Chapter 7 #2
When they’d first met years before, the loss of his late wife had been too recent.
The pain in his heart too fresh. After the op in Syria, they’d gone their separate ways, their lives taking them each along very different paths.
He’d gone back home to be the father his little girl deserved, and Lena had continued fighting the demons of this world.
Years later, here they were. Partners once again. Except partners typically gave each other a courtesy heads-up when planning a reckless stunt like the one Lena had pulled.
The water shut off above him, signaling her shower had come to an end. He swallowed the rest of his drink before making a move toward the bottle. Minutes later, Rafe was standing in that very same spot, lost in various theories as to why she’d done it when he heard the rasp of her damaged voice.
“Hey.”
With a blink, he looked up to find Lena standing in the opened doorway. Even from across the room, her natural beauty was easily seen.
Her brown hair was damp, her face freshly washed, and she was wearing a set of baby blue pajamas. The satin pants and button-down top shimmered beneath the lights as she cautiously entered the room.
“Hey.” Rafe gave a slight dip of his chin. “How are you feeling?”
Lena’s shoulder lifted with a casual shrug. “Sore throat and sore muscles. But that’s to be expected, I suppose.” Her rosy lips curved. “Especially at my age.”
“I’ve been told age is just a number.”
Her soft huff of a chuckle came out scratchy and rough. “I’m pretty sure that’s what old people tell themselves as a way of convincing themselves they aren’t actually old.”
She moved toward him, the soft material flowing over her petite form like an ocean of waves. Her bare-footed steps were silent as she padded along the room’s large, ornate rug.
Even her feet are adorable.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Make it a double?”
Rafe went to the small accent table butted up against the wall to his left to get another glass.
Seconds later, he was handing her the generous pour, expecting a slow, savoring sip.
Instead, Lena brought the glass to her mouth, tipped her head back, and took the entire contents down with one large gulp.
Without a word spoken between them, Rafe poured her another. She took her time with the second round, appearing uncharacteristically nervous. When she did speak again, her whispered words were so soft, he almost missed them.
“I’m sorry.”
He froze with his own glass making it halfway to his lips. “For what?”
“I’m the reason he’s dead.” Her haunted gaze held his captive. “It’s my fault you were forced to kill him. I never intended—”
“What were your intentions?” Rafe hadn’t meant to say the words aloud. “You sure this wasn’t your plan all along?”
“What?” She physically recoiled. “Of course, that wasn’t my plan.”
“You took off his cuffs and then put yourself smack dab in his personal space.”
Lena scoffed. “A tactic we’ve both used countless times in the past without incident.”
“Only takes once.” Rafe tossed back the rest of his drink before setting the glass down onto the top of his desk. “We’re both tired.” He rounded his desk. “We should get some rest and continue this conversation in the morning.”
“No.” She put herself directly in his path. “We’re finishing this conversation now.”
“Lena—”
“Do you really think I went in there in hopes of provoking an attack? Why on earth would I do that when killing him does nothing but hurt our chances of stopping Kozlova?”
“He killed your friends,” Rafe countered. “Caleb and Sabrina? We’d just seen proof he was involved in their deaths.”
“So you think I devised a plan to go into that room alone and push him into a murderous rage? Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”
About as crazy as he was starting to feel.
“Like I said,” he rumbled low. “It’s late, and we’ve both had a very long day.”
Rafe started for the door, but only made a few feet before he heard—
“Stop.”
He wasn’t sure why, but he did as she asked and halted his steps. “What is it, Lena?”
“Look at me.” She repeated the words a bit stronger when he refused. “Dammit, Rafe. Look at me!”
A wave of guilt fell over him at the sound of her strained voice. He faced her slowly, his chest growing tight when he saw the look on her face. Emotion, real and raw, left her brows dipping inward and a light sheen covering her hazel gaze.
“Yes, that man killed my friends.” She stepped in closer. “And yes, a big part of me wanted him dead. But I have never and would never put my personal feelings above the goal of a mission. Unsanctioned or otherwise.” Her pretty face twisted with an attempt to clear the hoarseness from her throat.
Rafe’s attention lowered to the source of her pain. It was the first time since she’d come in here that he’d let himself look.
His gut tightened, his jaw clenching as his hands curled into fists at his sides. Ever observant, Lena didn’t miss the immediate change in his demeanor. She did, however, misinterpret its cause.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized a second time.
“I swear, I never meant to put you in that position.” And then, “I understand the toll of taking another’s life.
Even in defense of self or others, it . .
. well, it sucks. So no, I didn’t plan to put a burden like that on your shoulders.
I’d nev—” Her ragged voice broke completely.
“I know,” Rafe rumbled. Deep in his gut, he already knew. “I know you’d never . . .” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Lena. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”
“You have every right to be angry.”
“I am angry.” He inched closer. “But not for the reasons you think.”
“Then why?” Her confusion was so easy to see.
Rafe took a small, final step forward. Any closer, the tips of his toes would be touching hers. Adorable little toes painted a shade of pink he found oddly attractive.
“I was right there, and I didn’t think I’d be able to stop him.”
Understanding washed over her beseeching gaze as Lena lifted a hand to his chest. She pressed a palm to the place covering his pounding heart.
“But you did stop him,” she soothed. “I’m alive because of you.”
His breath hitched with a soft brushing of her thumb.
“He could have snapped your neck in a heartbeat.”
“I know.”
“There wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done to save you.”
She leaned in and whispered another soft, “I know.”
Rafe brought a hand to her face, gently cupping her silky-smooth cheek with his palm. “Anything happens to you, I don’t—”
Lena pressed a finger to his lips. “It won’t.” She promised something she couldn’t guarantee. “Not as long as you’re the one watching my back.”
“Lena.” Her name came out as a deep growl, thanks to his barely kept control.
She rose to those cute-as-hell toes. Brought her mouth so close to his, Rafe could’ve sworn he felt their feathered touch.
“Shh,” Lena whispered. “I shouldn’t be talking, remember?”
He remembered. He also remembered she was hurt.
“We shouldn’t—”
“Oh, we should.” Her lips did brush across his just then. “We really . . .” A light kiss. “Really . . .” One more. “Should.”
Rafe had tried. He’d really and truly tried. But a man could only take so much.
He grabbed her hips, pulled her body flush with his, and slammed his mouth to hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hard. Fast. Passionate and full of heat.
Their tongues swirled and danced as they savored that very first taste. She held hints of bourbon and a sweetness that could only belong to Lena. A flavor as intoxicating as the woman herself.
A raspy moan filled the air as her hands dropped down to his waist. Lena began pulling at the hem of his shirt. As with all things in life, she didn’t take anything slow. The confidence he’d witnessed in the field was the same he felt now.
But as she started to remove his shirt, Rafe felt an overwhelming urge to put on the brakes. Not because he didn’t want to be with her. Hell, no. In that moment, there wasn’t anything he wanted more. Except—
A low curse fell from his lips as he forced himself to pull away. “We should stop.”
“That sounds like a perfectly horrible idea.”
Rafe’s shoulders shook with a deep chuckle. “I know, sweetheart.” He brought a hand to her face like before. “It is a horrible idea. But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
“I thought you wanted this.”
“Oh, I do.” He nodded. “Trust me. Just not tonight. Not while you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“You heard what the doctor said about rest.”
“Doctor, shmocter.” Her hazel eyes rolled.
“This isn’t never, Lena.” He leaned in for another soft kiss. “Just want to make sure it’s about us and not what happened.”
“I’m not using you for sex as some sort of trauma therapy, Rafe.” Her shoulders fell. “But I get it. And you’re probably right. It sucks, but you’re probably right.”
“You get settled into your room okay?”
“Are you kidding?” She sent him a look that said she thought he was nuts. “Have you seen the gigantic canopy bed?”
The rhetorical question made him grin. “I’m just down the hall if you need me.”
“What if I need you now?”
“Lena . . .”
That time, her name was a warning.
“All right, all right,” she rasped, stepping out of his reach with a flippant wave of her hand. “But don’t think I won’t remind you of this moment when you come beggin’ for more.”
Rafe called out for her as she headed for the door.
“I don’t beg.”
But for you, I just might.
Lena stopped just before crossing the threshold to bring her gaze back to his. “We’ll see.” She winked.
A second later, she was gone and Rafe was alone with his thoughts. The first that came to mind?
You’re a bloody fool.