’s an Arab proverb that goes something like ‘People fear time. Time fears the pyramids.’ Which I interpret as ‘take each day as it comes. There’s a picture bigger than us going on.’”

“You’re not helping me.” Not when she so desperately wanted to talk about the future, their future, not some existential view of the whole freakin’ world.

“Okay, how about this one?” He lifted a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference.’”