Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
His vibrating cell rousted him from sleep, and he groaned and slapped his hand on the table in search for it.
He knocked it to the ground and lifted his head to look over at Eva, sound asleep next to him.
Her hair covered most of her face, and when he sat up, he shifted the mass of dark locks off her cheek so he could better see her.
So damn beautiful. And smart. And witty. Also stubborn, in a breathtaking way.
The moment he’d taken her into his arms, he’d known he was in trouble.
He had one rule for not only himself, but his team, and he was terrified this woman had the potential to blow it to pieces.
Four days. Had it only been four days since they’d met?
Today was the day she was actually supposed to show up at her cabin. But today was also the day he realized he was capable of something he thought he’d buried deep inside of him for the sake of the job.
Country first.
Country always.
But . . .
He let out a soft but frustrated sigh and dragged his palms down his face before grabbing his phone off the floor.
A text popped up from Jessica a moment later.
Emergency. Call me.
He walked naked over to the window.
Waiting for the line to connect, he opened the blinds and looked out at the mountain in the distance as the sun roared to life like a giant ball of fire from behind the top peak.
“I need you on a plane within three hours. You think you can make it to Philly in time?” Jessica cut straight to the point.
“What about the consulate and New York?”
“Malik Yilmaz just showed his face outside the French Embassy in Monaco. He looked right at the camera as if saying, Come get me, motherfuckers.”
“What the hell is he doing there, and how did he get out of the States without us knowing about it?”
“No damn idea, but believe me, I’m looking into it. I’m also checking to see if he or his brother ever traveled to Monaco. Will alerted POTUS to the change in plans. I’m en-route to the airport. I’m taking a flight to Nice in two hours, then the team and I will drive to Monaco from there.”
Luke glanced back at Eva, stirring in her sleep. “Do we have any assets in Monaco that can try and get a location on him in the meantime? Anyone we can trust, I should say.”
“Yeah. Remember Harper Brooks? She’s a CIA field agent, and she’s stationed outside Nice. Will didn’t want to bring anyone outside our team into this, but we can’t risk losing Malik, so he’s sending her in now. I’ve got my facial recognition program running—if he’s still there, I’ll find him.”
“Good.” Luke’s shoulders relaxed at the idea of this all hopefully ending soon. “Do you think Malik’s taking a page from our playbook and trying to bait us to him?”
“Looks that way. Why else would he risk leaving hiding?”
He grabbed his strewn clothes off the floor, catching Eva’s eyes when he stood upright. “I take it Harper can’t grab Malik for us, so we can call it a day?”
“Sure, wiseass.”
“Everything okay?” Eva whispered, sitting now.
“Yeah,” he mouthed and added, “Give me a sec.”
She nodded and fisted the sheet close to her skin.
“Why are we flying commercial? Do you want him to know we’re coming?”
“We don’t have time to coordinate a military flight, especially without raising any alarms as to who the hell we are—and I can’t get a private jet on such short notice. Besides, Malik’s expecting us.”
He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder while pulling on his boxers and jeans, and then a thought hit him like a bullet, and he slowly turned toward the stunning woman in bed. “What about Eva?”
“She comes with us,” Jessica said after a few seconds of silence passed.
“I don’t like this.” Taking Eva to Europe with him? How could he put her in even more danger?
“We don’t have a choice. There’s no time to arrange a bodyguard for her, and aside from two of our guys staying back to babysit Ender’s comatose body, everyone needs to be in Monaco.”
“I’m not a huge fan of walking directly into a trap,” Luke muttered.
“Since when do we do that?” A long breath came through the line. “Just call me when you get to Philly. I’m making arrangements for two new IDs and passports to be delivered to a locker at the bus terminal outside the airport. Once I have confirmation, I’ll get you the passcode to the locker.”
“Okay. Be safe.” He ended the call, tucked the phone in his pocket, and then settled his hands on his hips as he studied Eva standing nervously before him with her lip between her teeth. “You ever been to Monaco?” It was home to the rich and famous—so, maybe . . .
“Yeah, actually.” She smiled.
On the plane, Eva peered at him and a hint of a shy grin touched her glossy lips.
She’d stopped in one of the stores at the airport and bought mascara and gloss. She was a natural beauty, but the gloss did have him wanting to suck the cherry flavor right off her lips.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Cross?” He reached for her hand beneath the tray table.
She rolled her tongue over her lips, and he knew she was purposefully teasing him, which had him hardening already. This woman was something else. “Okay, Mister Cross, given the circumstances.”
Thrown into danger, and yet, she could still roll on the fly with him. Who the hell was she? He wanted to know more and more about her; he couldn’t seem to get enough. He’d found himself pumping her with questions on their drive to the airport.
He shifted the sweater off her right shoulder and pressed his lips to the light dusting of freckles there. “You smell like heaven.”
“I smell like I haven’t taken a shower.” Her shoulders lifted from her soft laugh.
He found her ear. “Actually, you smell like sex.”
She looked up to find his eyes again, their noses almost touching. Her hazel irises burned with lust, reciprocating his own desires. He wanted to pin her down and take his sweet time with her, but they were on board a flight with two hundred people, and so . . .
He doubted they’d have time to be together once in Monaco, so he had to relish the time he had with her now, knowing it’d come to an abrupt end once the mission was over.
He’d go back to his life, and she’d go back to—what exactly? Would she ever be safe as Eva or Everly? Had Malik or Ender given her name to any terrorist organization?
He sat taller and cupped his mouth as he processed potential outcomes for a woman he barely knew, but desperately didn’t want to let go of.
FEAR.
Four letters that packed a bruising punch.
His fear of ever falling for someone, especially someone who could steal his breath, that fear had kept him at arm’s length from women. But Eva . . .
“You know what’s strange?” she asked softly.
“Yeah?”
“I still can’t escape my last name, not even with you.” She swallowed. “The Reed name is still a prickle in my side.”
“How so?”
She shook her head lightly. “I can’t be Everly with you, because that means I’d pull you into the same harsh light I tried escaping from, which would be dangerous for you.
For who you are,” she said in a low voice, even though her words were masked to others by the high altitude and crying baby two rows behind them.
“Do you want to be Everly again?”
“I don’t know.” Her palm flattened on the table next to her coffee, and she stared down at her chipped nails. “You may not even want to see me again after all of this is over, but it kills our chances anyway, doesn’t it? Even living as Eva—if someone found out who I really am . . .”
He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting the natural recoil inside of him he’d honed so well over the years, which kept him from feeling anything for anyone. “It’s not about your last name.” A painful blow of disappointment took hold of him, knowing he’d have to let her go, and soon.
“What’s it about then?” She looked over at the middle row of people with earphones in, watching movies, then peeked behind her to check for the all-clear to talk. “Because your job is classified?” She mouthed the sentence even though no one could hear.
“It’s complicated.” He released her hand as the normal, unmistakable coolness attempted to gather inside of him. He lifted his coffee for a chance to gather his thoughts, to fight off the inevitable truth of who he was—needing more time to just be a man, so he could be with someone like her.
“When is anything good in life ever easy?”
The base of his skull met the back of the seat, and he lowered his drink to the table. He shifted uncomfortably, his knees bumping into his tray table, almost spilling his coffee. “Why don’t we save this conversation for another day?”
Her eyes drew tight, her lips flattening. “What if we don’t have another day?”
“You can’t think like that.”
She looked away from him and out the small window. “I thought the fear of tomorrow not being promised helped you survive the day.”
“You also have to be optimistic that tomorrow will come.”
“It sounds like you constantly have to toe the line. Must make for a hard balancing act.”
He stiffened, his fists turning white-knuckled atop the armrests. He had to keep fighting the impulse to spill the truth about why he couldn’t open his heart up to anyone, even to a woman like her.
“I can’t risk your safety, and I also won’t be another widow-maker.” His words left his mouth in a rush. “I need some air.” He unbuckled, held his coffee, and moved the tray table out of his way to stand.
“We’re on a plane.”
He set his drink back on the table then pressed his palms to the overhead compartment, and he followed her gaze to the tattoo he’d gotten when he’d first joined the SEALs—a rookie mistake. A mistake that could ID him as a SEAL, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove it for some reason.
He dropped his arms. “Bathroom,” he said softly and shook his head, hating he was slipping back into his typical, stony facade—a facade she could see right through . . .