An Unconditional Surrender (In Love and War Anthology) Page 3

  “Well? I had to beg for that scrap of cloth. May I have it back…or do you plan on making me beg too, master?” She’d never know where she found the nerve to casually rake her hair behind her shoulders, much less stand there as her nipples puckered beneath his dark, riveted stare, but it worked.

  The unflappable Jack Gage actually blushed. He stunned her again by peeling off the T-shirt to his camouflage fatigues, thrusting it into her hands as he spun away to lock the door. She wasn’t about to turn it down. She donned the shirt in two seconds, disconcerted to discover Jack’s lingering warmth and subtle musk had enveloped her as well. At least the differences in their heights allowed the hem of his shirt to skirt the upper portion of her suddenly pathetically weak thighs. Now if she could just scrounge up a pair of—

  “Here.”

  Dani snatched the ball of gray from mid-air, donning the running shorts as Jack crossed the room to switch on a small AM radio. As luck would have it, one of Sarajevo’s more modern and erotic sevdalinkas filled the room as he stepped away from the dresser. The folk song’s refrain of unrequited passion grated across her nerves as Jack turned to stuff a spare uniform into the duffel bag at the foot of the bed. A twin bed. Great.

  Could this case get any worse?

  She should have known better than to ask. Definitely not before she risked her first real look at Jack since he’d strolled into that kitchen half an hour ago. Eleven months might have passed since she’d located her spine, locked it into place and walked out on this man, but he hadn’t changed a bit. He was still as gorgeous as ever. Jack’s thick black hair was still cropped on the army-long side, lightly tapered at the sides and back of his head. The morning-after scruff covering his strong cheeks and square jaw added just the right touch of rogue his singleton Delta assignments usually required. And his body…

  Despite her attempts to prevent it, her breath bled out. Without his T-shirt, it was toe-curlingly obvious every inch of Jack’s torso was still honed to perfection. He closed the duffel and straightened. She heeded the warning, bracing herself as Jack turned and caught her gaze. It was a good call. Damned if his eyes didn’t still remind her of deep molasses. And damned if they didn’t still have the power to suck her right in, to make her wish she could spend her entire life right here, just like this, lost in this dark, sweet craving.

  But the longer Jack’s densely lashed gaze held hers, the more she was forced to admit the preceding months had wrought changes in him. There were fine lines at the corners of his eyes now, as well as beside his lips. Last winter, when Jack had turned thirty-one, his temples hadn’t contained a hint of silver. They did now. But there was something else too, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever it was, it was consuming him. She was certain of that when he stepped forward, then faltered to a halt.

  She stiffened as it slammed into her. Fear. Jack was afraid of something. Had something happened after she left the kitchen? Lina. Or was it one of the other girls? Apprehension surged into panic as he took another step, then stopped.

  “Dani?”

  She swallowed carefully. “Yes?”

  “Did they—” He broke off and this time, he swallowed. Hard. “Were you—” She swore she could feel him choking on the rest. On the terror. He reached out and trailed his thumb down her cheek, the pain in his eyes deepening to agony as he reached the marks Youssef had left on her neck. She knew what he was trying to ask, what he needed to know. He closed his eyes. This time, he didn’t even attempt to voice the words. But she could hear them. His heart was screaming them.

  Had she been raped?

  “No.”

  His lashes flew open.

  She stared into the shock and the disbelief—the blinding hope—and reached up to squeeze the hand still cupping the curve of her neck. “I swear, no one touched me. Not like that.”

  “How? Why?” For the second time in over a decade, Captain Cool flushed. Amazing. He cleared his throat. “I don’t understand. I know these men. You’re not as young as Rurik and Youssef prefer, but you’re not—”

  “—exactly a sagging hag, either?” The sarcasm dripped out before she could stop it. Regret slapped into her as the tide spreading up his neck deepened to scarlet. She had no right to throw what had transpired in that kitchen in his face. She’d worked undercover long enough to realize Jack had had to establish up front he was as much of an asshole as the rest of Rurik’s goons. It was the only way to protect both their covers. If she was lucky, it would also protect her from Youssef’s rutting interest. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I realize how you’ve scripted this—us—and so far, it’s working.”

  Especially that kiss. Rurik had to have bought it. She had. That was the problem. Eleven months and one hell of a betrayal later, and Jack still had the power to affect her. Fortunately, there’d been enough adrenaline flowing through both their veins at the time for her to blame a hundred kisses on.

  “Dani, I—”

  She stiffened as he reached for her, deliberately ignoring the hurt washing into those dark pools as she quickly stepped out of his reach. She covered her body’s infuriating need to crawl right back into those rock-solid arms with a shrug. “Really, I’m fine. Other than the fact that my cheek still hurts and my neck—” Just like that, the desperation ripped in. The sudden, overwhelmingly primal need for air. She closed her eyes instinctively, dragging her breath in slow and deep as she struggled to convince herself that she still could. Through the entire agonizing draw, she could still feel Youssef’s thumbs clamping down on her windpipe, still see the bastard’s satanic grin as he squeezed off what he’d hoped was her final breath. It was the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

  She opened her eyes as Jack growled.

  “I swear, I’ll kill that son-of-a-bitch if he so much as touches you again.” The fury throbbing within his voice was dangerous. Almost as dangerous as that kiss had been. It seduced her. Promised an unconditional love and support that would never be there. Not for her. Not from him. She’d discovered that the hard way. But at least the memory of the shame had succeeded in erasing the terror of this morning.

  “Yeah, well. Take a number.” She took another step, increasing the distance between them along with her resolve as she forced a smile. Pleased with the result, she even managed a shrug. “At least you bought me before the jerk made good on his promise to complete the job. Daddy should be thrilled. Hell, he might even put you up for another medal.”

  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Denial? Anger? After all, she’d never confronted Jack or her father about what she’d overheard. Frankly, she’d been too ashamed. But what she hadn’t expected was this pregnant silence. Even through the final, lingering notes of a Kalesijski Svuci ballad, she could hear it. Oh, God. Had something happened to her dad? “Jack…what’s wrong?”

  “Your father. He doesn’t know you’re missing. As far as I know, no one at SOCOM does.”

  She sucked in her breath as the panic crashed in. It didn’t make sense. Her father wasn’t some dime-a-dozen Pentagon general. He was the Special Operations Command’s commanding general. If her father didn’t know she was missing, who the hell did? How had Jack even known where to look for her? She reversed her progress, closing the distance to ensure their conversation stayed beneath the grating folk song that kicked in next. “I don’t understand. I thought that’s why you were here—to track me down when my transmitter didn’t go live.”

  “Nope. But I did send a text message to my own contact though my cell phone when Rurik headed downstairs to settle a scuffle between his men, just in case. Hamid’s a Bosnian foreign service national investigator. He’s a good man. I dealt with him in Mostar after the war. Hamid’s probably already passed the update to your commander. You still with Executive Support?”

  Bemused, she grabbed the set of dog tags off his duffel as she nodded. They matched the fictitious Sgt. Jackson.

  “Good. That’ll make it easier to consolidate our backup.” />
  “Fine by me.” The cell phone Jack carried was bound to be encrypted. It wouldn’t even arouse suspicion. A shady artillery sergeant with a secure phone in his possession and a 9 mm Beretta strapped to his hip was one thing; an International Red Cross worker with either was another. But if Jack hadn’t been sent in after her, what was he even doing back in Bosnia?

  As he had more than a few times during the husband-and-wife murder-for-hire case they’d worked together in the States eleven months earlier, Jack read her mind. “Weapons.”

  Damn. “Rurik’s buying?”

  He nodded. “Word on the street is the man’s attempting to coordinate an all-out attack on the U.S. embassy in Sarajevo. Unfortunately, he hasn’t ordered anything yet. When he does, I’ll have a better idea of what he’s already got. Together with his wish list, we should gain some insight into his plans.”

  Dani sucked in her breath. This was big. Very big. And very dangerous. No wonder her father had sent Jack. It didn’t matter if the man was disarming a bomb with five seconds left on the clock or stalking his way through the sleazy underbelly of the terrorist world that thrived on constructing them, Jack Gage was always cool. Always in control. She might have spilled half that bucket of water when she’d spotted him in the kitchen, but what she’d lost in liquid, she’d gained in hope. With Jack on the job, she was all but on her way back to Ft. Bragg.

  The bucket. The water well. She fused her stare to Jack’s. “The barn.” Like Rurik’s plans, it was huge. Large enough to hold a tank if need be—or worse. And it was under armed guard.

  He nodded. “I know. I saw the patrol on the way into the house. Did you get a look inside?”

  “No. But I might be able to the next time I’m sent for water. Maybe in the morning.” Zorah had already informed her that as Sgt. Jackson’s personal slave, Dani was expected to serve his every desire from tonight on. That meant she didn’t dare leave the room until sunrise at least. Not with every man waiting to see how long Jack would keep her abed. Among this rutting crowd, if she left the room early, it would be a direct reflection on Jack’s manhood. From the way Jack had shifted his stare from the claustrophobic twin bed to the blaring radio, she knew he was thinking the same thing. He was also remembering.

  Another bed, another night. Two exceptionally eager lovers. They hadn’t parted until dawn then, either. Both of them exhausted from lack of sleep and four hours of near-constant exertion. The alarm had startled them out of the latest leg of their erotic marathon, forcing them to bring the night to a mind- and body-shattering end. A quick, mutual shower ensued, followed by what had to be a record donning of camouflage BDUs for both, then a soul-searing kiss at her car door—seconds before he’d promised a replacement for the makeshift meal they’d forgone as well as the now that we admit we’re attracted to one another, where do we go from here? conversation that should have followed.

  If it had, they might have been able to save themselves the awkward tension pulsing between them now.

  He cleared his throat. The terse, familiar sound snapped her back to the utter humiliation that had come after that steamy night. She turned, pacing the length of the tiny room even though she knew she’d be forced to turn around when she reached the door and head back to the bed. Back to Jack. She filled her lungs with air blessedly devoid of his unique musk and slowly retraced her steps until she reached the side of the bed. Despite their painful past, they had the present to deal with.

  Rurik. For Jack’s undercover mission, as well as hers.

  “I’m working the M.A.S.H. case. Two female sergeants from the 42nd Field Hospital disappeared a week ago. They’d been assigned to NATO for almost eight months. For the last six, the sergeants had taken to volunteering at a women’s health clinic in Sarajevo. The last time anyone saw them, it was dusk. They were en route to their barracks from the clinic on foot.”

  His brow shot up. “At night? Not smart.”

  She shrugged.

  “What about you?”

  “Apparently not so smart either.”

  He grabbed her hand. “You went out alone at night in Sarajevo?” He would think the worst, wouldn’t he?

  She jerked her fingers from his and stepped away, anxious to reclaim the distance she’d yielded. “I said not so smart—I didn’t say stupid.” Then again, maybe he and her father were right. She shoved Lina’s sobbing from her head and skirted Jack’s imposing torso, wrapping the metal chain to his dog tags around her left hand as she sank on to the mattress. “My cover’s with the International Red Cross. I stopped by the clinic yesterday on my day off and told the staff I wanted to help. Everyone seemed so sincerely committed to helping the women regain their dignity that by evening, I was reconsidering my initial suspicion that someone on staff was involved in the sergeants’ disappearance. Until it was time to go.”

  The mattress sagged as Jack added his weight. “What happened?”

  “Everyone pitched in, cleaning the exam rooms for the next day. By the time I finished, I was exhausted. I walked out with two locals without my purse.” Okay, so she was stupid. She’d also been subsisting on a thirty-six-hour jet lag followed by twelve hours of manual labor. Still, she should have known better. The screw-up had cost her. But not as much as she’d cost someone else. “A couple blocks away, one of the nurses noticed. They waited while I headed back. But when I rounded the last corner, Youssef slammed his fist into my jaw. Before I could recover, he’d stabbed a needle into my arm. That’s the last I remember.” Until she’d woken to Lina’s sobbing.

  Jack shook his head. “I don’t understand. If Youssef struck you, how do you know someone on staff’s involved? Anyone could have injected you with that needle.”

  “I recognized one of the girls from the clinic. She was treated a good six hours before I was kidnapped, yet we both ended up here.” Dani sighed. When she’d woken on the floor that morning she’d noticed her watch missing, so she’d decided to make a move for the emergency transmitter hidden in her shoe—until Lina’s struggle with Youssef changed her mind. In her lingering, drug-induced fog, she decided to take Youssef on instead. She’d never get those moments back now. She’d never know whether tripping the signal as she was supposed to would have made a difference. Would backup have arrived in time?

  Dammit, don’t. She’d been so out of it, she’d been little more than a punching bag herself. There was no way of knowing if she’d even have been able to trip the transmitter.

  But she hadn’t even tried, had she?

  “Dani?”

  She stiffened. Not from Jack’s touch on her arm, from the note in his voice. Like his fury toward Rurik on her behalf, his concern for her was far too seductive. She didn’t doubt it was real. It just hadn’t been enough. It still wasn’t.

  “I’m fine.” She shifted from his touch, dragging in her breath as she tried to ignore the hurt in his dark eyes. All she succeeded in doing was filling her lungs with his scent. Lord, did she have it bad! Less than an hour in Jack’s company and here she was, wanting him again. She couldn’t help it. For the first time in almost a year, Jack was in the same room as her, close enough to touch—even if he was staring at her as if he was afraid she was about to break. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she needed to know. Unfortunately, not a single question crowding her heart concerned their respective missions. They had to do with him. With them.

  Had he missed her? Had he wondered where she’d spent this past Christmas—and, more importantly, the day after? Or had Jack already found someone else to celebrate his birthday with by then? Had he been too busy torching those dark-blue sheets of his with her replacement to even care that she’d kept her vow?

  The lack of oxygen from Youssef’s attempted strangulation must have affected her brain. Either that or her guilt over Lina’s death had affected her heart. Because she finally raised her head and stared directly into that dark, simmering gaze. Before she realized her intent, she opened her mouth and asked the one question s
he’d sworn she wouldn’t ask.

  “How’s my dad?”

  Chapter 3

  S he didn’t know.

  Jack stiffened as the realization socked in. He searched Dani’s gaze, praying he’d misheard. But when those soft blue eyes darkened to damp, pleading smoke, he knew he hadn’t. Dani had no idea that after she’d walked out on him eleven months ago, he’d finally scraped up the nerve to swallow that goddamned choking case of gratitude and do what he should have done years before. He’d walked out on her father.

  It might have taken all his hopes and his dreams crashing down for him to realize she’d been right that last night they’d seen each other, but eventually, he’d accepted the truth. He had been standing between Dani and her father—for ten long years. Whether he’d wanted to be there or not. And now, incredibly, almost another full year later, half a blessed globe away, he was still standing between General Stanton and his daughter. The irony of it would have bitten him in the ass.

  If it wasn’t already ripping through his chest.

  “Jack?”

  He swung his gaze to hers, the ache deepening as he watched the fear seep into her eyes. He’d do anything to erase it, he knew that now. Even lie. “Your dad’s fine.” He waited until the fear began to ebb, then changed the subject before she could question him further and he was forced to compound his lie. Now was not the time to come clean about her dad. And this sure as hell wasn’t the place. “How was it supposed to go down?”

  She blinked at the sudden shift.

  “Your kidnapping case? I’m assuming you had a plan. One my presence in that kitchen interfered with?”

  Her gaze cleared. “Yes. My watch contained my tracking device. Unfortunately, it was missing when I woke this morning. I have no idea who took it, or when.”

  “Maybe one of the other girls—”

  “No.”

  For a split second, her vehemence startled him—until he recalled the mottled bruises on the other girls’ faces. She was right. Those girls had had more to worry about lately than petty theft. He was about to confirm her assessment when he noticed the sudden glistening in Dani’s gaze. Her stark, distant gaze.