Saving Zola (Sleeper SEALs Book 4) Page 7

  Seconds ticked by. Mike licked his lips. “Let’s not argue. Okay? We’re out. It’s a nice evening.”

  “Deal.” She bent her head to peruse the menu.

  The waiter showed up with their drinks two minutes later, took their orders, and left them.

  Mike took a long swig of his beer and faced Zola. “Tell me about yourself. How did you end up with the DA?” His leg brushed against hers, and he held very still, absorbing her warmth while pretending he didn’t notice.

  She lit up. Good. She loved her job. He wasn’t surprised. “The normal route. Four years of college. Two years of law school. Bar exams. A few unfulfilling jobs for law firms. And then I landed this job. It’s not cushy. The pay is shit. But I love it.” She leaned on her palm and her face remained passionate. Excited.

  He couldn’t keep from smiling at her.

  “And you? How did you end up in the navy?”

  “The normal route,” he mimicked. “Four years of college. Then grad school. Two years with the navy. SEAL exams. I skipped the unfulfilling jobs though and went straight to the Middle East. Did two tours. Got shot. Discharged. Went to work for the FBI.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m a biologist. I take on whatever assignment they hand me and usually spend most of my time in a lab solving the crime. I just spent over a year in Chicago. I was exhausted and took a leave of absence to regroup.”

  “And then you got this job.”

  “And then I got this job,” he repeated.

  “Coincidence?”

  “Is there such a thing?” he asked.

  Her smile grew wider.

  Their food arrived, and they spent the next half hour enjoying one of the best meals he’d had in a long time. Take out and cold sandwiches were his norm.

  Occasionally their arms brushed against each other. He noticed her goosebumps but said nothing.

  When she finished her meal, she turned toward him again, sipping her second glass of wine. “I feel like I’ve slipped into another dimension.”

  He spun his beer glass in circles. “Yeah. It’s surreal. I never expected to see you again.”

  Her face fell into that sad place again.

  He quickly spoke to do damage repair. “Let’s not dwell on the past, okay? We can’t change it. All we can do is move forward.” The last thing he wanted to do was rehash their separation. Ever.

  She nodded, taking another sip of her wine. She didn’t look convinced, nor did she make eye contact with him at the suggestion.

  In his rational mind, he knew he would eventually be forced to face what happened, but if he could put it off indefinitely, he would.

  Was it fair? Probably not. But he intended to do it anyway. If he dumped shit that would royally piss her off at her feet, there was a good chance she would be angry enough to send him packing. And then someone else would have to step in and protect her.

  The reality was he didn’t trust another man with her life. He wasn’t willing to take that risk. No way in hell could he turn the task over to someone else and walk away. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night worrying about her safety and thinking about her sexy body.

  It was too late to turn back the clock now. They were in this. And he needed to see it through to completion. After the terrorists were apprehended, he would sit her down and dish out the ugly facts, but not before. Too risky.

  His feelings for her hadn’t changed in twelve years. So no. He wouldn’t risk her wrath or her safety. Not for anything in the world.

  Of course, that also meant he would be a jackass to sleep with her. He could move forward with the best of intentions. But he knew from experience she was relentless when it came to getting in his pants. She’d managed before, and she would do so again. Today? Tomorrow? Next week?

  He had no idea how long he could fend off her advances. The fact that he didn’t want to made it even harder. It was his own fault for opening this door. He could have kept his hands to himself and put her off. Instead, he’d not only touched her but then gave her a massage on top of things. But he would feel like a dick if he slept with her while knowingly withholding details about their breakup.

  Hurting her was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but it was inevitable. The question was: Could she forgive him? Was there even a remote possibility they could start over?

  He shook the thought from his mind. She would never forgive him for letting her go. And she shouldn’t. He deserved it. Did it mean they couldn’t sleep together? Out of mutual attraction? It was just sex. Not a commitment.

  They sat in silence for several moments.

  Just as Mike finished his beer and set the glass on the table, intent on flagging down the waiter for the bill, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

  It was late. Not that he didn’t get calls at all hours of the day and night, but he never ignored a call, even after regular business hours.

  “Is that your phone?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He pulled it out of his pocket and read the text.

  Tex: Where are you? Call me. Now.

  “Shit,” he muttered as he hit the button to connect with Tex.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He met her gaze while the line connected. “No idea. Can’t be good.”

  Tex answered in one ring. “Mike. Where are you?”

  “Italian restaurant. The one in the strip about a mile north of your house.”

  “Yeah, I know the place. Listen, you’ve been compromised.”

  “Fuck. How do you know?” He glanced around, lowering his voice.

  Zola set her hand on his arm. He wrapped his fingers around hers and faced her, knowing the look on his face was not pretty.

  “Got a notification that security at the house had been breached. Been watching it for about a minute. Two men. Black clothes. Spotted them in every outdoor camera. They checked every window and door and then hid in the bushes.”

  “Fuck,” Mike repeated, probably too loudly. He yanked out his wallet, pulled out more than enough money to cover the bill, and dropped it on the table. Next, he pointed to Zola’s coat and mouthed, “Put your coat on, babe.”

  He slid out of the booth, yanking on his own jacket, reengaging with Tex. “Give me two seconds. Hang on.”

  “You got it.”

  Mike wrapped his arm around a very nervous Zola and looked around before leading her to the front door and rushing her toward the Tahoe. He held up a finger to stop her from getting too close and glanced around the car before finally disengaging the locks.

  Somewhat satisfied it hadn’t been tampered with, he led her to the driver’s side, still holding the phone to his ear. “Gonna start the car, Tex. You still with me?”

  “Yep.”

  Mike looked at Zola. “Stand back a few feet, babe. Let me start it before we get in.” He knew it wasn’t logical. If the car was compromised, they were too close to it to survive an explosion anyway, but he didn’t have many choices. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. He couldn’t very well start the engine without reaching inside. And there was only a small chance anyone had followed them to the restaurant.

  More than likely the men at the house had gotten there after Mike and Zola left, especially since it sounded as though they were now lying in wait.

  The engine started without a problem, and Mike sat halfway in the SUV to put it in drive and then back into park. Satisfied it wasn’t strapped with explosives, he left it running, jumped back down, and took Zola’s hand to lead her to the passenger side.

  Two seconds later, she was safely buckled in, and he was in his own seat, setting the cell phone down as it engaged with the blue tooth. “Tex. I’m back. You’re on speaker. We’re on the move.”

  “Good. Hi, Zola. Nice to meet you. Sorry it’s under duress.” His voice changed back to serious. “Mike, I don’t have to tell you the obvious.”

  “Of course not. Heading west. I’ll jump on the highway in a few minutes.” No way could they return to the hou
se.

  “What’s happening?” Zola finally asked, her voice a bit too high. “Did they find us? I assume they’re at the house?”

  “Yeah.” Mike maneuvered the car onto the interstate. “I’m sorry. I thought we had more time. I never would have taken the risk of going to dinner if I thought someone was that close on our heels.”

  “Gonna point out the obvious again, buddy,” Tex stated. “If you had been in the house, you would probably be in a far bigger bind than you are now.”

  “True.” Mike picked up speed, glancing out the rearview mirror every few seconds. He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles hurt.

  Zola reached across the console and set a hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze.

  He returned the support by grasping her fingers for a moment. But then he needed his hand on the steering wheel. “Can’t tell you how glad I am to have rented your house, man,” he said to Tex.

  “That was convenient. But I’m sorry to say, I don’t have homes all over the country with surveillance set up.” He chuckled. “You’re on your own now. Call your contact and let him know about those two goons. I doubt they’ll hang around long though.”

  “Right. I’ll catch up with you later. Thanks again.” Mike ended the call and grabbed his cell to tap the screen and engage another number.

  Two rings later, he had Greg Lambert on the phone. “Dorsen.”

  “Got a problem.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Two men are at the house. We weren’t there at the time. We’re also not returning.”

  “Got it. Let me get a team over there. I’ll get back with you.” Lambert ended the call without another word.

  Zola’s hand slid away, and she tucked her fingers between her legs.

  “You cold?” He reached for the dials to fiddle with the temperature.

  “No.” She turned her head toward the window. She was scared. Processing. Freaking out probably.

  He couldn’t blame her. She should be. If she’d had any reserved complacency about this situation lingering in her mind, it was erased now. “Gonna get us a safe distance away and then find a hotel.”

  “’Kay.” She turned toward him. “Who was the second man you spoke to?”

  He glanced at her. “My contact with the CIA.”

  “You can’t tell me who it is,” she mumbled.

  “Right.” His chest tightened. There was nothing he could do to console her at the moment. He needed to drive and pay attention to his surroundings. He was certain no one followed them, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  He decided to head north, circling the major cities while working their way back toward Connecticut over several days. Something didn’t sit right, and he thought it was a bad idea to be too far away. His gut said to meander back toward Connecticut.

  She was shivering, so he turned up the heat coming from under the dash on her side of the car. Her legs were bare. And now wasn’t the time to pay close attention to that fact. Sexy as he knew they were, terrorists were after them.

  After a long time, she started asking questions. “Do you think they want to kidnap me for ransom or something?”

  “I don’t know, babe.” He truly didn’t. And he kept his voice calm.

  “What good would it do to kill me? That wouldn’t get my father off their backs. It would infuriate him.”

  “True. Unless…” Should he point out the thought niggling in the back of his mind?

  “What?” She spun to face him.

  He glanced at her wide eyes. “Maybe this has nothing to do with your father at all and everything to do with one of the cases you tried.”

  She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and then nodded. “Shit. Maybe you’re right.”

  “However,” he continued, “if that were the reason, then the case is probably over. What good would it do to kidnap you now? None of the current cases you’re working on concern terrorist attacks. I went through all of them earlier. You’ve been on five cases that were related to terrorism. Of those, three were convicted.”

  “Maybe they want to kidnap me and hold me until the felon is released?”

  “Possible. Not likely. They could kidnap anyone if that were the case. Or an entire building of people. It happens all the time. No need to specifically go after the DA or the assistant DA.”

  She slumped in the seat.

  “I’m going to get off at the next exit and find us a place to stay.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Seven

  Zola was exhausted when they reached the hotel. She wished she could have slept in the car, but every time she closed her eyes, she pictured two men in dark clothes lurking around the fantastic beach home that didn’t even belong to them.

  She hoped those two assholes didn’t do anything to destroy the house, because it was gorgeous and owned by Mike’s friend. The man was kind enough to let Mike stay in it. He hadn’t known it would be compromised by terrorists when he rented it out.

  Now what? She had no idea what the plan was, and honestly, she couldn’t focus on anything except fear for more than a few seconds at a time.

  She tugged her coat around her shoulders and crossed her arms in front of her as if she were chilled to the bone as they headed for the hotel entrance. Mike set his hand on her back to lead her, and the heat of his palm seemed to reach through her coat. Irrational, but it soothed her.

  She hardly paid any attention to whatever he said to the man behind the desk as he secured a room, and then they were in the elevator. “I have nothing,” she mumbled, as if that mattered when she should be grateful she was alive.

  “I know. We’ll get some things. Don’t worry.”

  She pointed at his back pack. “What’s in there? And why did you bring it with us?”

  He hauled it farther up his shoulder. “I don’t go anywhere without at least my backpack. It’s rare for me to even leave it in the car. I hate that I was complacent enough to have done that. But I’m glad I grabbed it from the house.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out as they stepped out of the elevator.

  He gave her a wry smile. “Mostly you don’t want to know. Weapons. Money. Important stuff like that.”

  “So no toothbrushes? Shampoo? Important stuff like that?” She tried to mimic him as if the two lists were similar. And she tried to sound humorous.

  He chuckled. “No. Sorry.” His hand again at the small of her back, he led her to the room and opened the door.

  Instant heat hit her in the face. It was too hot in the room. But under the circumstances, she was so cold, it felt welcome. She kicked off her heels, shrugged out of her coat, and draped it over the back of a chair while Mike turned the deadbolt and slid the chain through its channel.

  Without a word, he reached for the thermostat to adjust it next. And then he passed her up to drag the blinds closed, dropped his own jacket on top of hers, and came to her. The look on his face made her unravel. She pursed her lips to hold her emotions in an attempt to prevent tears of stress from falling. “Shit,” she muttered against his chest as he tugged her in for a hug.

  He threaded one hand into her hair, set the other on the bare skin of her back, and stroked her gently. “We’re safe now.”

  “Are we?” she asked his dress shirt. It didn’t seem like she was safe. In fact, it seemed like she hadn’t been safe for a long time. She’d been in denial.

  “Shh. Baby, we are. Trust me. No one followed us here. We won’t stay more than the night, but you can relax for now.”

  She nodded against him, words no longer possible. After an intense hour in the car with her mind wandering to every possible and impossible scenario, she felt wrung out.

  Mike continued to hold her, rocking her gently in his embrace.

  She slowly relaxed, turning her face to one side so that her cheek rested on his firm pecs. There was one bed in the room. King-size. Maybe in another time or place she would have cared about that arrangement but not in t
his new world. No way would she want to sleep any place but in his arms.

  He wouldn’t balk at the idea, would he?

  She took a deep breath, and Mike slid his hands to her face to cup her cheeks and tip her head back. “Better?”

  “Yeah.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Sorry. My bad. I forgot to mention someone was bringing us a few necessities.”

  “Ah.” She hated the loss the second he released her to head for the door. As if still chilled, she crossed her arms and shuddered while he looked through the peephole and then opened the door to take a bag of items from housekeeping.

  After securing them inside again, he turned around. “Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. Razors. Comb. Maybe not everything you’d normally use, but better than nothing.” He reached into the tiny bathroom and set the stash on the counter. And then he was back. His brow furrowed.

  She took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay.” She forced herself to straighten to her full height and pulled her shoulders back. She didn’t drop her arms, but it was all she could do.

  He set his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze. “What can I do?”

  “Honestly?”

  He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Of course.”

  The world was upside down. Her entire existence was precarious. She was trapped in a small hotel room with the only man she’d ever loved. She didn’t have the first clue why he let her walk away all those years ago, but at the moment, she also didn’t care.

  Her attraction to him hadn’t lessened with time. And it would appear he still desired her also. So, what did she need? She needed the connection she knew they still shared.

  “I need you to make love to me.” She’d been open about sex even at seventeen. He had also turned her down repeatedly at that time. If he did so now, she might actually come undone.

  They were grown adults, not kids. She wasn’t a virgin. Her father didn’t rule her life any longer. They weren’t strangers.

  And yet, he didn’t respond in a way she wanted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She groaned. Her shoulders fell, and she wiggled out of his grasp. “Seriously? What are you? Twelve?” She ducked around him to get to the bathroom, where at least she wouldn’t have to look at him.