Operation Heartbeat (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #1)

SEVEN

Sophie raised a hand to brush a lock of hair away from her cheekbone. It trembled for a moment before she folded her fingers and hid her hand in her lap. She didn’t want a man as strong as Con to see her as the weak link in their team.

He saw it, though. Reaching over, he plucked the phone from her hand. “You’ve been working on this a lot. Take a break. Get cleaned up and I’ll make you some coffee.”

She snatched the phone back. He clamped his grip on it tighter, leaving them in a tug-of-war. She narrowed her eyes.

He narrowed his own back.

“Take a break, Sophie. I’ll order us room service.”

The mention of room service reminded her that they were posing as newlyweds who couldn’t leave each other’s arms—or bed—long enough to even feed themselves.

Seeing the lines deepen between his brows, she realized she wasn’t going to win this hand. She pushed away from the table and went into the master suite to dress. Just one glance at that rumpled, unmade bed had her tingling in places she definitely had no business tingling.

Quickly, she grabbed her bag and carried it into the huge bathroom. She started pulling out clothes for the day. But a glance at the enormous marble-walled walk-in shower made her change course.

Digging up more information about Bayar or whoever he was could surely wait five minutes while she took a shower.

The warm water trickling from the waterfall faucet was well worth her decision. When she had more time, she was going to spend a lot more of it enjoying this shower experience. Stepping out and wrapping herself in a thick, fluffy towel was a reward for her self-control in switching off that faucet long before she was ready.

Through the door came the rumble of Con’s voice as he spoke to someone on the phone. She had a huge case of FOMO—fear of missing out—and rushed into her clothes and ran a brush through her hair.

When she stepped out, he was just lowering the phone from his ear. He swung to look at her.

His stare traveled over her face and damp hair, down her body to her bare toes. She curled them into the floor as if they could keep her from floating away on some wild daydream.

She’d thrown on a dress. It was simplistic in design and hit her in all the right places, which to her meant skimming over her hips. Since her divorce, she’d put on a few pounds, and every ounce seemed to show up on her hips. She kept telling herself that if she felt too uncomfortable in her own skin, she’d hit the gym, but so far that day hadn’t come.

“I ordered food.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“And made you coffee.” He twitched his angular jaw toward the table where a steaming mug sat.

“I appreciate it.”

As she skirted around the big SEAL who seemed to take up the entire room, the fabric of her dress swished around her calves. When she sank to the chair she’d abandoned, she took a sip of the coffee, which was surprisingly brewed to perfection.

With a little buzz of caffeine in her veins—not to mention one she got after being under Con’s deep, dark gaze—she picked up the phone again and continued where she left off.

As usual when Sophie got involved in a project, she jumped in feet first. At one point, she was aware of Con setting food in front of her.

“Sophie.”

“Hmm?”

“You have to eat.”

“What?”

“You need to eat.”

She waved a hand to shoo him away. She was so close to uncovering something—she could feel it.

Con’s face flashed in front her eyes right before he took the phone away from her and replaced it with a fork.

She stared at the utensil, trying to understand what just happened. “You’re pretty bossy, you know that?”

He let out a low growl. “You don’t know how much restraint I’ve been exercising, Sophie. You didn’t sleep all night long. I should force you to bed.”

Her stomach fluttered with the memory of what little hours of sleep she’d had—plastered against Con’s hard body.

“You haven’t drunk or eaten anything since you’ve been here. I’ve seen what happens when people ignore their needs.”

His low, rough voice skittered over her senses.

Needs.

She ran her gaze over him. Now that she knew how those hard lips felt against hers, she saw them differently. Her fingers curled into her palms on the sensation of how his broad shoulders had moved under her touch.

She cleared her throat.

He straightened. “Your brain will work better with sleep and food.”

Seeing there was no point in arguing further, and knowing he was right about taking care of herself, she drew the plate of food toward her. The spiced lamb smelled delicious, as did the dish made of chickpeas and the flatbread. She took a nibble of the bread and found her appetite again.

She dug in with relish. Con took a seat adjacent to her and did the same. He polished off his food in no time and took over with the phone.

“The CIA found a new photo in the cloud.”

She bobbed her head in answer as she swallowed her bite. “I saw it.”

“What importance would a photo of Henry VIII have to our suspect?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I mean, it could be part of the cipher.”

A dark brow hitched upward, giving Con a devilish look. “To the cryptogram?”

She nodded and dabbed her lips with the napkin. “Can I see the photo again?”

He passed her the phone. This time their fingers only brushed, without the tug of war.

“This painting was hanging in the New York City Met at the time that the suspect was in town.”

“Okay?”

She shifted her gaze to his. “Wasn’t there just a bombing near the Met?”

He ran his fingers over his short hair. “Of course. You know that.”

“So why would he only take a picture of that painting?” Her question hung in the air for a long beat. “I think he’s feeding us information as he wants us to receive it. Which is scary as hell.”

“It’s also very likely.”

“What interests him about old Henry?” she asked aloud.

She blinked and held the phone at arm’s length.

“What are you doing?” Con asked.

“Either my eyes are going wonky from staring at screens too long or… No! I’m right. Look!” She held up the device in front of his face. “One of Henry’s eyes is off the tiniest bit. See?”

“I guess so. But maybe that’s just how the artist painted it.”

“No,” she said slowly.

Then it hit her. She quickly sent the photo to the laptop and enlarged it.

“My god,” Con whispered close to her ear as he hovered over her shoulder to see the screen.

She thumped a hand on the table. “I knew it! This appears to be a photograph of the original painting—but it isn’t. It’s been altered.” She created a square around the eye and blew it up larger to reveal a bunch of smaller photos making up one larger composite. Just like the answers to the cryptogram had been in the names of each file, each puzzle had an answer.

She issued a squeal. “Each picture tells a story. It’s a puzzle within a puzzle.” She looked up at him, excitement thrumming through her. “Con. Each of these photos could have metadata.”

He swiped an arm over the table, shoving their empty plates to the other side. When she set her fingers to the keyboard, they were shaking so much that she made several typos.

Long fingers stretched over the back of her hand. “Sophie. Calm down. Take your time.”

She bit into her bottom lip and tried to focus on the puzzle instead of Con’s touch…but her body gave her away by breaking out in goose bumps.

* * * * *

Con’s gut clenched when he looked down at Sophie’s arm and noticed that her skin had erupted in goose bumps.

Every guy knew what happened when a woman got goose bumps—her nipples got hard too.

He yanked his hand away, but he could still feel those small bumps. To dispel the sensation, he hooked his hand around his nape and rubbed.

He had to get some fresh air. He’d step outside for a minute.

He didn’t even take a step before realizing what a mistake that would be. Just seeing the pool through the glass door was a reminder of stripping off his and Sophie’s clothes and throwing them both into the sun-warmed water.

She had to be wearing the perfume again.

Taking a deep sniff of the air, he tried to detect any trace of it on her. He couldn’t pick it up, so he leaned over her, pretending to stare at the screen while surreptitiously sniffing her hair.

She smelled good, like body wash and shampoo, but it wasn’t driving him out of his mind the way that perfume had.

When she let out a gasp, he jerked upright, thinking she had a problem with his closeness. But she was jabbing a finger at the screen.

“One block…is nine blocks!” She clicked on one photo and they both froze.

Nine tiny photos opened on the screen. The top left corner was a street sign. She clicked on it, and opened the properties of the image.

“Con, it’s an address!”

He grabbed his phone and plugged it in to his own GPS. When the location hit his phone, he held it up for her to see.

“Oh my god. Con…” Her eyes were wide, filled with awe and fear at the same time. “Isn’t that the location of the bombing on the West Coast?”

“Jesus Christ, Sophie. This is what the CIA is looking for too. You did it. You have to keep going.”

“I’m on it!”

The small photos weren’t all complete images. In some cases, they were just fragments. A cornerstone of a building. A portion of a traffic light.

“Are those more puzzles? Are there photos within the photos?”

She blew up the traffic light to test that theory, but the image only pixelated into a blur. “Nope. But you’re right that each photo means something else. I’ve never seen anything like this. Whoever made this is a genius .”

“And a threat to society.”

She met his stare. A light pink flush coated her cheeks as if she was embarrassed by her praise of a mind that was so diabolical.

“I just meant…”

“I know what you meant, Sophie. You’re not wrong.”

“This guy enjoys making these puzzles. This is huge, Con. He’s way more dangerous than I guessed.”

“Keep up the search. I’m going to step into the bedroom and phone this in. If you find anything else, call out. Okay?”

She nodded and turned back to the image expanded on the screen. When he glanced at her, her teeth were set into her full bottom lip in total concentration.

He barely got the bedroom door closed and took out his phone before she yelled.

“Con! Come back in here! Hurry!”

He rushed into the room. She was on her feet, gripping the edge of the table, fixated on the screen. “This photo is of a van. Wasn’t a van used for the bomb in California?”

“You’re right.”

“And this.” She pulled up another photo. “This cornerstone belongs to a bank near the bombing site. This is how they’re communicating the moves, Con. Through this photo or others just like it.”

The light of exhilaration in her chocolate eyes danced, enhancing her beauty so much that he almost gave in to his urges and pulled her into his arms.

“You’re brilliant, Sophie.”

“I-I’m just analyzing data.” She glanced away.

Suddenly his body realized a very beautiful woman sat on eye level with his dick, and that appendage began to swell. He stepped away from her before she could notice the huge erection tenting his jeans.

“Keep working on it. Write everything down. I’ve got to get my CO on the horn and share this. We need a whole team to break this thing open.”

She nodded in response but she didn’t immediately return to work. She simply stared up at him, a new light in her eyes.