Under Fire (Elite Force #3)(24)
Author: Catherine Mann

After her interview with Special Agent Sylvia Cramer had concluded, two official-looking cars had escorted them to base housing packed with rows of tan stucco homes. On the outer edges of the community, they’d actually pulled into the driveway of one of those homes.

She’d been surprised, expecting they would be sent to one of the temporary lodging facilities, more like a hotel or condo. Or housed in some vault in Sylvia Cramer’s top-secret bat cave. But this was a no-kidding three-bedroom house.

Not that it appeared anyone actually lived here.

It carried more of a model-home look and smell, with lots of cherrywood furniture that still sported a highly polished new sheen. The matchy-matchy blue and green striped sofa and wingbacks completed the decor. No personal photos. Stock framed images of beach sunsets and airplanes hung on the walls. Disco sniffed the dried moss around a potted silk palm tree.

Apparently General Sullivan had made special arrangements for them to use temporary lodgings on base with security guards outside, offering her protection until Brandon Harris could be located and his story looked into more deeply. As far as she was concerned, here was as good as anywhere else.

And Liam was here. They were linked in this now, and while she was still as afraid on base as off, she did trust Liam.

Which was strange, considering she’d known him for all of three weeks, six months ago.

She turned slowly in the living room. “So these are distinguished visitors’ quarters.”

“All the basics you could need are here—food, sodas,” he announced, pulling open a drawer on a sideboard. Except rather than place mats, he revealed, “They’ve even got shoulder boards and rank paraphernalia for any general in any branch of the services. Pick a star.”

Sure enough, one-star up to four-star ranks lined the inside of the drawer. “This is so surreal. I feel like I actually am in some TV show, with our protective detail outside. Except in the movies, room service always turns out to be a bad guy, or the villains kill the guards.”

“No one’s getting through to you.” His hands fell to her shoulders. “I won’t let them.”

He stood so close she could smell the coffee on his breath, and wow, but she was suddenly jonesing for a taste. She should step away. Should. But didn’t.

Rachel soaked up the warm comfort, the strong sensuality of his hands. The heat of him seared through her simple cotton shirt. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me today. I sprung this on you without warning and hauled you into a nightmare… I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you came to me.”

Her heart sped up. Was he going to kiss her again, and to hell with the consequences? She could see the memory of that earlier kiss scrolling through his eyes.

“Rachel?”

“Yeah.” Was that breathy voice hers?

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

She exhaled hard. “I’m good. Thanks. Agent Cramer gave me enough Cokes to keep me awake all night.”

Backing away, he resumed his scoping out of the place. “You held up well in there. I know that had to be tough, getting grilled.” He played with lamp shades and peered out windows. “But she was only covering all her bases.”

Looking in lamps? Did he think the place might be bugged? That seemed extreme, but then she couldn’t have predicted anything that had happened to her recently.

She trailed behind him. “It’s tough knowing who to trust. I can’t blame her for doing her job.” She leaned closer to whisper. “Doesn’t it bother you that someone took my car from base? Brandon insists there’s a mole in his chain of command, and yet we’re here, on base?”

He shrugged. “Well, since the FBI and CIA aren’t listening to anything either of you has to say, this is as good as it gets, unless we strike out on our own. Regardless, I intend to keep you in sight at all times.”

On their own. Alone. Together. The notion sent a shiver of possibility through her. But it also brought a reminder that they had guards a simple shout away. While the briefest stroke of his gaze turned her inside out, sparking barely banked fires from their kiss earlier, there wasn’t a chance of testing out one of those beds together. One wayward noisy moan and they could have guns whipping out left and right. This place might be large, but it was far from private.

“You’re right. Of course.” She stepped away self-consciously until the backs of her legs bumped the sofa. She dropped to sit on the edge, crossing her arms over her tingling tight br**sts.

He searched her eyes and she forced herself not to fidget at the heat that gathered between her legs. An answering flame glinted in his green eyes a second before he pivoted away fast and walked to the flat-screen television mounted on the wall over a hutch. He picked up the remote control from the cabinet and flipped through channels until settling on an old John Wayne war movie.

He wanted to watch TV? Now? Really? She wanted to pull her hair and shout in frustration.

Turning back to her, he tossed the remote on the coffee table and crouched in front of her, one hand on the armrest, so close without touching her. “Maybe we should talk about what happened earlier, on the roadside.”

Ah, now she understood about the television. He was making it easier for them to talk. Giving at least a sense of privacy, in case there were listening devices.

Although she wasn’t so sure she particularly wanted to discuss the kiss. Like that was going to make her feel better? Let’s dissect the kiss. Talk about the kiss. Think about the kiss until she died from frustration. That would end all their troubles.

Her chin tipped. “Why would that be? Unless it was important. Which it wasn’t. It was…”

“Adrenaline.”

“Of course.” Which pissed her off, because she could have sworn the kiss meant more than that. Who cared if someone was listening? “Do you go around kissing women every time you get revved up from a mission? Because now that I think about it, last time we were together, adrenaline got pumping and you kissed me, so you’re right, it must mean nothing.”

He grinned. Actually grinned, damn it, as he shifted onto the sofa to sit close beside her, his leg pressed against hers. “And you don’t get a rush after a mission?”

Her mouth went dry. “This isn’t funny.”

His smile faded. “You’re right. I just need to know one thing. Are you having a relationship with Brandon Harris?”

Had that been what Liam’s kiss was about? Some he-man, jealous need to stake his claim on her? Not very enlightened, but God, it made her want to grab a fistful of his shirt and haul him in to put her stamp on him. “Brandon’s not my type.”