“Speaking of being gone,” I kept my voice casual. “Where have you been going lately? What kind of work does my grandfather have you doing?”
Haze sat back and chewed his chocolate eclair for too long. I knew he was trying to decide how much to tell me. At least I knew he wouldn't lie to me. Not anymore.
Finally, he said, “I had a lead I was following.”
I set down my coffee cup so my shaking hands wouldn't spill anything. “You mean a lead about my kidnapper?”
He nodded. “Your grandfather wasn't happy with the slow rate of progress the police were making, so he asked me to look into things. I had a lead.”
“Did it pan out?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “But it will.”
I didn't like the sound of that. I shoved my plate aside and crossed my arms over my chest. “You're not going to turn it over to the police, are you?” When he didn't answer, I continued, “Don't you think it's a little dangerous now that armed men are attacking us in broad daylight?”
Haze took my hand again, turning my palm so he could press his lips against it. “Yes, I'm going to turn it over to the police, and yes, I think it's too dangerous now.” He smiled at me. “I'm not crazy.”
“Well, you’re the guy who lunged at a man with a loaded gun,” I countered.
Suddenly, he stood up and came to kneel next to my chair. “Let's get one thing straight, I only did that because of you, sweetheart. I'm crazy for you.”
I took his face between my hands and kissed him, a firm, sweet kiss. His lips parted, tongue teasing as he kissed me through a smile. When he finally pulled back, I sighed. I'd seen him hundreds of times before, but today every glance was a new thrill.
That night, I wanted to surprise Haze with dinner in the newly finished pool house. The Roman columns gave the entire structure an open air feel, so the first thing I had to tackle was creating privacy. I wasn't ashamed of him, but I wanted it to be just us.
All day, I'd tasted him on my lips, my tongue, felt my body clutch where he'd reached me deep inside. I'd felt myself burning with every memory throughout the day. Now, it created a new kind of heat inside me.
I pulled the long curtains between the columns and weighted the bottom with planters to create filmy walls. Against the white backdrop, I moved a carved teak privacy screen, large potted palms, and an enormous free-standing antique mirror. The curtains still fluttered in the gentle breeze, but the room felt close and intimate.
Instead of a huge dinner, I spread all of Haze's favorites on trays along the wide gilded coffee table. We could nibble however we wished. Champagne on ice completed the spread. One couch made for a wide lounging place, and as my final inspiration, I brought in the copper fire pit that had stood unused except as a potted plant holder. I placed it diagonal from the couch where the lazy ceiling fans would push the smoke out over the bar while the crackling fire kept us cozy.
His voice came from behind me. “You said pool house so I assumed you wanted to go for a swim.”
I turned as he looked at my dress, and then back at his swim trunks.
“You're right,” I said, smiling at him. “But we don't need swim suits to go swimming.”
As he watched, I stripped off my dress and panties, and then led him down the curving steps into the warm water of the pool. Once the water lapped at my breasts, I turned around to find him setting his swim trunks on the edge of the pool. A moment later, he pulled me against his chest, his good arm circling around me..
“This looks amazing, sweetheart. You have real talent.”
“I was inspired,” I said with a soft smile. “Actually, that inspired me to do something even better.”
He pulled my arms around his neck, careful of his bandaged shoulder, and swirled us through the water. I kissed him again, almost forgetting what I was trying to tell him.
When I broke the kiss, I kept my arms around him. “I went to the rehabilitation center to put in a proposal to design their therapy pool. I thought if I made it stylish and functional, it would be a good way to launch myself as a designer.”
He smiled at me. “I'm starting to think that physical therapy in the pool is exactly what I need.”
I chuckled as I slipped away. “I don't think so, Soldier. Not with your shoulder. And think of the champagne I have on ice.”
“That's not what I'm thinking about,” Haze said, his tone pleasantly dark as he watched me walk up the steps.
On the third step, I stopped and turned, catching my breath as I saw he was right there. I was at eye level with him, our faces only inches apart. He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. His lips ghosted their way down my jaw and then to my throat. My eyes closed as my head fell back.
Then I felt him start to lift me and I pulled back. “Nope. Shoulder, Soldier.”
His eyes narrowed, but he let me go as I backed up the rest of the stairs. “You keep calling me Soldier and I'm not going to care about my shoulder.”
The words shouldn't have sent a shiver through me, but they did. I hurried behind the curtains, not trusting myself to stay out in the open with a very hot, very sexy Haze.
When he joined me a moment later, the heat was still in his eyes, but his bandage was gone. I swallowed hard. The gunshot wound was small, sewn closed with precise stitches, but the sight of it still hurt me.
I walked toward him, the mood shifting as I looked at his shoulder. “I almost lost you yesterday. You almost lost your life for me.”
“There was no way I was letting them get you into that van.” The words were thick with emotion. “Never again, Leighton. I swear, I will always keep you safe.”
I pressed my lips just above the wound. The feel of his warm, vibrant skin against my mouth was reassuring. Across the top of his shoulder, and up the side of his neck until I felt his pulse jumping against my lips.
His hands slid up my arms, then down my back, riding on the moisture still slick there from the pool. When he brought his hands back up, he hooked his thumbs around to trace over my stomach and tease the bottom curve of my breasts, I couldn't help but let a moan escape.
Suddenly, he was lifting me onto the counter beside the bar, but before I could scold him, he nudged my legs apart. When his hands retraced their sliding caress, and his thumbs brushed over my wet nipples, I arched into his touch.
I tangled my hands in his hair as his tongue joined his thumbs, teasing and rolling until they were hard points. When he sucked one into his mouth, each pull went straight from my breast to the pulse point between my legs and I let my fingernails rake down his back. He swore against my breast as I gripped his taut ass and pulled him closer to me. The force of how much I needed him shook me.
Then he dropped to his knees and my attention went with him. My breath caught on a ragged gasp as he made his way up my thighs, placing alternating kisses until I felt his breath against my most sensitive skin.
The first kiss was so light, so tight with restrained passion that I cried out. Then he kissed me, hot, wet, and deep, his head buried between my legs, my fingers twisting in his hair as he brought me to a quick and intense orgasm.
I was still quivering when he stood up and pulled my hips toward the edge of the counter. Even as his cock nudged against me, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him toward me. His mouth came down on mine as he drove into me, filling me. I cried out, but he swallowed the sound, and every sound that came after it as his hips snapped forward over and over.
I dug my nails into his shoulders, barely remembering to be careful. The sensations coursing through me were nearly all I could think about. Then, his lips moved and he yanked my head to the side. I couldn't hold back the wail that escaped when he bit down on my neck, his teeth and lips working over the skin until I knew he'd marked me. Then he was burying himself deep, crying out my name, and the feel of him pulsing inside me brought me to the edge a second time.
I clutched him to me, not wanting to lose contact as we came down. Only
when the air had dried the sweat from our skin did we move. Minutes later, we put our clothes back on, and Haze poured two glasses of champagne.
Haze was in the middle of handing me a glass when he froze. A moment later, I heard the footsteps too. Someone was coming and we were completely exposed.
Before panic could set in, a voice came through the curtains.
“It's me,” Grandfather said, his voice strange, shaken. “I wouldn't have interrupted...but you have to know.” His next words were muffled. “It’s Ian. He's missing.”
Chapter 22
Haze
We left the champagne to go flat and spent the rest of the night in Devlin's study. He called, emailed, and messaged every contact he could think of who might know something.
While he did that, Leighton spent hours on hold with government agencies, hearing the same spiel about how grateful everyone was for Ian's service, and how she would be contacted as soon as any relevant information came from overseas.
I was busy too, putting calls in to my commanding officer, my family, and anyone else I could think of who might know a back channel. Sometimes, the army knew more than they told the family, and I hoped this was one of those situations because it would mean they were doing something to get him back.
Or that things were worse than Ian being MIA.
Late into the night, we worked, trying to think of what we could do short of jumping on a plane. And I hadn't ruled that out yet.
“I can't believe I don't have a single contact who can tell me anything,” Devlin said. “Fucking military intelligence.”
The words weren't loud enough to wake Leighton, but they were vicious enough to concern me. I wondered if this was one of the only times Devlin Pope hadn't been able to use his money and power to get what he wanted.
Moments later, his words clicked. “Military intelligence? I know someone, and he's in town.”
When Devlin looked at me, his eyes were bright with tears and I saw the same desperation on his face that I'd seen when Leighton had been kidnapped. “I can't just sit here with nothing.” He looked over to where Leighton had finally fallen asleep. “When she wakes up, I can't tell her that I don't have anything.”
“My friend's at the hospital, so I can't go now, but I'll go first thing in the morning.”
I straightened, my back cracking. I didn't want anything to happen to Ian, but I was the least emotionally involved. I had to make sure they took care of themselves.
“We all need to get some sleep,” I said. “I'm going to take her up to her room.”
“Not the guest house?” Devlin sounded surprised, but he didn't argue with me, telling me that he was more tired than he looked.
“When she wakes up in the morning and I'm gone, I need to know she's with you,” I said. “You'll need each other while I'm looking for answers.”
I allowed myself the luxury of a few hours of sleep next to Leighton, her body tucked tightly against mine, but as soon as the sun started to come up, I was ready to go.
A quick call to the rehab center told me that Fordman's habits hadn't changed from when we'd served together. He was on his way to the center and would arrive shortly before I did.
The halls were quiet when I entered, but they weren't empty. I was surprised to see Dr. David leaning against a wall, jotting notes. He looked up when I came in and then pushed himself off the wall, coming toward me with an outstretched hand.
“How's my patient. More importantly, how's my volunteer?”
“I've only strained the wound a few times, just spotting, no actual bleeding,” I answered honestly.
“Glad to hear it.”
Enough chatting. “Actually, I'm here about Leighton. Her brother's MIA and I think you have a patient who might be able to help. I just need to know where he is.” Before Dr. David could respond, I added, “He's a friend of mine. Fordman.”
“That's Captain Fordman to you, Sergeant,” a voice said.
Dr. David and I both turned to see my friend marching toward us, a slight roll to his gait that hadn't existed when I'd known him before. He was only five-eight, but his hawkish nose, sharp shoulders, and ramrod posture made him an intimidating figure to any height. The shaved head and ragged scar above his left ear only added to his air of command and I automatically saluted him.
“Now tell me I can do something useful, Sergeant, something besides strolling these godforsaken narrow hallways and twiddling my thumbs,” Captain Fordman said.
“Yes, sir. I need information. An enlisted man named Ian Machus is MIA and I want to give the family something they can hang on to.”
“Use my office,” Dr. David said. “Third door down on the right. I'll be making rounds so it's yours all morning.”
Captain Fordman stopped in the doorway when we reached it and turned to shake my hand. “Thanks for coming to visit me. I know you would have been here sooner, but it seems you've been a bit busy lately. Getting shot and all.”
My neck got hot. “I see the news is making the rounds.”
He nodded. “You and that Miss Machus of yours. The soldiers around here haven't stopped yapping about her for two weeks. Seems she's been infusing the whole damn place with rays of sunshine.”
“You haven't met her?” I asked.
He shoved me through the doorway despite our difference in size. “Haven't had the pleasure. A couple of ski-mask wearing motherfuckers jumped the line.” He gave me a harsh look. “Tell me you're taking care of that.”
I jammed my hands into my pockets. “I told Leighton I would let the police handle it. She's a little jumpy after I got shot.”
“So she's that kind of she to you.” Captain Fordman cocked an eyebrow. “And I'm right in assuming it's her brother you're inquiring about?”
“Yes, do you know anything?” I asked.
Captain Fordman shrugged as he leaned against the desk. “Maybe. I've had other visitors besides you. One just the other day. The man wanted to talk about something that happened to a team of young enlisted men I was working with a few months back. This new kind of pull where the men are funneled into a tight spot and isolated. They either get out or panic and get dead.”
I sat down on Dr. David's couch, a lump forming in my stomach. “What should I tell Leighton?”
“You'll tell her what I'm sure is true about her brother since you're not acting like he's an idiot. He's got a good head on his shoulders and he's holding tight. She's just got to let him get through. The cell service over there ain't what it should be.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “And I'm going to tell you this because I can read your goddamn thoughts. You cannot go over there until you're sure she's safe here. You face that young soldier and tell him his sister's still in danger, and he'll never forgive you.”
I sighed. He was right. “You'll let me know as soon as you hear something more?”
“Affirmative.”
I shook Captain Fordman's hand and marched down the hall. I wasn't even close to a hundred percent, but I didn't have a choice. If I was going to find Ian for Leighton, I had to find her kidnappers first.
Chapter 23
Haze
The police officer standing outside the hospital room looked increasingly uncomfortable as I marched towards him. The man who'd shot me had ended up as a patient after I'd fractured his skull against the pavement. Apparently, there'd been some brain swelling that had delayed his transfer. I wasn't sure if the cop’s presence was to keep the man secure or keep someone like me from finishing the job.
I stopped in front of the officer and held out my hands, palm up. “I just want to ask him a few questions.”
“No, sir. I'm sorry, but I know who you are, and you're not allowed in the room.”
“Did your captain tell you who I am? Did he also tell you that I'm Leighton Machus' private security? It's my job to talk to that man and find out who hired him.”
“The police have already questioned him.”
I had to give the man credit. I was leaning
into him, but he wasn't budging. I’d have to try another tact. “Do you know who Leighton Machus' grandfather is? Devlin Pope.”
The man swallowed hard.
“If you don't let me talk to that man, I guarantee you, Devlin Pope will use quite a bit of his vast resources to make sure you're writing parking tickets on the nightshift for the rest of your life.”
As I entered the room, the man in the bed shrank back against his pillows, his eyes wide. “What's going on? I don't understand?”
His speech was blunted, his expression foggy. He was clearly on some serious pain meds. I was just thankful he wasn't on a ventilator or in a coma.
“Don't worry,” I said. “I'm going to make it easy on you. Just describe to me who hired you. We don't even need to start with names, just tell me what they look like.”
He frowned at me, but didn't look frightened anymore. “I don't know. Never saw them, just the waitress. Wait, what do you call a coffee shop girl?” The man drifted into incoherent muttering. “Black hair, like silk, satin. I dunno, something nice.”
“I'm not looking for the barista,” I said, then did a mental double take. “Wait, what about a coffee shop?”
“That's how I found out about the job,” the man said. “I got a cup of coffee and the beaut-ista made my coffee, but the other guy delivered it with an envelope. Wished she would've. She was pretty.”
He closed his eyes and made kissy noises. Thankful I was alone, I grabbed the patient's wrist. His eyes flew open and I clamped my other hand over his mouth as I twisted the wrist.
“I know how it works in the coffee shop,” I said, squeezing harder. “Now you're going to tell me who sent the envelope to your table.”
“How do I know?” the man yelped when I removed my hand.
“Same way I know you're a boxer and you need your wrist intact if you ever want to fight again. I see your name on your chart and I've seen it before, on a poster at the same gym a man by the name of Lennon worked out at. Lennon and I know each other too.”