Cavanaugh's Secret Delivery Read online

  That’s when she leaned into the leather of the couch and closed her eyes, trying to get her emotions back under control. This man was taken, so taken. Not that it would have done her any good if he wasn’t.

  After that, she lay down and fell asleep until something woke her up. Maybe it was the eerie silence that registered when she opened her eyes, no crowd noise at all. Even the constant bashing from the sledgehammers destroying computers, equipment and anything useful that could be beneficial to the enemy was silent.

  She looked to find Austin beside the window, and she wondered when he’d last slept. “Sergeant Beck?” He turned his head and maybe it was the sound of her voice, but he took two strides to the couch and crouched down. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing right now. Go back to sleep.” The light from the moon illuminated his face. “Please don’t lie to me to spare my feelings. I’m sure Robert told you to keep me wrapped up in cotton wool.”

  “Silk, actually.”

  “Oh, man.” She blinked a few times and sighed. “Just tell me.”

  “They’re resting. I think they’re done waiting.” He rose, his body tense.

  “The choppers?”

  “On their way. As soon as they get here, we’re moving out. I wanted you to sleep as long as you could.”

  He went to move back to the window, but she stood and set her hand on his forearm. “I can’t sleep now. Why don’t you get some rest? Even twenty minutes will help.”

  He looked at her for a moment. “I’ll keep watch. I’ll wake you if something happens.”

  He nodded, removed his helmet, propped his rifle against the desk and lay down on the couch.

  Restless after a half an hour of staring out at the quiet, milling crowd now stretched out as far as the eye could see, she turned from the window and walked over to the sofa. He was on his back, the throw had slipped off his shoulders, and she knelt down, pulling it up. His warm hand clasped around her wrist. She froze, her gaze going to his face. His eyes were open, watchful. “I’m going to miss seeing you, Jenna,” he said, his voice whiskey soft.

  His tone set off a reaction in her that only made her lean forward. She closed her eyes, trying to corral her feelings. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” she whispered.

  He rose and she backed away. “I know.” His tone was unapologetic. He stepped closer to her, then cupped her jaw and turned her face toward him, his expression unsmiling, his eyes dark and intent.

  “Where will you be going?” She felt desperate and everything inside her rebelled at saying goodbye to this man.

  “Wherever they tell me to, Jenna. I belong to the marines.” He smiled at her and her heart flipped over. Held immobile by the intimacy of his touch, she stared at him, her gut rolling into a ball of dread. She had to say goodbye.

  “Give me something to remember,” he said, his voice gruff and very low.

  That request did unbearable things to her heart, and she breathed around the fullness in her chest.

  Feeling as if she was losing her mind, paralyzed by his touch and his request, she surrendered to the desperate moment as if these precious minutes were carved out of time. He tipped her face up and Jenna made a helpless, lost sound as he slowly lowered his head.

  He pressed his lips to hers lightly at first, but the initial contact with her mouth made him stop and his eyes pop open, a dazed, oh-my-God look in them. Then his mouth took hers in a kiss that agitated every cell. Right or wrong evaporated and everything receded.

  He worked his mouth hungrily against hers, drawing her hips even closer. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her mouth responded, pliant against his moist and so-damn-hot lips, as a thousand sensations shot through her.

  Something new was awakening in her, something that she had never experienced before—this...this was passion.

  He caught her hips and molded her flush against him, his mouth wide and hot. The feel of him drove the breath right out of her, and she made another helpless sound against his mouth. Austin tightened his arm around her back and dragged his mouth away, his breathing labored. Her heart racing and her pulse thick and heavy, she turned her face against his neck, the warmth of his touch filling her with a heavy weakness, her whole body trembling.

  She was trying to process why this felt so good. Was it the danger they were in? Was it because it was the forbidden? Did she just need comfort from the fear? Why did this feel more real than her marriage?

  Unable to step away from his body, her breath jamming in her chest, she clutched at him. His breathing ragged, he held on to her. He roughly whispered her name and found her mouth again. She lost a whole piece of reality when he caught her hair and twisted her head back, covering her mouth with a kiss that told her he wanted more. She cried out, her voice muffled against his lips. Adjusting the fit of his mouth against hers, he absorbed the sound, running his hands up her rib cage.

  The emergency alarm blared across the compound and they froze, broke apart. The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire galvanized her. Chests heaving, they stared into each other’s eyes. For a millisecond, there was regret, pain, longing, fear and desperation in his, which she was sure were mirrored in her own.

  Then Austin moved, snatched up his helmet, jamming it on and fastening the chin strap. Then he reached for his rifle. Someone was shouting, the sound of his voice audible through the headset. The sudden rumble outside sent her stomach dropping to her shoes, and she gave Austin a terrified look, her heart suddenly lurching.

  “They’re breaking through. We’ve got to bug out.” He grasped her arm.

  “Safe haven?”

  “No, hear that?” Relief in his voice, he started moving toward the door. “Blackhawks.”

  She heard the powerful whop, whop, whop of the blades mixed with the roar of a crowd that was out for blood, the automatic gunfire unending. They must have heard the choppers, too, and had no intention of letting the Americans get away. Both sounds were getting stronger and louder.

  Phones were ringing everywhere and gunfire erupted close, the sound of the crowd surging. Explosions ignited, dulled booms in the room, a fireball flaring up right outside the window. They were blowing up the compound, breaching the front doors.

  He took her through the adjoining door, and they stepped out into pandemonium. The barrier was rocking as people were pouring out of the offices all along the hallway, rushing up the stairs in a blind panic. Then pop, pop, pop flashes behind the barricade, the sound of whizzing, some people dropping to the floor amid screams and panic.

  The fact had no sooner registered than a steely arm wrapped itself around her waist. Before she could take a breath or even register the depth of her alarm, Austin pressed her up against the wall—pressed hard, his whole body flat against her back, immobilizing her.

  Adrenaline washed into her veins on a river of stark, icy terror.

  “I’m going to take you up, then I’m coming back down.” His voice was soft, gravelly and very close to her ear, his breath blowing across her skin as he spoke. “Do you copy?” She had to focus on him, focus on her breathing and slow it down.

  She managed a sharp, terrified nod.

  “Good. Don’t stop for anything.”

  It was so darn hard to control her fear. Her heart was racing, totally at odds with the slow, steady beat of his. She could feel it against her back. She was frightened, but he wasn’t. He was calm, breathing normally, holding her. She felt shrink-wrapped between his body and the wall.

  He released her, turned her toward escape and the waiting choppers. They were caught up in the press of humanity running up the stairs at a breakneck speed. They burst onto the roof, the sky full of helicopters, lights brightly illuminating everything. The screams and shouts of both the civilians and military personnel rushed around her like a chaotic, disorienting merry-go-round. She saw her husband being hustled toward the first helicopter t
o land. People poured in after him and shortly after that, it lifted off.

  Her heart sank. He never even looked back. Never even tried to find her.

  Austin set her inside the chopper. “Stay here.” He grabbed a headset and bellowed, “There are wounded. Do not lift off until I return.” He listened, then shouted, “Ten minutes! Roger that!”

  He ripped off the headset, and then he was gone. She heard the sound of automatic weapons and then minutes later Austin was back. He was carrying two women, one over each shoulder. One of the crew leaned past her and took the wounded, crying and hysterical women into the chopper.

  “Everyone’s out,” he said, but his voice was weaker. Then she saw the blood on his uniform and he stumbled, grasping his shoulder.

  The crew member grabbed him and hauled him into the vehicle, straight across her lap, as the protesters burst onto the roof. The chopper lifted off with a whirring, deafening roar as the crowd discharged its weapons, but the guns of the chopper held them back as they ran toward the safety of the building. Austin’s gasp of pain brought her eyes to his. She unsnapped his helmet and eased it off, cradling his head, his hair soft against her fingers.

  Blood, stark red against her shirt, galvanized her. Pressing both palms over his wound, his blood was warm and wet against her fingers.

  Their eyes met again and locked as time twisted out into a slow-motion kind of free fall. The look in his said more than words could ever express. It was a longing that sucked at her very soul. She managed a shaky breath, her chest suddenly aching. She couldn’t feel this way, this intensely, about a man she’d just met. But parting from him seemed impossible, and Lord, but it hurt. More than anything, more than her next breath, she wanted...him.

  She shivered from all the feelings welling up inside her, and she opened her mouth to speak, to tell him what was in her heart, but his eyes drifted closed.

  Copyright © 2018 by Karen Alarie

  ISBN-13: 9781488093098

  Cavanaugh’s Secret Delivery

  Copyright © 2018 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com