Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ana slipped into the en suite with her travel bag and set it on the counter. She flipped on the shower and fished through the bag for one of the disposable phones she’d packed.
Door shut and locked. Water running. Check. Check. Check.
She closed her eyes, pulling to mind the number she’d committed to memory and then released a shaky breath. A breath on which floated a boatload of guilt, that is if guilt were able to manifest itself in a tangible form. She opened her eyes when the call connected and announced, “Hi, it’s me.”
“It’s about time.” He was quiet and restrained, which Ana had come to know meant he was reining himself in to keep from yelling.
She assumed he’d tried to get to the second Volkov source in Miami and had discovered the man was under Federal protection.
“We cannot get our man out of Florida. He is too heavily guarded. This is the second target you have failed to deliver as proof of your loyalty.”
“I shouldn’t have to prove my loyalty given who I am, and don’t forget, I reached out to your organization first,” she reminded him, doing her best to keep her tone confident and sharp. “I’m trying to help.”
“I still don’t trust you. You may be working with any number of my enemies. Or setting me up with the FBI.” The man had lived outside of Russia for so long his accent was more Jersey than anything else.
“I can assure you I am not. I want vengeance for what happened to my parents. Why do you think I joined the FBI? I needed access to their resources. Their case files.”
“And they hired you despite knowing the identity of your parents?” He’d asked this the first time she’d spoken to him. Was he trying to catch her in a lie?
“I was sixteen when my parents died. As far as management is concerned, my history toughened me up and gives me an edge over my colleagues,” she answered, shifting away from the door, hoping the walls were well-made and thick enough to prevent A.J.
from overhearing. “You have to understand, I had no idea there were any living Volkovs until the FBI acquired two of your people and turned them as sources.”
“Where were you earlier?” he asked, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “My cousin says you were not at the meet today.”
“I had to leave D.C. to follow a lead,” she rushed out. “But we learned who got to Katya. Ivan Smirnoff, The Huntsman, is in the U.S. The FBI believes your people hired him.”
“This is not true,” he said coolly. “And there is no way Ivan would take a job for the SVR either.”
“Unless the SVR contracted someone else to hire him?” she proposed.
“To put distance between themselves and the hit, especially because they are still not certain whether or not you have the key. They may be testing you. Or setting you up to draw the attention of the FBI.” Anything was possible at this point.
“But I did find who we’ve been looking for.
” Those words would buy her the time she needed and so much more.
“I need you to trust me. Give me until Friday night, and I promise you’ll be one step closer to having what you need. ”
“If you’re wrong . . .” He left the unfinished threat hanging in the air. Ana was well aware his fierce tone was designed to scare her, but he couldn’t contain the hint of excitement in his voice at the hope her claim might prove to be true.
It was the threat, however, that had her clutching on to the vanity counter to steel her nerves. “I won’t let you down.” She ended the call before he could say more, then powered off the phone.
Her heart hammered wildly and with fierce intensity. “What am I doing?” she wondered, eyes on the mirror where steam gradually worked to hide her reflection.
After a few calming breaths, she hid the phone in her bag and peeled off her clothes to go through the motions of showering before changing into clean clothes.
She put on a sheer white bra and panty set beneath her white, loose-fitting V-neck tee paired with pale green shorts. Her hair was still wet, but she hadn’t thought to bring a hair dryer, so she tied it into a side braid, added a little mascara, then went to find A.J.
From the smell of it, A.J. was cooking. Well, maybe burning something.
The man had proven through his words and his actions he was in this until the end, and he was there to protect her. Maybe a part of her did want him in her corner, though she’d be reluctant to admit that to him.
A.J.’s protectiveness didn’t seem to bother her the way Kyle’s had.
Then again, Kyle’s protective nature always felt like it stemmed from a place of control.
Or maybe she’d just always kept walls between them.
Walls he continually worked to demolish—without success.
He finally gave up and left her. And honestly, she’d been relieved he’d stopped trying.
A.J. was offering to teach her how to open up instead of demanding that she do it like Kyle had done. And she found herself wanting to accept A.J.’s invitation.
What was different now? Was it him or the fact her world changed four months ago when Porter came to her in Charlotte with a special assignment?
“That doesn’t sound good,” Ana shouted over the shrill blare of a smoke alarm upon entering the kitchen. She waved smoke from her face as A.J. cursed and tossed a sizzling hot pan into the sink and quickly turned on the faucet to douse the . . . blackened chicken? “I thought you knew how to cook.”
Ana couldn’t help but giggle as she watched A.J.
plant his hands on his hips and stare at what was supposed to be their dinner.
The smoke detector stopped beeping, and he arched his shoulders back before turning to face her.
“I do, but it’s been a while. I took a phone call and forgot the stove was on. ”
“Ah. That happens.” She smiled and maneuvered around the kitchen island to be nearer to him. “And now aren’t you glad I insisted on buying the frozen pizza?”
“You were right, madam,” he said while preheating the oven.
“Who was on the phone?” Work?
“Jessica. She has an update, but I told her I’d like her to share the news with you as well, so we’ll have a video call with her soon.
You know, since I’m trying to be open and honest with ya.
” He took off the white apron that read SEALs ARE BETTER in bold crimson letters and tossed it onto the counter.
Ana stifled a laugh. “Let me guess, you got that for your buddy as a housewarming gift?”
“Damn straight.” He’d changed clothes and was now wearing navy blue cargo shorts, a gray V-neck, and black flip-flops.
She did a quick and hopefully discreet scan of his lower half since it was the first time she’d seen the man in shorts.
He had the perfect amount of drool-worthy muscles on his tan legs.
His feet were tan too, strong looking like those of a surfer.
And when did I start finding that sexy? “We like to rag on each other.”
“I can see that.” Ana rested a hip against the counter and watched him slowly close the space between them, coming to a stop mere inches from her.
Taken off guard, her breath hitched when he leaned in, braced a hand on the marble countertop off to her side, and sniffed her neck like she was the Alabama state flower. “Mmm, coconut. You tried Patty’s soap, didn’t ya?” he murmured in her ear.
His warm breath caressed her neck, and when she drew in a shaky gasp, their chests lightly touched.
Oh geez. She reached her arms back and grabbed the edge of the counter, holding on for dear life.
The warm, tingling sensation flowing through her body just might cause her to melt into a puddle right there on the floor.
This man was making her all kinds of hot and bothered.
And based on the devilish smirk on his handsome face when he leaned back, he knew it.
“I, um.” Her eyes dipped to his parted lips, still so close to hers, and she wondered if he would move in to see if she tasted like coconut as well.
She was curious how his mouth would feel on other parts of her body, too.
Her face was so hot she was almost afraid she’d spoken her lustful thoughts aloud, but she forced her eyes to his.
“I guess I did.” Oh God. Was that her voice?
It sounded raspy, sexy . . . like desire had wrapped itself around her vocal cords.
The edge of his lip shifted between his teeth as he continued to study her.
So. Much. Lust. It swirled in his light green eyes and had her squeezing her thighs together. Passion radiated from his body and hit her like a storm. Bolts of lightning and cracks of thunder struck her fast and hard.
Naked cowboy. A new fantasy formed in her mind, and in it, A.J. wasn’t quite naked. He had on well-worn jeans, chaps, and a cowboy hat.
“Patty makes the best homemade soap this side of Alabama,” A.J. said as if either of them gave a damn about soap or Patty right now. He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh? And who makes the best on the other side?” She arched her back a touch, drawn to him like a magnet, desperate with need.
“Damn, woman, I really like you.” This was not a declaration of his undying devotion. His tone was teasing, playful, and yet he was still occupying her space and staring at her like he wanted to eat her for dinner.
She took a few shallow breaths and willed herself not to collapse into his strong arms and beg him to have his way with her, like he probably expected to happen.
“I think Alabama might actually be doing her thing and turning you into a Southerner.” His gaze dropped to her braid hanging in front of her shoulder, and he reached out to take the end between his fingers. “You’re wet.”
“I am,” she murmured, and then blinked in shock at her admission.
The side of his mouth did some cute curl, and she followed his gaze to her shirt.
“Ohhh.” Her face heated with the force of a thousand suns when she saw the now-sheer white fabric where her wet braid had lain, directly over her right breast. The sight of her nipple poking clear as day through her sheer bra had her slinging both arms across her chest, resulting in the loss of her balance.
If she weren’t so mortified, she’d have laughed at her clumsiness.
A.J. released her braid, quickly gripped a hand around her hip, and pulled her close to steady her.
Their playful teasing suddenly took a back seat to unmistakable desire the second her body was up against his strong frame.
Her arms were wedged between them, but he brought his free hand beneath her chin, and with a finger, tilted her face, silently demanding she look at him.
Once Ana was face-to-face with A.J., fear grabbed hold of her.
Just looking into his trusting, caring eyes made her feel like a fraud and a liar.
She squeezed her eyes shut as thoughts of what was currently her life sailed to mind—the truth about her parents, the mission Porter had given her . . . Porter. Please let Porter be okay.
“Look at me,” A.J. commanded, a sexy rasp in his tone that had her wanting to let go. To forget every sentence that began with “No” or “I can’t.”
She relaxed her arms, allowing them to fall, and without that barrier, there was nothing else between them. Nothing but her worries.
“Look at me.” His tone was rougher this time, and it was as if his palm had stroked her center and parted her legs when he’d spoken.
“I’m scared,” she confessed, her voice wobbly. “You may not want to kiss me once you know the truth about me.”
He was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t step away at her words.
He didn’t release her. “What makes you think I want to kiss you?” he challenged, ignoring her admission because A.J.
was A.J., she’d quickly learned, and he couldn’t help himself whenever he had a chance to playfully give her a hard time.
But his teasing question did the trick, and she opened her eyes. He got his way. She was looking at him. And what she witnessed had her knees buckling. His green eyes held a gentle warmth and conveyed an intense longing she hadn’t believed existed.
“I got you,” he said with a firm but tender voice, instinctively knowing to hold her tighter to keep her from sinking with the weight of all the emotions she was experiencing. “And I do want to kiss you.”
“You do?” Dumb question. But she wanted to hear him say it again.
His lips crooked into a semi-smile as he brought his hand from beneath her chin to cup her cheek. “I really, really do.” He lowered his head, prepared to do exactly what he said he wanted to do, but the sound of chirping, or a ring of sorts, had him stopping just shy of kissing her.
“Is that your team?” she whispered, his warm palm still on her cheek, his mouth hovering an inch from hers.
“Yes, but—”
“We shouldn’t make them wait.” With a sigh, he set his forehead to hers.
She wanted his kiss. His touch. But he needed to hear the truth first. Their kiss had to be pure and innocent. No guilt clawing at her. She would do things differently this time.
He leaned back, his hand falling from her face, a flood of disappointment in his eyes. It was a painful sight to see.
Ana set a hand over his palm on her hip the moment he’d started to turn, stopping him. “A.J.?”
“Yeah?” he mouthed as if it was too difficult to use his voice.
“Just so you know, I really wanted to kiss you, too.”