Chapter 28
Brooke
I showered quickly, keeping my hair out of the water.
There were only two bathrooms for the eight of us, and the hot water was vanishing quickly.
Once I was dried off, I slipped into jeans and a high-necked sweater.
Some foreign part of me had thought about wearing a T-shirt today, like I did when I was alone.
Rav’s reaction last night must have fried your brain.
The memory of his lips on my skin, tracing my scars without revulsion, sent a pleasant shiver through me. I closed my eyes and imagined his tongue against my clit, like it would have been last night, if we hadn’t been interrupted. Imagined his hands, his fingers, and his lips. His cock buried—
Calm down, girl.
We’d agreed to keep our distance until the mission was over. I could handle that. I’d spent years walling off my feelings for him. Surely I could manage another forty-eight hours. But when I stepped out of the bathroom, the first challenge of the day stared straight at me.
Rav stood opposite the door, leaning against the wall, looking even sexier than last night. He wore loose cotton pajama pants and a plain white T-shirt that did little to conceal his muscular frame, which my hands had been all over last night.
His eyes darkened when he spotted me, and something magnetic passed between us.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
“Morning.” He pushed off the wall, tucked his toiletry bag under his arm, and closed the distance between us with deliberate steps. He didn’t stop until I backed against the wall beside the bathroom door. “I dreamed about you last night.”
The low rumble of his voice sent a cascade of sensations through my body.
“Oh?”
He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Very… graphic.”
My gaze dropped involuntarily, catching the unmistakable outline of his morning wood through the cotton pants.
The sight triggered a rush of memories—moments stolen between trips outside the FOB, late-night security checks he claimed were to ensure the lone female on the team was safe, fingers brushing as we passed each other so no one would see.
“You’re supposed to keep this professional,” I reminded him, though my body was begging to bow out from the wall to touch his.
“Professional in front of the team,” he corrected, fingers tracing the edge of my collar, careful not to dip below it. “No one’s around.”
Electricity danced across my skin. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“Remember that sink in the officers’ washroom?” He pulled back, his lips curved in a half-smile.
Caught between amusement and arousal, I whispered, “The one in here looks sturdier.”
His fingers traced a slow line from my collar, down my sternum, and between my breasts. “This is better than not looking at each other.”
I was about to haul him inside the bathroom and lock us inside when a door down the hallway opened with a soft click. We broke apart instantly, like two teens caught by their parents.
Scarlett walked out of our room, already dressed and alert. Her eyes flicked between us. “Tactical planning?”
Rav shifted his stance, adopting a casual posture. “I informed Brooke I’d drive her to pick up the incursion suits in fifteen minutes.”
“Actually,” Scarlett replied, “we need you at Pompeii this morning, Rav. Drew texted me about the cameras last night, and I want you to handle it. If Percival’s available, he’s my pick to go with you.”
Disappointment coiled in my stomach, but I didn’t let her see. We had a day and a half until the concert. Equipment failures weren’t just inconvenient—they were potentially catastrophic for surveillance.
“I’ll contact Percival,” I said, avoiding Rav’s eyes. “He can meet you there.”
“Perfect,” Scarlett nodded. “I spoke with Mario about it, and he’ll get you in through the House of the Arches entrance. He felt it would be wise to enter farther from the amphitheater. I’ll get the coffee started.”
As she disappeared down the staircase, Rav’s eyes locked with mine. We did have a mission to focus on. But dammit, the way he was looking at me. Before either of us could speak, the other bathroom door opened, and Malcolm stepped out, freshly showered and fully dressed.
“Scarlett just texted me,” he said, not slowing on his way to the stairs. “I’m driving Brooke to the university.”
A muscle tightened in Rav’s jaw. Driving me to the lab hadn’t simply been a cover story. He wanted to be the one to take me. “I’ll head to Pompeii for nine.”
The anxiety flashing through me was irrational. We’d been apart for six years. I could certainly handle a few hours’ separation. But after last night—after everything we’d finally said and all the walls we’d torn down—being apart felt wrong at a molecular level.
The sound of Malcolm’s steps faded down the stairs, and Rav’s eyes landed on me again.
I reached for the hem of his shirt, cueing him to move closer again. “How soon until someone else comes out of one of the rooms?”
He gave a tiny chuckle. “Probably the moment I get too close.”
“Probably.” I let go of his shirt and patted his chest. “I should go. The sooner I’m done with Norris, the better.”
“Don’t let him shit-talk you. And if he tries, tell him I’ll pay him a visit.” He winked, and as another door clicked open, he vanished into the bathroom.
After dropping my things off in the bedroom, I joined Scarlett and Malcolm in the kitchen. She handed me a steaming mug without comment. The rich aroma of Mario’s secret roast was a welcome pick-me-up.
“Norris is expecting us at nine,” I said, checking my watch. “I’ll call Percival about meeting Rav.”
Scarlett nodded, and I retreated to the study to call him.
He answered quickly.
“How are your shadows?” I asked.
“Three teams, rotating shifts,” he replied with a long sigh. “Nothing direct, but they’re not subtle about it. I can’t believe it’s gone on so fucking long.”
I explained the camera issues and suit pickup. “Can you meet Rav at the park?”
“Huck was about ready to go into the tunnels himself,” he said. “The man can’t handle surveillance dying. You okay handling Norris?”
“Malcolm’s going with me.” I rolled my shoulder, catching myself before I pulled my hair forward for the fiftieth time this morning. “Should be straightforward.”
“Norris is never straightforward.” Percival groaned, expressing his irritation with the misogynistic ass. “He contacted someone at Langley yesterday asking about Pendragon’s current operations.”
“Langley?” My grip tightened on the phone. “What the fuck?”
“Bobcat got a heads up, and we were able to reroute the inquiry to Pendragon HQ. Nothing’s compromised, but Norris is digging.”
“I’ll manage him,” I said, more confidently than I felt. “Just get those cameras operational. And be safe.”
After ending the call, I found Malcolm waiting by the door, keys in hand. “Ready?”
I nodded, slinging my messenger bag across my body. “Let’s go.”
After making idle chitchat for the first ten minutes, he said, “You and Rav served together?”
“Afghanistan. Six years ago,” I replied. “Counter-WMD operation.”
“I didn’t know he did that.” He navigated through the city rather than taking a more direct route, continually checking his mirrors. “Must be strange, working together again.”
“It’s an adjustment.” I studied his profile, weighing how much to reveal. “Percival was with us back then.”
“You’re happier working with operators than civilians?”
I stared out the window as we navigated between stucco houses with their terracotta roofs. “Happier? I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
“More comfortable, then?”
It was an odd question, but he’d nailed the truth.
I’d gone to Syria to complete my PhD research, then wound up in Afghanistan.
Spent a few years in a lab trying to figure out how to be comfortable in that situation, then a chance reunion with Percival had me signing up for the Greek Fire hunt at Pendragon.
That work nourished my soul.
“My dad was career military,” Malcolm pivoted. “The Reynolds team runs differently from the military. More flexible command structure, but you’ll probably notice some similarities.”
“I have,” I said, grateful for the shift in conversation. “You and Scarlett make a good team.”
A sudden, sharp laugh burst out of him. “She pulled a gun on me the first time I showed up at her place.”
I couldn’t help but join in his laughter. “Things seem to be going better now?”
He recounted their first job, how they’d started on opposite sides of a recovery, how he’d been kidnapped, and how he’d forced himself onto the team to rescue Emmett.
His love for Scarlett was clear throughout the entire story, despite how many times she apparently yelled at him and had zip-tied him to her car.
As he parked in the university lot, I checked my phone. No messages from Rav. Not sure why I was expecting one. Maybe it was more of that hope thing.
“Wait in the car,” I told Malcolm as I undid my seat belt. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“Not a chance,” he replied, his tone light but firm. “Rav would never forgive me if I let you out of my sight.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a package that needs constant monitoring.”
“Humor me,” he said with a half-smile.
Secretly, I appreciated the backup. Norris had always been difficult, and Percival’s warning about his inquiries left me uneasy.
The lab was quieter today, with only Norris and one assistant inside. The treated suits lay on a large table, in vacuum-sealed packaging. Seeing them brought an immediate sense of relief—one critical mission component complete.
“Dr. McAllister,” Norris acknowledged without rising from his stool. “I appreciate your impeccable timing.”
He’d used my title. Not only did he not call me ‘the Canadian girl,’ but he actually used my title?
“You’re done with the suits?” I pointed at the obvious evidence that he was.
“We finished the final quality checks a half-hour ago.” He gestured toward the table, barely glancing at Malcolm, who waited by the door.
Probably figured he was my bodyguard of the day.
“The oleophobic coating exceeded specifications—we achieved one hundred fifteen degree contact angle on all samples.”
I approached the table, examining the nearest package. “And the flexibility metrics?”
“All parameters met.” He finally stood, handing me a sheet of paper with test results.
I reviewed the data, searching for any problems, but didn’t find any. That’s why I’d swallowed my pride and come to Norris. He was an ass, but he was good at what he did.
“Thank you for expediting this,” I said.
He was being paid for speed, so he didn’t need a thank you, but there it was anyway.
Norris narrowed his eyes and edged closer to me. “Yes, well, it’s not every day I have the opportunity to contribute to covert paramilitary operations in a sovereign nation.”
Shit. Here we go. “Excuse me?”
“After you left, I made some inquiries.” He tapped one of the suits. “Pendragon Security has attracted attention from Italian authorities. Something about unauthorized American operators in Naples.”
I glanced at Malcolm, who’d drifted toward Norris’s desk. That was odd. I said, “We’re private security consultants, not paramilitary.”
“Then what do you need these for?” Norris flattened his hand on the suit. “These aren’t standard security gear, Dr. McAllister. They’re specialized chemical warfare protection. The coating protocol alone suggests a chemical threat.”
The assistant looked up from her workstation, pretending to focus on her monitor while listening intently.
“Our operations are classified. You should be familiar with things like that from our OPCW deployment.”
“The difference being, the OPCW had international authorization.” His voice lowered. “What are you planning, Brooke? Is this related to Barin Kala?”
The unwanted reminder of that day made my scars tingle. Before I could find a response, Malcolm stepped forward smoothly.
“Dr. Norris,” he said, his voice carrying the cool authority of someone used to defusing tensions, “I understand your concerns. But I can assure you, we’re operating with full clearance from appropriate channels.”
Norris glared at him. “And you are?”
“Lucius Stone. Stone Security Systems.” He extended his hand with an easy confidence. “We’re a tech firm collaborating with Pendragon on a private security matter. Nothing that would concern local authorities.”
Norris didn’t take the offered hand. “Tech firms and private security don’t require chemical warfare protection.”
“Some of our clients have unique requirements.” Malcolm flashed a disarming smile. “Corporate espionage occasionally involves unusual threats.”
I grabbed the case for the suits and began packing up, letting Malcolm handle Norris. I also retrieved the sample vial I’d provided earlier.
“Corporate espionage?” Norris repeated with a skeptical frown. “With specialized chemical protection?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss specifics, but I can provide contact information for our legal department if you have formal concerns.” The casual confidence in his voice was masterful—neither defensive nor confrontational.
Norris seemed momentarily convinced by the approach. Or just confused and unable to find another angle.
I zipped the case closed. “We appreciate your work, Dr. Norris. The final payment will process today as agreed.”
Norris’s eyes darted between us, clearly unsatisfied but lacking the verbal skill to spar with Malcolm. “If there’s a chemical incident in Naples…”
“You have my word there won’t be,” I said, meeting his gaze directly.
Part of me wanted to warn him—or his lab associate—to get out of the city. But if I did, who else would they tell? How fast would the news travel on the Internet? How would Fenix react? Where would they move the attack? When?
We exited the lab, Malcolm’s hand at my elbow as he guided me through the door—a subtle but effective reminder to anyone watching that I wasn’t alone.
Once in the hallway, I released a slow breath. “Stone Security Systems?”
“Old habits,” he said with a shrug, as though it explained anything. “He just wants to be in the know. He’s a harmless old man who isn’t doing what he thinks he should be.”
As we crossed the parking lot, I glanced back. Maybe Malcolm was right. I hadn’t been happy in a lab after everything I’d done, either. Even with everything that happened to me, I craved being part of something bigger.