In memory of those who can never come home.

The warriors, the men and women whose courage and determination, whose loyalty and dedication to their country demanded the ultimate sacrifice.

My prayers for your loved ones, your wives, parents, children and friends are whispered nightly. My dream that your sacrifice was not in vain, is an ever present thought.

Your blood was precious, your laughter is missed, and your dreams though not realized, will never be forgotten.

You are the ultimate hero, and your precious light will shine forever in the minds, the hearts, and the freedoms you have provided for us.

May Heaven hold you in its embrace, as we shall always hold you in our hearts.

Lora Leigh

Special thanks

To Lisa Cesa, thanks for all the help and advice. It’s not always easy to find someone willing to give their time and friendship as you have, and it’s greatly appreciated.

Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Sug. I’ve missed you more than you know, and having you in my life once again is a gift I’ll never forget.

And to Bret. You’re growing up too fast, becoming a man too soon. But my pride and joy in you knows no bounds. Thanks for understanding, for supporting, and most of all, just for being you.

Contents

Prologue

Prologue

She was a vision of beauty.

Too fucking young, but her eyes weren’t those of a twenty-two-year-old. They were the eyes of a woman who had seen too much, who had known too much danger, too much pain.

Jordan watched as she went through the strenuous training maneuvers the Elite Operations backup team was putting her through and wondered how the hell he was going to say no to her.

She wasn’t strong enough to match the Elite Operations agents in physical strength or endurance, but she was more than a match for them in speed and ingenuity.

“She has no place to go, Jordan. She’s spent her life running from her father and her brother. She doesn’t have the education or the job skills to step out of this life. This is all she has.” Kira Richards stood beside him, the former CIA asset somber, persuasive as she attempted to smooth over the anger Jordan knew he wasn’t hiding.

He’d arrived at the training facility to check the status of his nephew, now known as Noah Blake, as well as the other operatives that were a part of his Elite Operations command. He hadn’t expected to find this tiny, sprite of a woman with masses of red hair, haunted green eyes and a too sad face sparring with the nephew in question.

“Elite Operations isn’t an orphanage, Kira,” he reminded her, careful to keep his tone cold, emotionless.

He couldn’t show the chink he knew this young woman had put in his defenses the first time he had met her two years before in Aruba during the Diego Fuentes operation. The operation involving Kira’s now husband, Ian, and his father Diego Fuentes, had been rife with danger. And there the girl had been, desperate to end the life of death and misery her father had waged to find her for nearly twenty years.

Her eyes had been shattered then, filled with desperation and fear that the plot to bring down the terrorist, Sorrell, wouldn’t succeed.

But she had been game. She’d thrown everything she had into revealing the identity of the man who had destroyed her mother and who had tried to destroy her.

“Elite Operations isn’t an orphanage, but we owe her,” Kira reminded him forcefully. “You know we do. Besides, she would be perfect in base operations. She knows communications, she knows how to organize things. Give her a chance.”

He glanced at the woman at his side. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Make it happen. That was what she was saying. Just make it happen.

“You’re a contract asset for the Ops, Kira,” he reminded her. “This isn’t your decision to make. Nor is it up to those men out there.” He waved his hand at the training room viewed through the two way mirror he stood behind.

“The whole team has more or less adopted her, Jordan,” she informed him. “You can’t get out of this. If you don’t take her, then the backup team will.”

He grimaced.

Hell, he had very little control over the Elite backup team. He couldn’t order Reno or Clint to do shit and he knew it. But he owed them, and he knew that as well. Just as he knew that working with them would be a damned sight more dangerous than being confined to the Elite Operations base would be. “She would fit in perfectly as your personal assistant as well as mine in communications,” Kira went on to say. “We’ve been in operation long enough that you know we need someone to fill the spot. She would be perfect for it.”

She would be perfect to make him crazy, that was what he knew. The few times he had been in contact with her, his blood pressure had nearly gone through the damned roof, and his cock had nearly burst from his jeans.

The need to fuck her had been so damned overwhelming that for the first time in years Jordan had considered breaking his own rule. Never fuck nor become close to his female operatives.

Losing one of them posed the risk of too much distraction. It was a distraction he could ill afford when the lives of the entire team depended on his ability to think straight.

She was eight years younger than he was, she was looking for a life, for a battle to replace the one she had fought for so many years. The battle to bring her terrorist father to justice. But he knew the dangers of not letting her in, the danger to her, and that terrified him.

Sorrel’s allies would find her and exact vengeance for the terrorist and white slavers death. The thought of the hell they would put her through before they killed her was enough to give him nightmares.

He knew the risk to himself as well as the team in letting her become involved. She was young, she had no official training, other than what she had received in her desperation to survive over the years. She was an impulsive redhead, and she was weakness.

“She’s not Catherine, Jordan. She’s not a field agent, and she has no desire to be one.”

And of course Kira would know exactly why he didn’t want her there.

Jordan turned away from her. She had known Catherine, though not very well. Hell, they had worked for the same damned agency in the same line of work. Except Catherine hadn’t survived it, because of him. Because he hadn’t been able to protect her and the unborn child she and her husband had dreamed of having. Because she had been a close friend, and when she had placed herself in a situation he hadn’t been prepared, he’d dropped the ball.

“I never said she was Catherine,” he stated coldly. “I said we’re not an orphanage. Bringing her in would be a risk.”

“But you’ll bring her in,” she demanded, but with just enough respect that he couldn’t deny the request out of pride..

Jordan sighed heavily. The knowledge of the debt he owed Kira, her husband Ian, and her Ian’s SEAL team was never lost on him either.

Together, they had saved his nephew, dragged him out of hell and even now, worked to heal the wounds inflicted on Noah’s soul.

Besides that, there was also the fact that they were a working unit now. Elite Operations and its backup team was a cohesive unit and throwing a wrench in the works over their choice of a base member wasn’t in his best interests.

It was the girl in question though, and the risk she posed, not so much to the unit, but to his own self control.

“Bring her in.” He heard his voice harden and he knew that the fact that he didn’t agree with the choice wouldn’t be lost on Kira.

“That’s all I needed.” Satisfaction filled her voice, and when he turned to look at her, he saw the amusement in her soft gray eyes.

“This is a mistake, Kira,” he informed her, knowing the anger was slipping past his careful control.

She stared back at him, her lips quirking as an unholy gleam of wicked laughter sparked in her gaze. “Why? Because you get hard for her? Think of it this way, Jordan, she’ll add a little spice to your life.” Despite the flippancy in her tone, understanding filled her gaze.

“I don’t need spice in my life.”

“Sometimes, that’s exactly what you need to live again,” she said gently. “You’re like Nathan, almost dead inside. Catherine wouldn’t have wanted that for you, and I know Killian doesn’t. She was your friend, Jordan, not your albatross.”

As he watched her walk away he felt the familiar guilt, the knowledge that even Kira didn’t know the truth.

He was the reason Catherine was dead. And he would never let himself forget that. Because of it, he refused to involve himself in the lives of his agents.

He was their commander. He wasn’t their friend.

He turned back to the two-way mirror that provided a view into the training room and watched Tehya again. He had let her into the Ops, but he would never let her into his bed, or into his life.

And he swore he would never let her into his heart.

Six Years Later

“Evenin’ Da.”

Riordan Malone Sr. looked up from the marble gravestone and his silent goodnight, his fingers caressing the sun-warmed stone as though he could reach the woman fate had taken from him so many decades before.

Wild Irish and soft as a summer morn, his Erin had given his life meaning, then she had given him two sons that a man could be proud of.

Courageous, brave, strong sons.

His eldest, Grant, may have been forced to appear less than honorable, less than courageous for a while, but he had done it to protect his own sons and the sacrifices he had made were no less than Rory Sr. would make himself.

His youngest son, however, the one his wee Erin had called her mini-Rory. He was the one Riordan “Rory” Malone Sr. was perhaps the most proud of.

“Jordan.” A smile tugged at Rory’s lips. His son always approached him as though he were never certain of his reception. As though he were unaware of the power of a father’s love.

He watched as Jordan moved across the small cemetery, his long legged, powerful form tall and strong as he walked up to his mother’s grave.

Rory watched as Jordan touched the top of the stone lightly as he had done for so many years. In the gesture, Rory saw things, sensed things he knew his son would never be comfortable with him knowing.

He saw a son’s regret, a man’s aching loneliness, but even harder to see was the flash of weariness. Jordan was growing tired, and that was dangerous for a warrior like him.

“I miss her.” Rory patted the stone gently as he turned his gaze from his son and stared at the marble instead.

She was his talisman, his Erin. She had been his boyhood dream, his teenage love, and finally, she had become his wife. The mother of his sons, the foundation of his soul. She’d made him swear to linger on this earth without her to see to the happiness and safety of her boys. And he’d done as she asked. He had pushed himself through each day with only that purpose in mind.

This son, ahh, but this one, he tested an old man’s strength.

He looked toward Jordan’s truck before bringing his gaze back to his son. “You’ve not brought young Tehya with you then?” he asked.

Jordan’s jaw tightened as it always did whenever Rory asked about the girl. As though Jordan somehow thought that if he didn’t speak of her, then he wouldn’t feel for her.

Rory almost chuckled at the thought, but he doubted his son would appreciate it.

“She’s packing.” There was a snap to Jordan’s voice that had Rory’s brows lifting in surprise.

He nodded. “You told me last month she would be.”

He was saddened to see that team coming to an end. They had given Jordan purpose, Rory had often thought. And their leaving meant young Tehya would be going as well, and that, he feared, might be the breaking point for Jordan.

“I have a few things I have to do after everyone’s off base,” Jordan all but growled. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

Rory shook his head. “Noah and Sabella, they take care of things.” He nodded toward the house. “Those children of theirs may give me gray hair, but I’ll be fine. I was just about to bring the groceries inside.”

He had to grin as he thought of the miniature Nathan, or rather Noah as he was known now. Noah and Sabella’s eldest son was already the image of his Da, though he had enough of his mother’s features to hide the fact he was one hundred percent Malone.

“I’ll get them,” Jordan said before glancing down at the tombstone once more.

Ah, the boy had more than groceries on his mind.

Disappointment lanced him though as, rather than speaking, Jordan turned and walked toward the truck.

Watching, Rory sighed as his son collected several bags and moved into the small cabin beyond.

“Such stubbornness, Erin,” he sighed. “He takes that after you, lass. I was never such a hard-headed man.”

He knew, if she still stood by his side, then she would be rolling her eyes in amused disbelief.

That had been his Erin.

“Ah lass, when will he see?” he asked her softly. “Irish Eyes, he has them. He’ll never be free from her now.”

Only since the red-head had arrived at the Elite Ops base had Jordan gotten that bright sapphire color to his eyes. Irish Eyes.

They revealed more, Rory guessed, than his son would have preferred. And Miss Tehya…well, she was the cause right enough. Rory knew his boys, and he knew their hearts. Just as he knew Jordan’s heart belonged only to that young lass.

Jordan could play the devil till hell froze over, but he couldn’t fool his father. He was suffering from his stubbornness and his denial.

“What do we do now, Erin?” he asked. “How do we save our boy now?”

He’d been asking his wife that question for far too many years.

His fingers stroked over the stone as Jordan returned, his gaze now calm, though icy cold.

Yes, this was how Jordan handled all those pesky emotions he refused to allow himself to deal with. He froze them out.

“I’ve got to head back, Da,” Jordan told him. “Is there anything more you need?”

Rory shook his head slowly. “Is there anything you need, Jordan?”

Jordan’s jaw clenched. “No games today, Da,” he warned him.

Rory chuckled. “I’d like to see the lass before she’s out of our lives forever,” he said. “Once she leaves, Jordan, she’ll never come back without your invitation. I’d like to tell her goodbye.”

Jordan looked away for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. “I’ll let her know,” he promised, and Rory almost grunted mockingly at the promise.

He let his boy get away with it though.

When the truck had sped away, Rory turned back to Erin’s grave.

“Far too much like you, my love,” he whispered again. “Like talking to a brick wall.” He smiled at the memories. “But a fine woman you were Erin.”

And God knew, he missed her.

He missed her until he felt withered, lost without her as he struggled to keep his promise to her.

“Work on him love,” he finally sighed. “Lead him in the right direction.” This time, his fingers clenched on the stone. “I’m ready to come home to ya, Erin. Help me, just this one time.”

He’d never asked it of her before, but he was damned tired.

It had been far too many years since he had seen her, far too many years since he had loved her.

And he was ready to go home.

She was a vision of beauty.

Standing in the dim light of the silent communications room of the Elite Operations Alpha Base in the heart of Big Bend National Park, Tehya Talamosi, looked like a woman awaiting the lover that would fulfill her naughtiest dreams. A lover that had waited far too long, and left her far too lonely if the expression on her face was any indication.

Nothing could be further from the truth, of course. Tehya was awaiting a lover that would fulfill dreams of forever, not simply those of lusty, heated sex. Tehya was a happily-ever-after woman, and he didn’t have happily ever after inside him.

Jordan Malone had accepted that long ago. That acceptance had sent him to the SEALs, and life as a SEAL had taught him that nothing lasted forever, and a man never let himself make friends he couldn’t bear to lose, or to have lovers that he wouldn’t be able to walk away from.

Some rules were broken day by day, but while in the SEALs, those were the rules he had lived by.

As the commander of Elite Operations One, he’d remained true to one rule only. Never let himself get close to his operatives. Only one had been close to him, the nephew he had nearly lost before he’d entered the select, secretive organization.

And he’d almost broken that rule a thousand times over with this woman.

He watched her, the deserted communications room for some odd reason a perfect backdrop for the fact that she was barely dressed.

They were the only two there, and they both knew it. They had known it the moment the last operative left the base earlier that day.

She stood proud in the central cavernous center beneath the metal catwalk he stood on now, staring below, would know she could dress down, dress up, or dress not at all, and no one would know it, but him. If he saw her. And he was supposed to be in his suite, not here, watching her from the shadows.

Not standing here, aching for her, his gut clenched in such need that he felt as though the agony were rocking through him, the denial fucking killing him.

Barefoot, dressed in a black silk gown that went to her ankles, the tiny straps barely holding it over her full breasts. She made him so damned hard his dick felt like iron.

She made him so damned hungry for a taste of her that he actually ached with it. His balls tightened painfully and his cock throbbed in demand. A demand that he go to her, that he touch her, that he take her to his bed and just fuck her. Fuck her until the hellish hunger burning inside him was sated, and the clawing need eased.

Instead, he forced himself to simply stand there, to do no more than watch her.

She stared around the room, her gaze touching on the silent computers, the darkened maps, the blank expanse of screens where satellite images had once been displayed.

And she looked lost. She looked as though she didn’t know where to turn, or where to go now that this part of her life was over.

Elite Operations One was over. The last agent had fulfilled the eight year contract he’d signed. Several had been under twelve year contracts, but they were finished now as well. Five men had gone their own way to live their lives in the sheltering hearts of the women who had ultimately saved them.

And where the hell did that leave him? Where did that leave Tehya?

She had dedicated six years to the Elite Operations. Pulled in at the age of twenty-four because of her contacts overseas, her practical knowledge in communications, and had eventually been given the codename Enigma. She’d been a last minute decision made more by the agents than by Jordan and she had immediately completed a team that hadn’t known they weren’t whole.

If it had been left up to him, she would have never wasted those tender years of her life within this mountain. She wouldn’t have wasted her life staring at computers, or immersing herself in the lives and the missions that had been played out beyond the steel and cement walls surrounding her now.

She should have been living. She should have gone to college, married and had a house full of babies instead of hiding on the secretive, secure base of Elite Operations One.

As he watched her, she pushed her fingers through the long, heavy strands of red-gold hair that fell to her hips. He rarely saw it unbound anymore. For years she’d kept it in a tight plait, or a ponytail.

Had she worn it loose in the past years as she did tonight, then he wondered if he could have kept his hands off her for so damned long.

That hair tempted, it teased, it dared. And Jordan wasn’t a man that could turn his back on a dare.

In the six years she had worked with the Elite Ops, he’d done his best to stay the hell away from her, but he couldn’t deny she had made herself an integral part of the unit.

Tehya was the backbone of the communications center, along with Kira Richards. She had also acted as his personal assistant, and he’d been damned if he could think of anyone who could have fulfilled that job nearly as well.

It was Tehya that kept the files intact, mission information flowing, his coffee hot and plentiful, and his dick spike hard.

It was hard now. His balls tight and throbbing, his muscles tense with the effort to stay the hell away from her, to ignore the silent invitation he saw in her eyes too often.

It was an invitation he wouldn’t see any longer after the sun rose one day. She would be heading out, leaving the base to begin a life of her own. To learn how to simply be Teylor Johnson, a woman that had spent her life working in the back offices of a central database company. One of those nameless, faceless drones that other workers rarely, if ever, saw, but depended upon for the various files and information she was responsible for.

She would be out of his life. And hell if he knew how to handle that thought.

Watching, Jordan’s fingers clenched as she turned, her lush hair moving in a wave of silk, tempting his fingers to tangle in the long, rioting curls.

Those long strands swayed around her then as she slowly shook her head and sighed. A slow, heavy sound of regret before she turned and left the dimly lit room, unaware he watched, unaware of the hunger he allowed to tighten his expression.

There had only been a few times had he ever come truly close to Tehya. She had gone covert with him several times because of her ability to hack her way into any system and her overseas connections. His identity had been that of Jordan “Black Irish” O’Reilly, a white slaver, terrorist, and weapons supplier.

During those brief operations, Tehya had slid so smoothly into the role of Irish’s lover, Enigma, that it had been almost terrifying. Cool, yet flaming hot. A woman of intellect being held against her will to a man that she didn’t know whether to love or to hate. The man who had kidnapped her and trained her as his sex slave until she came to his bed at the age of eighteen.

The story was fiction, but the thought of Tehya in his bed now was enough to make him sweat.

She made him fuck hungry. He lived in a hellacious haze of lust at times, so damned hot for her it was all he could do to keep his cock in his pants.

Fantasies of her, naked, her eyes dazed with lust, her face flushed as he teased, tempted and sated the lust that he knew would explode between both of them. Watching her creamy flesh flush. Seeing her eyes dilate and darken. Hips arching. Pussy saturated with her juices, swollen and clenched tight as he worked his dick inside her.

His nostrils flared at the fantasy he couldn’t ignore, as the heavy steel door below slid open. It closed behind her as she passed through it, heading for the resident suites further up the mountain.

The communications room was the lowest level of the base. Ten stories beneath the mountain above them, heavily secured and completely hidden.

Residential suites were a single story beneath ground level, each set of rooms outfitted with a bedroom, bathroom and small sitting and meal preparation area. The Elite Ops agents were well taken care of. They were the heart and soul of the non-government, non-military, secretive group of undercover operatives. Operatives who were now gone with the exception of himself and Tehya.

Jordan had seen each operative off with a sense of envy that even he couldn’t deny. Despite his determination to remain single. To remain a doting uncle, brother, and son, still, he’d been envious of the lives his men had waiting for them. The wives, the children. The freedom to laugh and to love.

It was a freedom Tehya hadn’t sought out, though each year he had lived in fear of it, wondering if he could let her go when she made the request.

Hell, letting her go now was something he was finding impossible to do. He was the reason she was still here. He had kept her busy, kept her working, ensuring she had been delayed and the last to leave. Ensuring he didn’t have to release his grip on her until the very last possible second before the new team moved in to take over the base.

And why had he kept her there? He’d avoided her this entire, final week. He’d watched her from afar, jacked off at night when the fucking lust was close to breaking his control, and kept telling himself he could let her go.

And still, he was fighting it. Still, he was trying to find ways to hold her here when he knew he had finally run out of time.

Shaking his head at the futility of the hunger tearing at his control, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants and finished his final inspection before leaving himself.

The next morning would see him walking from the base, perhaps for the last time.

He had the option of returning and heading the new team, with the new commander working as his second in command. Killian Reece had no problems with Jordan assuming command of the base and operations as he continued the covert role of Jordan O’Reilly.

It was a decision he had less than a month to make. He could go another twelve years or he could back off, find a place for himself within the world as a civilian and find a life.

The only problem was, he couldn’t imagine life outside this mountain, without Tehya running his life to some extent. Without her tormenting him with her pert smile and sassy as hell comebacks that made his dick harder than hell with the need to fuck her into submission.

Son of a bitch.

He shifted the hardened length of his cock as he stepped into the elevator at the end of the steel and iron walkway and pushed the button for the residential level. The thought of her leaving had that need ripping through him with a force that damned near cramped his dick. His had the urge to go to her, to jerk her to him, lift her, wrap those incredible legs around his hips and pound into her.

She would walk out those doors when morning came and he intended to ensure he never crossed her path again. But God help him, would he make it through the night without pouring himself into her?

He doubted it.

He had every intention of going straight to his own suite, he assured himself. Every intention of ensuring he didn’t tempt himself further where Tehya was concerned.

Instead, he found himself at her door. Dick hard, pulse pounding, his body tense, unrelenting in the pure addictive-like hunger pouring through his body.

He hadn’t told her goodbye. It would hurt her if he didn’t say something before she left in the morning. He couldn’t do that to her.

He couldn’t do it to himself.

Pressing his finger to the button that would announce his presence he waited. Rather than her voice coming over the small intercom, the metal door slid open instead.

And there she stood.

The black silk flowed over her full breasts. The long red-gold hair spilled around the creamy perfection of her face.

She was thirty years old, but she barely looked twenty-five.

Vivid emerald green eyes watched him warily, but the nipples beneath that silk hardened, peaked and pressed against the material as though reaching for the hungry depths of his mouth.

Damn, he should have gone straight to his own suite. He should have never stopped.

He was going to do exactly what he had told himself he wouldn’t do.

He was going to fuck her.

“Jordan.” His name was a caress on her lips. The soft, sultry sound was filled with an aching huskiness, a question, a hint of hope.

“Are you packed?”

That wasn’t what he wanted to say. He wanted to reach out and rip that damned gown off her body, push her back into the room and thrust into the sweet, hot depths of her pussy.

Damn, she would be tight. She hadn’t had a lover in the six years she had been with the unit. He knew she hadn’t. He’d kept such close surveillance on her that he would have known the second she would have so much as entertained the thought.

She’d given her life to the Elite Operations, and what did she have to show for it? She had no family, no friends, no connections or roots. He was throwing her to the wolves.

“I’m packing,” she finally answered as she turned away, but not before he caught the flash of hurt in her eyes. “Is that all you wanted?”

Hell, no it wasn’t all he wanted.

A soft, supple leather covered the couch and recliner that faced the wall-mounted combination television/computer screen. A small lap table sat at one end of the couch, the wireless keyboard and computer accessories aimed for the screen.

A colorful western throw was laid over the back of the couch. A cup of tea sat on the coffee table, still steaming as she moved back to it.

A bookshelf filled with books covered one wall. Interspersed with the books were small figurines she’d been given over the years for Christmas or her birthday. Tiny, collectible dragons. Pocket dragons she called them.

She hadn’t packed them. The books were still on the shelves, boxes in front of them with only a few books enclosed.

“You have a ways to go,” he said as he looked around.

The room was incredibly neat. Even the packed boxes were stacked in neat little piles awaiting morning and the team that would load her belongings and transport them to the storage facility she had requested they be taken to.

“I’ll be ready on time.” She shrugged.

Those wild green eyes flicked over him, making his cock harder, reminding him of all the things he couldn’t have. All the things he refused to allow himself to have.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t have her. He could, and God knew he wanted her until his body felt on fire from the need. But he knew he would only end up destroying both of them if he took her, if he allowed the dominant possessiveness that rode him, free.

“What do you want, Jordan?” she finally asked as she sat down on the couch, one leg tucked beneath the other as she wedged herself into the corner of the cushions. “You’re standing there as though you should be doing something? There’s nothing left to do anymore.” And the regret she felt echoed through his entire being.

No, there wasn’t.

He felt his jaw tighten as he fought back the need to go to her, to push her back along the leather cushions as he came over her.

Five seconds, he thought. He could have her laid on the couch, that piece of nothing gown she wore pushed to her hips and his dick buried between those luscious thighs in less than five seconds.

And he would be making the biggest mistake of his life.

She was, essentially, a co-worker. He was her superior, even though the Ops were, for the moment, disbanded. She was a woman that needed more than he could give her, more than he could allow himself to give any woman.

“Jordan, if you don’t stop standing there staring at me as though you’re ready to strangle me, then I just may begin to worry.”

She didn’t sound in the least worried. She sounded irritated, restless, a bit frustrated. But worried wasn’t in there.

“Do you need help packing?” he finally asked.

He wasn’t ready to walk away. Come dawn, the transport detail would be here to load her belongings and ship them out. She would be following behind in whichever of the expensive, fast little sports cars was still parked in the base garage. He’d given her a choice of the vehicles, where he hadn’t made the offer to the other members of the unit.

“I don’t need help packing.” There was a snap to her voice now, a sense of impatience and frustration that threatened to light a fuse to his already short temper.

“You’ll leave it to the last damned minute and have the transport detail packing boxes and running late while you bark out orders,” he ground out as that frustration began to eat at him, to get the better of him. “Dammit, Tehya, they’re on a schedule.”

“As if I’m ever late getting anything done.” Her eyes narrowed, an assessing, curious light glittering in them as she watched him.

He hated it when she stared at him like that. As though she suddenly glimpsed something in his gaze or in his expression that was another piece of a puzzle she was putting together.

He wasn’t a damned puzzle. He was a fucking horny man and he was trying damned hard to keep a handle on the lusts raging through him.

What the hell did she expect from him?

“Do you want me to help you pack?” His arms went over his chest as he glared at her now, channeling all the frustrated lusts into irritated anger.

Anger was a hell of a lot easier to deal with than a redheaded little rogue determined to drive him crazy inside.

“No. Actually, I don’t need your help.” She came to her feet slowly, like a cat slowly unwinding from a favorite bed.

She didn’t stretch, but she didn’t have to. Laziness wasn’t a part of her demeanor at the moment.

“You need someone’s help,” he growled as he stared around the living area once again. “What about the other rooms? Are they ready to load?”

Her eyes narrowed further. “Everything but the living room. Would you like to check, daddy, and make certain I’m following orders?”

The sweetness of her voice almost had his balls shrinking. Intimidation from a five foot four piece of dynamite? It shouldn’t be possible.

But he knew this little piece of dynamite could pack a whallop when it wanted to.

Unfortunately, common sense didn’t seem to be his forte tonight.

“Don’t call me ‘daddy’, Tehya. I’m well aware of your feelings when it comes to fathers.”

She distrusted them. She even watched the men she had worked with for years with a suspicious gaze once they’d become fathers.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jordan,” she replied with a cute little drawl that in no way detracted from the danger glittering in her gaze. “I have no feelings one way or the other where fathers are concerned. I never had a father, so how should I know how they’re supposed to act. Sperm donors don’t count.”

She had little more than a sperm donor. One that kidnapped her mother, impregnated her, then attempted to raise Tehya to become a brood mare for her half brother.

“You’ve had weeks to prepare for this,” he reminded her. “You should already be out of here.”

Something flashed in her eyes then, something he could have sworn was grief.

If it was, then it was the same grief that seemed to be growing inside him as well. A well of furious denial when it came to walking away from her. She cast him one of those cool little looks of warning retribution as she stood, facing him.

“I dare you,” she suddenly stated, her eyes narrowing as she stared back at him.

Every muscle in his body tightened dangerously.

God no. Don’t let her dare him, not where he could sense that dare was going.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you not hearing so well, Commander Jordan?” A red-gold brow arched slowly as her arms crossed over breasts, pumping the delicate mounds up, making them so damned tempting his mouth almost watered.

“I dare you to actually touch me,” she explained, that note of anger in her voice causing his jaw to clench in determination. “You’ve been a complete prick for six years now, alternating between ignoring me and ordering your men away from me until it’s made me ready to pull my hair out. Be a man Jordan. See if you can handle it. See if you can handle me.”

There were some challenges a man couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to. This was one of those challenges.

Be a man?

She had no idea the man she was tempting.

“Don’t push this,” he warned her, his fingers curling to fists at his sides. “You may not like the consequences.”

“Or you may not,” she replied with an edge of pain-filled mockery. “What’s wrong Jordan, afraid you can’t walk away from me as easily as you’ve walked away from the little bimbos you’ve been fucking for the past six years?”

That flare of contempt that lit her gaze had his jaw tightening, but it was the pain, in her voice, in her gaze, that tore at him. He hated hearing the pain, even that blurred edge of it. He’d seen that aching need, that hunger for something more, for years now. Too many years.

“I can walk away from any woman, Tehya.” He tried to keep his tone soft, gentle. God knew he didn’t want to fray those ragged edges further.

Soft lips tightened as the sharp blade of her nose tightened. Emerald green eyes sharpened to a gem brightness, not from tears, no, Tehya didn’t cry easily. Hell, had he seen her cry at all in all the years he had known her? Definitely he hadn’t seen her cry for herself.

“Can you really?” Her head tipped to the side. “Isn’t that nice, Jordan, to be so certain you need nothing, no one. How superior you must feel to the rest of us mortals.”

Sharp, biting, her voice cut straight through the icy disdain he would have shown any other woman. The problem was, with Tehya, there was simply nothing but raw lust and shadowed emotions. That was the reason he stayed as far the hell away from her as possible.

He couldn’t project an icy disdain that simply wasn’t there. What he did have was a dick so damned hard he could pound iron with it.

“I don’t feel superior, Tehya.” Frankly, he felt lacking. In the past years, watching the happiness that filled men who had once been cold, hardened warriors, he’d finally realized what he’d lost in his life.

It was a loss he had accepted long ago, he reminded himself. He couldn’t make the mistakes he had made in the past. The blood and rage that stained the darkest days of his life were never forgotten.

“The hell you don’t.” Anger filled her voice, but naked need filled her eyes. “You stood above your men daily staring down that sharp, arrogant nose of yours as though they were recalcitrant children in need of discipline for actually daring to love. You were mockingly amused at the lot of them.”

Surprise started inside him. Was this what his men thought? What his nephew thought? That he felt himself better than they because they loved?

He’d be damned if that were the truth. He knew the choices he had made, just as he knew that his men were in a far better position than he. They had someone to hold onto at night, someone to ease the aching loneliness.

“Is that what you really believe, Tehya?” He took a step forward, feeling blistering need and offended anger crowding inside him.

He promised himself before coming here that he wouldn’t touch her, that he would simply tell her goodbye.

Goodbye wasn’t going to be enough.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and leave, Commander Jordan,” she sneered, those tempting witch’s eyes flaring back at him as the fiery red of her lashes seemed to blaze around the iridescent color. “There’s the door, don’t let it hit you in the ass. Isn’t that what you Americans say?”

A whisper of French, that alluring little accent that only came out under the most extreme situations whispered across his senses as it always did.

It may have whispered across his senses but it seemed to wrap around his cock and squeeze. His balls tightened, the tormenting ache filling them increasingly.

She did this to him. She made him crazy like this and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it. It traveled through his bloodstream like poison, like a potent drug, stripping away the control he prided himself on and leaving him grasping at the threads of decency as he tried to force himself away from her.

“You don’t want to keep pushing this,” he warned her.

“Well hell, you must be enjoying it, Commander, you’re still standing here.” Her breasts were heaving, the nipples so hard beneath the silken material he swore they were going to pop right through the threads.

The urge to lick his lips was almost overpowering. The need for her was almost overpowering.

“I could fuck you,” he growled then. “It’s what you want, it’s what we both want, but have you considered what would happen the morning after?”

“Will there be a morning after?” she questioned him roughly. “Aren’t you the one who said you could fuck me, but then you would have to kill me? Double O Seven has nothing on you, does he, stud?”

Stud? She did not just call him Stud?

Damn her, the woman didn’t have the good sense to know when to keep her smart mouth shut or her tender heart safe.

Before he could stop himself, his hands were on her. His fingers curled around her upper arms as he jerked her to him, watching as her eyes widened, her hair seeming to flow around her as the pure silk of her flesh met the calloused roughness of his hands.

And then he froze. Because her skin was so fucking soft. Beneath his palms felt as heated, warm and soft as a cloud itself.

Spreading his fingers apart he touched her with his palms only, watching as he let the inner part of his hand cup the curve of her shoulder.

Hell, he wanted her. He wanted to fuck her until he was mindless with it, until nothing or no one mattered but Tehya.

She would be the death of him.

That was but a distant thought as he let himself relish the feel of his palms. He swore he could feel the sizzle of heat just below the flesh, drawing him, surging through his pores and washing through his system.

“Bad idea.” Swallowing tightly, he stared back at her, so focused on the strength of the need surging through him that all thoughts of pulling back evaporated.

The emerald green of her eyes darkened, glittering with need as he watched her lips tremble.

“Six years,” she whispered. “I waited…”

He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t hear it. The words she was about to whisper would be words she would regret the moment she realized that it wouldn’t have mattered if it had been twenty years.

To hold back the words he covered her lips with his, because he couldn’t let himself hear it.

And everything in the fucking world exploded.

Son of a bitch.

He would have froze if every lust cell in his body hadn’t risen in revolt. Because by freezing, he would be stopping. Hell no.

He tasted her.

His tongue slipped over her lips, licked at them, and before he could retrieve his basic common sense, he gave into this one hunger.

It wouldn’t go any further. He wouldn’t allow it.

But this one pleasure was incredible.

Tehya was terrified to breathe, to whimper in hunger, or to moan in pleasure. She was entranced by the kiss she hadn’t really expected, held enthralled by a hunger that suddenly exploded through her system. His tongue stroked against hers, exciting that feminine, sensual part of her that went deeper than she had ever imagined.

But oh God.

She could feel herself trembling, shaking against him. Her hand lifted, fingers outspread, not really touching him. She wanted to touch him. Desperately. Feel him.

He was warm, so warm. The feel of his lips moving against hers, over them, his tongue stroking against hers sent pleasure racing through her as she lifted, strained to get closer without gripping his arms and pulling herself straight into his embrace.

His fingers curved around her shoulders, held her to him. Her fingers curled and before she knew it she was gripping the material of his shirt, feeling the rolled sleeves beneath them.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t feel her hands shaking through the material of his clothing. Maybe he wouldn’t sense the incredible need that, there seemed, there was no escape from. A need that had tormented her since the day she had met him.

“God. Tey.” His hands slid down her arms, gripped her hips and jerked her closer, pulling her against the hard, heated length of his cock.

Behind denim, thick and hard, the heated flesh of his erection was a wedge of temptation, a promise of satisfaction, and it was pressing into her lower stomach. She could feel the promise of satisfaction within her grasp. His hands gripped and kneaded her ass, lifting her, the silk of her gown falling, pressing between her legs as she felt his thigh wedging between hers, the rough denim rubbing the silk against the swollen, sensitive flesh of her sex.

She had never deemed herself a romantic person, but she saw starbursts.

His teeth nipped at her lips as she gasped, fighting to draw in oxygen as his lips tore from hers, the rasp of the day’s growth of his beard scraping against her jaw in a caress that had her arching closer.

It was exquisite. It was better than she had ever imagined it could be, and her imagination was damned good.

“Jordan.” The gasp of his name was a sigh of pleasure as she felt his hand move from her rear to her thigh, his fingers edging beneath the silk of her gown, the calloused tips of his fingers stroking up the outside of her thigh.

“Is this what you want, Tey?” His arm wrapped around her waist, lifted her, and before she could do more than breathe out roughly she was pressed against the wall as he lifted her thigh, pulling it to his hips as he lifted her closer.

Her gown fell back from her thighs as she felt his hard, muscular thigh press harder, more firmly into the sensitive mound of her pussy.

Her clit throbbed. The aching torment of unquenched pleasure rose inside her, burning through her body, and dampening her skin with perspiration.

“Answer me, Tey.” Rougher, darker, his voice stroked over her senses as she felt his fingers curve over the bare flesh of her rear. “Is this what you want, sweetheart?” His fingers curved, pushed beneath the curve of her rear, and found the lush, slick flesh weeping in need between her thighs.

“Yes.” It was a hiss of exquisite pleasure. His fingers stroked, rubbing against the clenched opening of her pussy and sent rasping flares of sensation rushing through the sensitive flesh, through her clit and straight to her womb.

Oh God, she wanted to come. She was so close. She could feel the need throbbing in her clit, rushing through her veins. It was a pleasure borne of emotion, and she knew it. Emotion she kept tightly reined, until now.

Until his fingers rubbed against her opening, pressed and parted the sensitive flesh to slip inside, just enough to make her entire body burn. To penetrate just deep enough to make her hungrier, to make her moan in rising excitement.

“You’ve been begging for it, Tey,” he said, his voice sounding as desperate now, as tormented as her body felt.

“And you haven’t?” she gasped, her head rolling against the wall as those two fingers sank just deeply enough to drag an unwilling cry from her throat. “Every time you warned one of your men off…” A startled, desperate cry tore from her lips as his fingers jerked back, then plunged forward, stroking inside her with a whiplash of intensity certain to weaken her mind.

Her hips jerked, trying to force his fingers deeper as she felt her juices gathering, saturating his fingers as he pulled back and thrust inside her again.

“If one of my men had touched you I would have had to kill him,” he suddenly snarled a second before his teeth nipped at her shoulder, the tiny shock of heat flooding her womb as his fingers pressed deeper. “I would have made sure he was gone, Tehya, one way or the other.”

Those wild blue eyes glared into her as his head lifted, his dark face flushed with lust as she fought to keep her eyes open. It was hard. She wanted to look at him, to see him as he touched her, as lust poured into his gaze.

She had waited so long for this. For his kiss, for his touch. She didn’t want to miss so much as a single sensation.

He didn’t give her a chance to reply. His lips moved back to hers, kissing her with a greedy hunger that had her arching closer as her fingers gripped the back of his neck, beneath the long strands of rich, silky black hair.

She had never known sensations so rich and lush, so incredibly vivid. She had had sex before, but never had it made her mindless, made her so desperate for it that all she could do was hold on and silently plead for more.

A keening wail tore from her throat as the fingers lodged inside her began to rub rather than thrust. He chose a spot so ultra sensitive, so wickedly heated that she began to shake from the sensations.

Her entire body was stretched on a rack of such incredible pleasure that she felt intoxicated. Her senses were dazed with the overload of sensations, her pussy clenching, tightening on the two wicked fingers stroking her with diabolical intent.

“There, Tehya,” he panted as his lips slid from hers again. “You’re so wet, baby. So sweet and hot. So fucking tight.”

Her pussy spasmed again, her juices spilling to his fingers as his head lowered, his teeth raking against her neck as he nipped and kissed the sensitive flesh there.

The low cut bodice of her gown was pushed aside, her breasts rising to his lips, her nipples hard, aching, as he kissed a path to the first.

Tehya swore she lost consciousness for a moment as his lips surrounded the hardened bud.

Pleasure exploded through her.

The feel of his lips drawing on the tender tip sent sensations racing straight to her womb. Ecstasy struck at her clit, her pussy. Fire raced through her, jerking her hips, driving her sex against his fingers as she nearly climaxed from the intensity of it.

Nearly. Almost. She was so close to coming. She could feel her orgasm just out of reach, teasing her with the promise of mindless rapture as his fingers slid back and thrust inside her, driving into the responsive tissue and stroking a maelstrom of eroticism in their wake.

Before she could process the fact that he had moved, Tehya suddenly found herself sprawled over the low bar that separated the living area from the kitchen. Jordan’s fingers were still inside her, fucking her with forceful strokes as her hips arched, her thighs falling further apart as he sucked, licked and nipped at the tender tips of her breasts.

She felt the wildness of his response, the hunger she had glimpsed in his eyes burning out of control as he groaned around her nipple.

She was finally in his arms. He was kissing her, touching her.

“You’ll destroy us both,” he whispered as his lips moved from one nipple to its mate.

She couldn’t answer, it was all she could do to breathe. The fingers of one hand held tight to his neck as she gripped his wrist with the other, desperate to force his fingers to thrust harder, deeper inside her. To give her that extra, added sensation that she needed to slip over the edge into orgasm.

She just wanted to come. She wanted that heated, destructive release tearing through her before anything could interrupt it, before Jordan could regain his control and pull back from her.

Then his fingers were sliding from her. There was no time to protest the action, no chance to make sense of the sudden desertion. His hands gripped her thighs, pushed them further apart, and in the space of a heartbeat, his tongue licked through the bare, saturated folds of her pussy.

Tehya froze. Her body quivered, so close to orgasm it was agony to wait as she stared down her body and met those wild blue eyes.

And he let her watch. Watch as his tongue stroked around and laved the swollen, flushed bud of her clit. It rubbed against the pulsing knot of nerves, sent clenching fingers of sensation spearing to her pussy, jerking her body tight and dragging a desperate cry from her lips.

Pushing her thighs further apart his lips went lower, flickering over the quivering entrance before he thrust inside suddenly, spearing into the sensitive channel before licking with diabolical greed and wicked hunger.

Tehya felt herself exploding. Arching, shaking, her back came up, her fingers clenching in his hair as the rush of flames tore through her body and seared across her nerve-endings in violent response.

The rush of liquid heat between her thighs had Jordan groaning into the swollen folds of her pussy.

He’d never tasted anything as sweet, as rain-soft as this woman’s response to his touch. Her body was tight, shuddering, pleasure tearing through her as he brought her to orgasm, holding onto her, amplifying it with soft licks of his tongue and the little rubbing motion he used against the underside of her clit.

She was jerking in his arms, crying out his name, her voice hoarse, filled with emotion. God, he didn’t want to hear the emotion. This was one night only. It was supposed to be one kiss only, but the damage had already been done. They were both so damned hungry for this that he knew there would be no staying away from each other unless this was finished.

Then he could return to showing the world what a cold, hard bastard he really was. He would return to showing Tehya that there was no future to this, ever. That tonight was all they could ever have.

As the final pulses of her orgasm flexed against his tongue, Jordan slid back slowly, lapping at her, filling his senses with the sweetness of her before straightening, picking her up in his arms and carrying her to her bedroom.

He had been here only once before, when she first came to the Operation center. He had shown her to the small underground apartment, shown her around.

When they had stepped into the bedroom, tension had whipped in the air, even then.

It wasn’t much different now. Boxes were packed and awaiting transport rather than awaiting unpacking. The bed was larger, a king-sized rather than full as it had once been.

He laid her in the center of the bed, narrowed his eyes down at her as he undressed.

Shedding the last of his clothes, Jordan watched as Tehya tossed her gown to the floor. It would have been a shame to ruin the silk, but he would have torn it from her if she hadn’t removed it herself.

Gripping the base of his dick he fought back the need to simply fuck her. That was what he should do. He should go right to her, thrust inside her and drive them both to climax.

But he needed more. He ached for more. He had his own fantasies to fulfill tonight, especially this one.

He watched as she sat before him, pushing her hair back, staring up at him with those witchy eyes as she licked her lips slowly.

Jordan eased onto the bed, kneeling in front of her, the overriding lust stripping away what little restraint he had held onto over the years.

His hand slid into the back of her head, delving beneath those silky curls.

“You know what I want,” he growled, almost wincing at the sound of his own voice. “Suck my dick, Tehya. Let me fuck that sweet mouth.”

Response flared in her eyes and he wanted to curse. He hated himself. Hated the needs that tore through him, the dominance that was too much a core part of him, and the hunger he couldn’t still for this too-delicate woman.

Her lips parted for him, her little pink tongue peeking out to lick over the engorged, flushed head of his cock as rapid-fire electrical impulses began to attack his nerve endings.

Clenching his teeth, he couldn’t hold back the groan that rumbled in his chest. It was so fucking good. Her tongue was a lash of pure ecstasy on the head of his dick, the aching throb of pleasure sending waves of sensation through his balls and then across the rest of his flesh.

His fingers clenched her hair as his thighs tightened. He swore he could feel his come building in his balls, threatening to erupt.

Holding the base tight, he rubbed the head against her tongue, her lips. Watching as her eyes met his, as the engorged flesh of his cock caressed paradise.

He wanted to sink inside. To feel her hot mouth closing over the super sensitive head of his dick and sucking it in. The anticipation of it was killing him.

“Suck it,” he ordered roughly. “Let me in that hot little mouth, baby. Let me fuck it like I’ve dreamed of for ten damned years.”

Ten fucking years. It was too late to wait for this. Too long to wait to feel her lips closing over the head of his cock, sucking him into ecstasy.

Her lips parted.

Jordan didn’t wait for her to take him. Her lips parting was permission enough.

Holding firm to her hair, he watched instead as he pushed inside, then shuddered as a wave of heat tore through as he watched her suck him inside.

Sweet, pink lips were stretched, reddened. Those brilliant emerald eyes fluttered, closed as pleasure suffused her face. Her hands smoothed down his flanks before moving up, one hand moving between his thighs, her fingers finding the taut, responsive sac of his balls and cupping it with silken hands.

This was paradise.

Ah hell, he was going to lose himself in her and he could feel it. The threat of it was there. The threat of losing every promise he had made to himself over the years had the potential to destroy him.

“Fuck yes!” he hissed out as she began to move, her mouth caressing the engorged crest as she began a firm, erotic suckling of her mouth that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out against for long. “Suck my dick, baby. Sweet, hot fucking mouth…”

His thighs burned they were clenched so tight as her hungry mouth began to work over his cock. Her tongue lashed against the underside of the head, rubbed. The suckling pressure eased, then tightened.

Flames of hair swayed down her back, over her shoulders, caressing his thighs. Her hands were never still. One caressed his balls, the other clenched at his thigh, her fingertips rubbing against it ever so often. Her cheeks hollowed as she caressed the throbbing cock head in her mouth, working it with delicate greed as a moan whispered over the aching crest.

Hell, he couldn’t hold out long. He wanted to fuck her too badly. The need to spill inside her was building in his balls, burning through his body.

“Fuck,” he snarled in desperation. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to lose his hold on the sight and the feel of her holding to him as his hips moved, his cock thrusting against her swollen lips.

The sensual, completely absorbed look on her face ratcheted the pleasure racing through him. He could feel his entire body tightening to the breaking point, every muscle, every cell was attuned to each draw of her mouth, each flick of her tongue, each incredible stroke of her silken fingers against his balls.

Clenching his hands tighter in her hair, he fought to hold back his release, fought to hold back the groan building in his chest.

She was killing him.

Watching her, seeing the fantasy that had haunted his life since the day he had first seen her in Aruba eight fucking years ago, was wearing away every objection he had used over the years to remain distant from her.

“Tehya,” he couldn’t hold back the groan. “Ah, God baby.”

Hell, he swore he could feel his knees weakening.

His hips jerked against her as he fought to keep his strokes shallow, to keep from hurting her. Damn, it was hard. He needed to be further inside her. He needed to be surrounded by her.

But pulling back from the sweet pleasure of her hungry mouth was impossible, not simply because she refused to release him, but because he couldn’t make himself pull back.

Her mouth tightened on his cock as he felt the blood pounding harder through the shaft. His balls were agonized, the shaft flexing, release was only seconds away.

“Tey,” he said desperately. “I’m going to come, baby. Move that sweet mouth or I’m going to fill it.”

She moaned, a hungry, greedy sound that lit a fire to a sensual fuse that exploded through him, with the power to weaken his knees and almost take him to the floor.

His hands tightened further in her hair. He had to be pulling the strands and couldn’t pull back. The surge of sensation racing through his cock, exploding through the head and spurting from it, rocked him to his soul.

He’d never come so hard. Six years of waiting, fantasizing, and his mind was exploding with his release.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

He was still hard, the pleasure tearing through him was like a narcotic, an addiction, and he wanted more.

Somehow, he found the strength to pull her head back, watching as his cock slid from her reddened lips, as those amazing green eyes opened to stare back at him in dazed pleasure as her tongue ran over her lips, the pleasure apparent in her face.

“Lie down.” He raked his eyes over the gentle lines of her body. The scattering of freckles across her nose was duplicated in a small area across the tops of her shoulders. Just the lightest hint of them beneath the skin, intriguing him, tempting him to investigate the satiny flesh.

She lay back, her breasts rising and falling quickly, her face flushed, her soft flesh sweat-dampened.

“Spread your legs.” He could barely force the words out.

Tehya stared up at him, watching the wild blue of his eyes, darker, gleaming brighter than she had ever seen them.

“Beautiful.” The sound of his voice was thicker, harsher, as he came to his knees before her spread thighs. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”

She shook her head. She had never seen herself as beautiful. She had never believed she was beautiful. But at this moment, she felt, at the very least, pretty in his eyes. When he stared at her as though he were starving for the taste of her, his cock thick and hard, flushed, the head dark and throbbing as he came to his knees between her thighs.

“How pretty,” he murmured, reaching out to run his fingers over the bare folds of flesh.

For a second, nerves edged at the arousal that had her dazed, almost uncomprehending.

She could see his absorption with the fact that there were no curls there, that her skin was softer, smoother than it would have been if she waxed or shaved.

Naturally bare. She had been bred to have no pubic hair. Her father had known the child he wanted, and he had chosen the perfect woman to conceive that child. And one of his requirements had been a woman whose genetics lacked the gene for pubic hair.

The thought, the memory of that past, threatened the pleasure wrapping around her.

Then his fingers parted the folds, slid against the entrance, and two pressed inside her.

Immediately her hips jerked, sensation slamming through her womb, her clit, rocking through her system with an overload of pleasure.

“So ready for me,” he said hoarsely as he came over her, his fingers sliding free as he gripped his cock and tucked the engorged crest against the entrance.

“Jordan.” She could feel him, thick and heavy, prepared to penetrate as her lashes fluttered in pleasure.

“It’s okay, baby. Everything’s okay.”

He pressed tighter.

So many years of waiting. So many years that she had felt teased out of her mind, desperate to have him touch her, hold her, and it was finally happening.

Her hands lifted, her fingers gripping his hard biceps as he began to enter her, stretching her, burning her.

Her nails dug into his arms, her hips lifting, lowering, working his flesh deeper inside her as her gaze locked with his.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “That’s it sweetheart. Fuck me.”

Tehya shook her head as she felt her juices gather and gush at the eroticism of the command, the sound of his voice, so rich and husky.

Surging closer, she gasped, bit her lip. He was so thick, so hard, the shaft was almost bruising as it impaled her, separating her intimate flesh and forging inside each time she thrust upward.

Her thighs spread wider, each sensation merging into the one before it, building, coalescing into such sharp, fragmented shards of sensation, that by the time he took control of her and forged into the hilt, she was crying out in pleasure.

“Look, Tey.” His gaze sliced from hers as he glanced down her body, pulling hers to that point where they met.

The swollen folds of her pussy were parted, glistening with wetness, cupping, enfolding the base of the hard shaft penetrating her.

The sight of it had a punch of pleasure tearing through her womb, jerking her hips tighter against his, lodging his cock harder inside her, the head rubbing against the over-stretched depths of her vagina.

As she watched, he pulled back, revealing the glistening shaft, pulling out until only the thickened crest remained before pushing inside her, slowly, deeply. The flared head stroked over ultra sensitive nerve endings, rasped against excited flesh and sent a flood of sensations racing through her bloodstream.

As though that thrust were a breaking point, Jordan gave a harsh groan before pulling her to him, his lips covering hers as his hips began to move with a smooth, steady rhythm.

Tehya fought to hold onto him, to meet each stroke as pleasure seared her senses and flamed through every cell of her body.

Electric heat sizzled through her, fingers of it raking from her womb to her clit, her nipples. Her body was screaming for release, each thrust of his cock rasping through her pussy, caressing the sensitive flesh with rapid-fire strokes.

Her gaze locked with his, mesmerized with the brilliancy of the blue, held in thrall with the hunger and the need reflected in them.

A hunger and need that tore through her, that rose with each thrust, with each forceful entry, into the clenching flesh surrounding him.

“Tehya.” Her name seemed torn from his lips as her legs wrapped around his hips, her nails digging into his arms. “God yes, baby. Fuck me.”

His voice was harsher, thicker.

Tehya felt the waves of sensation gathering in her womb. The clenching tightness that echoed to her pussy, spasmed through it. Her clit swelled, tightened.

She could feel his cock, thicker, harder than before as each thrust began to tighten, shorten.

Sensation began to burn in her clit, her pussy. Her breaths became moans, rising with each shocking burst of pleasure as she felt the pleasure tightening inside her, burning, flaming out of control, until it suddenly exploded like fireworks gone wild.

His name became a wailing moan. As her hips arched, she felt her pussy tightening, clenching on his thrusting cock a second before the world melted around her.

Ecstasy began to thunder through her. A storm of sensation exploded through her in rapturous bursts, arching her body, shuddering through it as she felt Jordan thrust in hard, deep. He jerked her against him, his hard, muscular body rippling with pleasure as he began spilling inside her.

Spurting deep and hot, his release swept through her senses as her own seared her nerve endings and left her gasping at the intensity of her own orgasm.

She didn’t know if she was breathing. She didn’t care if the world itself rained down upon them. Nothing mattered but this pleasure and the white hot mix of sensation and emotion rising through her.

Emotion.

She had sworn she would never love, but she knew, six years before, that was a promise she would end up breaking.

She loved Jordan Malone.

He’d just destroyed both of them.

Jordan stared at the ceiling above him as he held Tehya in his arms and knew he had made a huge mistake.

He’d fought this for six years. Fought it and swore he’d never give into it, because he knew it had no future. That he had no future with her.

Tehya had that love of danger, the addiction to the adrenaline rush, the same as he had. He’d seen it in her far too many times.

She wouldn’t let it go. She would find trouble if she stayed with him. They would tempt each other, dare each other, and eventually, he feared, find trouble that would end up getting them both killed.

And even if he was wrong, even if she was the home-and-hearth type, there was always the risk that his enemies, those made before his time in the Elite Ops, would find him. And when they found him, they would find his weakness.

Tehya.

“Nothing to say?” she whispered from where she lay against him, obviously awake.

When he said nothing, she moved.

Rolling from his side, she rose from the bed, and moving slowly, wearily, collected her gown from the floor and pulled it over her head.

Wiping his hand over his face, Jordan rose himself, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched her broodingly. Son of a bitch, this was one of the reasons he hadn’t taken her to his bed. Tehya wasn’t a one night stand, and he had known it.

And hurting Tehya was something he had tried desperately not to do.

Something he had known from the beginning that he had no choice in.

Tehya promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She fought back the tears but she couldn’t fight back the pain clenching her chest and throbbing through her heart.

She had always assumed a broken heart was more figurative than literal, but she could feel it ripping in half beneath her flesh. Even her bones ached, her ribs felt too tight, under pressure, as though the emotions tearing at her heart were going to burst from her skin as well.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Those eyes. That brilliant, almost neon blue stared back at her somberly.

Irish Eyes, her friend Sabella Blake had told her once. Jordan had Irish Eyes. Any woman lucky enough to steal his love would have a true window into his soul. Sabella had told her how she had once ‘seen’ the horror of her husband’s torture when he was kidnapped by a drug cartel owner, Diego Fuentes. That she had felt his pain, dreamed of his screams.

Tehya had always wondered what such love would feel like. She had fantasized about possessing this man’s love. A fantasy. That was all it was.

“I have to finish packing.” She heard the hoarseness of her voice and knew she wasn’t hiding her emotions as well as she had hoped to.

“Tehya, I don’t want to lose your friendship either, not because of this,” he said as he pushed his legs into his jeans then rose and pulled them over his muscled legs.

“Are we friends, Jordan? Were we ever?” She had never felt friendship from him.

She couldn’t define exactly what she had felt from him over the years. She knew her own emotions had been in conflict more than once, but friendship had never been the definition she would have put on their relationship.

“I hoped we were.” That edge of regret in his voice tore at her.

She could almost feel the pity coming, and she really didn’t want to have to shoot him. If he dared to feel sorry for her, then that would be the least of the problems he would have.

Giving her head a quick shake she turned and walked from the bedroom. She couldn’t handle this tonight. She couldn’t stand here and discuss friendships, see the pity on his face, or face the realization that six years of dreams had been wasted effort.

Six years. God, it had been so long. It had been too damned long. Suddenly, she felt far older than she actually was, and far too tired to fight with herself any longer.

“Tehya?” Jordan followed, standing in the bedroom doorway as she moved to the stack of empty boxes and protective paper stacked next to the shelves she hadn’t yet packed.

Each of the trinkets had been collected over the years. The pocket dragons. There were fairies, there were expensive little keepsake boxes. And there were pictures. Pictures of the team she had worked with, their wives. In a few there were children of those men. In a few, there was an unsmiling Jordan. In one, he stood next to Tehya, one arm around her shoulders as they stared back at the camera.

This was the past six years of her life.

She picked up the picture of her and Jordan first, wrapped it, packed it.

“Why do you think I haven’t taken you to my bed before now?” he asked from the bedroom doorway.

“Why don’t you leave, Jordan?” She didn’t look at him, she couldn’t.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, and she wasn’t about to do it while he was standing there watching her as though waiting for her to break apart.

Before she knew he had moved he was next to her, his hands gripping her upper arms as he jerked her around.

She saw the anger then. His eyes were bright with it, the blue snapping down at her as his expression tightened with it.

“I didn’t want to hurt you!”

“And you haven’t.” She wasn’t backing down from him but she would be damned if she would cry for him.

He hadn’t done this to her, he hadn’t asked her for what she felt and how many times had he pushed her away, done everything but told her that it couldn’t happen?

It had been her own stubbornness, her own stupidity that had led her here. She had known better. At least she should have known better.

Sex wasn’t love, and she could see now what he had tried to save her from.

Yet the anger was there inside her as well. A feminine fury she couldn’t escape.

“Tehya, we’re friends,” he ground out furiously. “If you ever need me…”

“I didn’t need you before I came here, and I won’t need you after I leave.” Jerking away from him, she stalked to the far side of the room and faced him where the sheer power of his presence would hopefully be diluted.

“God, Tehya!” He raked his fingers through his hair, the long, silken strands falling around his face with such male, sensual disarray that she had to clench her fingers at the overwhelming need to run them through it again.

“Don’t do this, Jordan.” She had to get away from him, she had to hold back the tears. “Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. Just leave.”

Over the years, that was all she had done, held back her emotions, held back her dreams, hell, she had held back her life on the hope, the dream, that something more than blood could fill her future.

But her time here was over. The Elite Ops was shutting down and the new team coming in didn’t need her. They had their own people, their own specialties. No one needed the daughter of a white slaver, a daughter that had been specially bred for the depraved sexual hungers of the man he had envisioned her going to.

She had no special training. She had no true education. She was an outcast, plain and simple. Unlike the other members of the team, there wasn’t a happily ever after waiting for her when she walked out the doors of the base.

There would be no family waiting on her. There were no friends she could find. She would have a new identity, but she had no idea what the hell to do with it.

She watched as he shrugged his shirt on and buttoned it with quick, angry movements. She couldn’t miss the anger, it glowed in his eyes, tightened in his body.

“I don’t want to lose contact with you.” He seemed to be forcing the words out.

He was placating her and she hated that.

She nodded slowly. “I’m sure we won’t. We have friends in common. Hell, you can always call, right?”

She doubted he would, despite the fact that he had approved the members of the team keeping the satellite phones they had been assigned, as well as the numbers.

As she stared back at him, the only thing she had left to go to began to formulate in her mind, to solidify. She had held back from the promise she had made to herself when she was younger. She had given up on the only thing that had kept her going until Jordan. And that was something she knew how to do. It was something she didn’t need Jordan to help her with, didn’t need him to be a part of.

She still had the fragment of a dream, the Elite Ops had at least given her the ability to walk away safe.

“Tehya.” The sound of his voice, the regret returning, was tearing her apart.

She didn’t want this. She should have never pushed him, she should have walked out of here and kept the dreams rather than the reality.

Touching him, being touched by him, feeling the first orgasm of her life that she hadn’t given herself, would destroy her now. Because she knew what it could be. She knew what she was losing, and it would haunt her every day of her life.

“I need some time.” She swallowed tightly.

“I can give you time.” He nodded slowly. “But not indefinitely, Tehya. The time will come when we’ll talk about this.”

No, it wouldn’t. When the transportation team arrived to haul away her belongings, she would already be gone. She couldn’t stay here, couldn’t bear to see him, even another moment. If she didn’t leave before morning came, then she would beg. And God knew she didn’t want to beg for a love he couldn’t give her.

“Of course we will.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and turned away from him as she moved to the open kitchen. “We’ll talk.”

They wouldn’t talk, because there was truly nothing for them to talk about.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he stated.

And Tehya nodded. It was another lie. They wouldn’t talk in the morning, he wouldn’t see her in the morning, because she wouldn’t be here.

She didn’t hear him move, she felt him move. She felt him coming closer to her, tensed, knowing that the connection to him would be severed forever once she walked out of the base.

It was just over. There were no more chances to capture his heart.

She had failed. The most important dream she had ever had, and she had failed.

His hands settled on her shoulders, his hold implacable as he turned her until he could pull her against his chest.

“I should have stayed out of your bed,” he whispered as his lips brushed against her hair. “You’re important to me, Tehya.”

Her teeth clenched. She was going to lose it. Tears thickened in her throat, edged at her eyes. The agony racing through her was tearing her apart second by second until her heart felt like a ragged wound in her chest.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” she informed him, amazed that she could speak, that she could breathe through the pain. “Just go away, Jordan. I’ll have it all together in the morning and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

She would never forget it. She had thought that if she could force him to admit he wanted her, that she would have a chance at his heart. She had never imagined it would become one night only.

“Tehya.” The grimace that tightened his face broke her heart.

His expression said it all. Dealing with her emotions, dealing with the fact that she had expected more, seemed distasteful to him.

She should have been thankful he had allowed her on the team. She, the daughter of the enemy that had murdered his friend, that had been instrumental in nearly destroying his nephew. She might have killed Sorrel, but she still had his blood. She was still his daughter. And she should have known Jordan would have never been able to love someone so closely related to such an enemy.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” Her voice was thicker. She was so close to crying it was humiliating. In that moment, the emotions that raged through her were hated. She wished she could be hard, cold, that she could feel only that tinge of regret that she didn’t have the emotional capacity to care for anyone outside friendship.

She watched as his head turned, his jaw tightened. Then he gave a brief, hard nod before striding to the door.

“We will discuss this in the morning,” he informed her, then opened the door and left the suite.

And then the tears fell.

The sob that tore from her shocked her. Her knees weakened to the point that she nearly went to the floor as her hands pressed tight and hard into the clenching muscles of her stomach.

The emotional pain hurt worse than a bullet.

She could feel the ragged, gaping hole in her chest where her heart had once been, and the agony of it was a horrible realization.

She hadn’t thought it would hurt this bad.

She hadn’t imagined it would be this hard to face.

Moving back to the bedroom she quickly dressed in jeans, T-shirt, boots. A leather jacket was thrown over the duffel bag she had packed in the closet. A smaller backpack sat next to it.

The moving team had the address and instructions in handling her belongings, they would be stored for the time being, because she had no place to go.

All she knew was that there was no way she could face Jordan when morning came. That the ragged pain in her chest would only turn to anger, and she didn’t want the love to turn to hatred.

There was nothing left to do but to leave before she was forced to face him again. Before she could push him again, before she could plead with him to love her, beg him to tell her why he didn’t.

Before she broke down and a lifetime of pain and grief overwhelmed her.

How silly of her to believe he could love her when no one else ever had.

Jordan knew Tehya was gone the second he entered her suite. There was such a sense of emptiness, of abandonment, that it was unmistakable. The effect it had on him was undeniable.

She was gone.

His chest tightened with a ragged pain that had his teeth clenching, his fingers fisting. The need to hit something tore through him, nearly overwhelming his control.

A violent, bitter curse escaped his lips before he could cut off the sound.

Breathing out a weary sigh he shoved his hands in his pockets and moved through the large set of rooms anyway. Just to be certain.

If she had taken anything with her, it wasn’t much. Perhaps a few changes of clothes, he thought as he checked the closet, only to see stacked boxes within them marked ‘clothes’. It was the same thing he found through the rest of the suite. Boxes neatly packed, closed and taped. Tehya’s life reduced to less than a quarter of the moving van arriving to relocate her.

He found himself swallowing tightly, his throat oddly blocked at the proof of how little Tehya had amassed over the years. Unlike the other agents, she had no secondary home, no family to go back to, no other house to store her belongings. She’d had nothing but the Elite Ops.

And now, she had no one.

A hard grimace crossed his face before he could control it, a result of the hard ache that clenched his chest. Fuck, he missed her already. Her laughter, her shy smiles, her almost innocent sensuality and affection for him.

He should have never taken her.

Turning, he strode from the suite and headed for the garage area, wondering which vehicle she had taken.

Standing in front of the empty slot where his favorite had sat, he almost grinned. She had taken the black Viper over many of the more expensive performance vehicles stored there. His favorite. The one he had driven more often and had claimed over the years.

Had she taken the Viper because it was the only part of him she could leave with?

She had taken much more with her than she guessed. Already he could feel the empty ache, the dark, brutal core of unrequited need throbbing in his soul.

But she was alive, he told himself as that ache threatened to roll over to grief. She wasn’t in his life, but she had a chance to have a life. A chance to live rather than hide from the past that had haunted her.

That didn’t stop that ragged hole in his heart from bleeding though, and damn if he had expected that. He’d expected regret, hell, he’d known he would miss her. But the ache radiating in his chest wasn’t just regret. He didn’t just miss her.

His nostrils flared as he breathed in hard and turned sharply from the parking area to stride back to his own suite.

He had let her go, holding onto her wasn’t an option. Whatever he was feeling would eventually go away, he assured himself. She had been a part of his life for too long, tempting him, trying to draw closer to him, wiggling her way inside him despite his defenses.

And it fucking hurt to lose her.

But he had lost before. Friends, lovers, co-workers. The violence that surrounded the life he lived had taken them from him.

He contented himself with the fact that Tehya was alive, she was breathing, and one day she would love someone. She would laugh with them, sleep with them. She would have a life, she had never had the chance to have one before.

He had made certain she would have that chance now.

And it was too late to turn back now.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ENIGMA: PROLOGUE TO LIVE WIRE

Copyright © 2010 by Lora Leigh

Cover photograph of man © Shirley Green

All rights reserved.

For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

ISBN: 978-1-4299-1813-8

What will happen when Tehya and Jordan come face-to-face again?

Read the rest of the story in

LIVE WIRE

On Sale March 1, 2011

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MAVERICK

HEAT SEEKER

BLACK JACK

RENEGADE

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HIDDEN AGENDAS

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Lora Leigh can often be found daydreaming and plotting and planning with the varied characters that fill her imagination when she isn’t planning her flower gardens, watching the horses romp outside her home, or spending time with the family and pets she fills her life with. Writing is her passion, her peace, and her lifeline. She hopes you enjoy the stories, and that you visit her website www.loraleigh.com often for updates and news on characters and upcoming books.