"Your girl's pretty cute," Mordichai said. "I think I'll tell her you got your ass kicked again, and she'll realize you may be pretty, but you're not worth too much. I'll be right there to comfort her."
That was it. Ezekiel had already skipped the part where he'd gone into the field with stitches on his body. He'd taken Lily Whitney's concoction that promoted healing, and also used the second generation Zenith drug she'd modified from her insane father's first-generation drug. He hadn't bothered to tell his fellow GhostWalkers about that, and he wasn't about to tell the major general. He was the doctor. He knew what would keep him on his feet through an intense mission. Swimming through the river might not have been the best idea, but the rest of it . . . He handled it.
He had actually written the report, minus the details about his capture, torture and rescue. What the hell was he supposed to say? Bellisia was a big part of that, and Major General Milton wouldn't be satisfied with a paper report. He'd most likely show up and give her the once-over--if she was still there. She had to be. He couldn't imagine Mordichai, or the others for that matter, giving him a bad time if they knew she was gone.
He added a couple of lines, glossing over what happened, knowing the old man was going to call him out for it, but whatever, he was going home. For the first time ever in his life, he had a reason to want to go home. He filed the report and then stepped out of the office and slugged his brother hard, doubling him over. Draden and Gino burst out laughing, but wisely ran for their lives.
"What was that for?" Mordichai demanded innocently. "Sheesh, Zeke, you've got a hell of a temper, always did. Bet your little octo-pussy . . ."
"Don't say it. Don't ever let me hear you or anyone else call her that." Ezekiel went from playing to pissed in record time. "I swear, Mordichai," he threatened, advancing on his brother.
Mordichai held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, bro, that was in poor taste. I'll tell the guys James Bond jokes are off the table."
"You do that. You think she hasn't heard it all before? Whitney has his supersoldiers running around wanting these women to accept them as partners whether the women want them or not. Those men aren't going to be nice about it."
Mordichai cleared his throat. "Speaking of Whitney's supersoldiers, I talked to Joe and apparently Donny had a couple of visitors out at the island. Two of Whitney's for certain. They showed him a picture of Bellisia and one calling himself Gerald claimed she was his wife. Joe took two tracking chips out of her a couple of days ago. It was a bit of surgery; the bastard had embedded them along her ribs on either side. He said it was a nasty little operation getting them out."
Ezekiel swore under his breath. Of course Whitney would chip the women. He'd want to know where they were every second. He hadn't been there for Bellisia when she needed him. The surgery had to have hurt. Was that what men like him went through, out on a mission when things went to shit back home and his woman had to take care of it by herself? Without him. It was bad enough that Joe had to show up and had most likely interrogated her. He groaned, thinking about that.
Joe was a good-looking bastard, but deceptive as a snake. One moment he was charming and the next he struck hard and fast, confusing his enemies. Ezekiel followed his brother and the others out to the truck. He should have been there for that as well. He wouldn't have allowed it. Joe could posture all he wanted, but in the end, what was he going to do? What could he do?
The GhostWalkers were considered military. They served their country, but they had been wronged in a government-sanctioned program that had cost the Earth. No one wanted them walking around as civilians, but what were they going to do with them? Force them to stay in the program? No, they had to sweet-talk them, handle them carefully. That meant GhostWalkers had their own code, and they followed it to the letter. But it didn't include interrogating another man's woman.
"Getting hot in here, bro," Mordichai said under his breath, a whisper of sound.
Gino probably heard, but Ezekiel doubted if Draden had. "He shouldn't have talked to her without me being there, Mordichai," he said. "Not only was it disrespectful, but she belongs to me. She's my choice. And as far as he's concerned, she's a civilian."
Gino cleared his throat. "She came at a bad time. Cheng, if that's the man behind all this, orchestrated the terrorists--and we know he has a connection to that particular cell--to take hostages. Then he has two elite soldiers murdered and his men take their places with the soldiers' faces. Who can do that? This plan wasn't just thrown together, Zeke. If Cheng is really behind this . . ."
"Bellisia isn't lying." He resisted the urge to turn around and smash Gino in the face, but that dark ugliness in him spread. The temperature in the truck raised a degree.
"I know she wasn't lying. She convinced all of us, but Joe wasn't there and it's his job to make damn sure we're all safe when we see action."
"She saved my life. She didn't have to do that. Her repayment has been nothing but interrogations, locked in a cell, betrayal . . . Hell." He raked his hand through his hair, wanting to hit someone. He needed that outlet now, the powerful energy building up until he almost couldn't control it. Whenever it got to that point, he usually fought someone, or at least pounded a heavy bag. It wasn't safe sitting in a truck with his friends.
He took a deep breath and let it out, powering down the window to stare at the swamp as they hurtled past. Mordichai drove like a maniac. Right now, it wasn't fast enough. "I keep wondering if circumstances were the other way around and I'd saved her life at the risk of my own and I was treated the way she was, just what my reaction would be. I wouldn't stay. I would be so pissed I'd want to come back and hunt down every single one of the fuckers who treated me like shit. I'd probably do it too."
"That's because you're one mean son-of-a-bitch, Zeke," Draden said. "Does she know you have that side to you?"
"Probably thinks he's all cute and cuddly," Gino sneered, obviously trying to lighten the mood in the truck.
Ezekiel knew better. He'd seen her face, her eyes, when he'd caught hold of her twice, refusing to let her escape into the river. In her mind he'd betrayed her. In his mind he'd kept his woman from running from him. He wanted to believe he'd done it for all the right reasons--to save those hostages. The truth was something else altogether. He'd found her. His woman. He knew if she got into that water he'd never see her again. He couldn't allow that.
"I am cute and cuddly with her," he mused, "not so much with the rest of you. Right now I want to beat someone up, so please, keep up your bullshit."
The cabin of the truck went suspiciously quiet. Ezekiel leaned back against the high-backed seat with a satisfied smirk. He was still furious with Joe. Still worried about Bellisia's surgery. What did they even know about her physical makeup? Nothing. Joe just operated on her for the good of those at the compound. He should have done tests. She could have bled to death right there on the operating table, or reacted to the anesthesia.
"Come on, Zeke, pull it together," Mordichai hissed. "I haven't seen you like this for years. We're going to roast in here if you don't calm the fuck down."
The truck was barely stopped before Ezekiel had the door open and he'd flung himself out. It was pitch-dark, very late, the entire household in bed with the exception of the guards. He strode into the house, not even looking back at the others. They'd be smirking and he was afraid of what he might do if he saw them.
It didn't matter that he was out of control and acting like he was a teenager, he had to see her. By the time he hit the end of the hallway and turned toward the newer wing where his room was, he was sprinting. He opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside, his gaze going straight to the bed.
He didn't see her, and his heart stuttered in his chest. He took the four steps to the side of the bed and touched the covers. She was slight, maybe it would be difficult to see her. He even ran his hand over the sheets and blanket to see if he could have missed her. She was good at camouflage. It was possible. But she wasn't there.
> He nearly hit the floor. He'd been running on adrenaline practically since he'd been captured. All of a sudden his body just wanted to shut down. She was gone. He sank down on the edge of the bed and scrubbed both hands over his face. Emotion welled up like he'd never experienced. Deep. Shocking. Terrifying almost. He didn't feel like this. Not. Ever. Not even when he heard his own mother bickering back and forth at what price she'd sell her sons to a pedophile for the night. He hadn't hurt like this. Ached inside.
Her scent was everywhere. Clean and fresh with a faint hint of vanilla and orange. He picked up the pillow and held it to his nose, breathing her in. Where would she go? She'd given him her word. The boys would have told him if Joe had run her off. Could there have been complications with the surgery? Maybe she was in the hospital room. They would know better than to take her to an actual hospital with Whitney on her trail.
Joe was going to get a rude wake-up call right then in the middle of the night. Ezekiel decided to hit the bathroom first. Take care of business and then go beat the crap out of Joe. He opened the door to the room and stopped abruptly. The scent of vanilla and orange was stronger here, not as elusive.
The room was dark but he heard the faint lap of water and everything in him stilled. His breath left his lungs in a rush of heat. She was there. He hadn't seen her, but he felt her. She had to be in the big, claw-footed tub he hadn't had any use for but Nonny had insisted should take up room in his private bath. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pulling Bellisia's scent deep into his lungs.
Grace Fontenot really did have the second sight. She'd made him go into New Orleans on a bullshit errand and he'd met Bellisia. Bellisia had saved his life and was definitely his woman. Now, he had this oversized monstrosity of a tub he hadn't wanted but gave in because it was Nonny's house, and his Bellisia needed it. That made him thankful for it.
He took the few steps that would take him to her side. He put his hand out. He was actually trembling. It was ridiculous that he could be such a fucking baby, but he couldn't help himself. Gripping the edge of the tub, he crouched low and peered down at her. She was immersed in water, other than her face. Her eyes were open, those beautiful eyes that were so blue and framed with long, thick exotic lashes.
"Hey, baby," he said softly.
"Hey, yourself."
She sat up, clearly forgetting she wasn't wearing a stitch. For being so small, she definitely had breasts, two little handfuls just for him. His mouth watered. He couldn't help himself, he had to touch her. Her skin was the softest thing he'd ever felt in his life, even wet. Silk or satin, he couldn't decide which. He drew a finger from her collarbone to the swell of her breast, then caressed the swelling curve with the pads of his fingers.
"I thought about you even when I shouldn't have been."
"I thought about you too," she whispered, not flinching under his touch.
"Mordichai said you had surgery."
"Whitney put a couple of chips in me, and they weren't easy to get to. Joe took them out so I wouldn't have to leave."
He hadn't thought about that. Maybe he wouldn't kill Joe after all. "Did it hurt?"
"After. I woke up and felt like someone had scraped my bones with a serrated knife."
Okay, killing was back on the table. He bent down and brushed her lips with his. He had no idea where gentle came from because he hadn't learned it from his mother or on the street. He was a rough man with rough ways, and Bellisia was so small and delicate that right at that moment, looking at her, feeling how fine her bones were, he was afraid if he actually fucked her, he'd hurt her. Bad. Really bad. He wasn't small and he didn't know how to have sex all sweet and romantic. He tended to pound into a woman, hard and fast and satisfying. He'd break her in half.
His cock was so hard he was a little afraid he might shatter. Kissing her didn't help, but he couldn't stop. He knelt down and got serious because she tasted so damn good he had to have more. He locked his arm around her back and half lifted her against him, uncaring that she was soaking wet and now he was as well.
His lips brushed hers, back and forth, demanding entry. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth. And then she opened for him and he was lost. He was swept away into a place of sheer feeling. He'd kissed a lot of girls, although he'd never been into kissing, that was just to get where he was going. He was all about getting inside and getting off. He didn't have relationships, but he always made certain the woman knew the score and both walked away clean.
He'd never wanted to do this. Kissing. Exploring her mouth. Savoring her taste. Claiming her with just his mouth. His fingers bunched in all that wet, thick silk, and he held her there for him to feast on. He took his time with her, not because he was a good guy trying to be gentle, but because this was what she needed and he found he needed it as well. Just kissing her was paradise.
It didn't matter that she tentatively followed his lead. No, he loved that. He loved that his was the only mouth she'd ever willingly kissed. He loved that she'd chosen him. It was a huge risk for her. It had been from the very beginning. She could have escaped Whitney and kept going, never looking back. She didn't have to warn the GhostWalkers Cheng was after them and Violet had sold them down the river. She'd risked her freedom to come to Louisiana and warn them. Then she'd saved him. She didn't have to do that either. Then she'd stayed for him.
He cupped her face in his palms. Held her so he could look down at her eyes. Liquid blue, like the deepest sea. A little dazed. He brushed kisses over her eyelids and then followed the line with his lips to the corner of her mouth.
"I'm getting you wet." Her voice was breathless.
"Are you?" he murmured and reached down to tug at the chain to pull the plug and empty the tub. He swung her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest while water dripped on the floor and soaked his shirt and jeans.
She put her arms around his neck, threading her fingers together at his nape. "Yes. And now you're making a big mess."
"Am I?" He took her mouth again. She had a beautiful mouth and he spent a little time just memorizing the shape and feel of it before delving into that heat.
She kissed him back, giving herself up to him. Giving him everything. He shifted her a little to catch up a couple of towels and heard her breath hitch. Instantly he lifted his head. "Surgery still hurts."
She shrugged. "A little. No big deal."
"I might have to murder Joe. Was he really mean to you? He can be rough."
"Not as bad as it could have been. I wanted to stay. Nonny has been so wonderful to me. I even had my first cooking lesson. I've been watching the cooking channel. Pepper showed it to me." She nuzzled his throat as he took her back into the bedroom. "Did everyone make it home, Ezekiel?"
"One wounded, but he'll be fine. Got the hostages out. One of the Indonesians was in bad shape. We turned him over to the medics there. The American wouldn't have lasted more than a few more hours. We operated on him and he was taken to a hospital. It will take a while for him to heal." His voice turned grim.
She rubbed his shoulder. "You got him out of there. That's what counts."
He set her on her feet and wrapped her in one of the no-nonsense towels Nonny had for the household. She didn't spend a fortune on nice towels. Ezekiel had never noticed or cared until right at that moment. Who would have thought it would matter what kind of towel he dried Bellisia off with, but it did.
"What about you? Are the lacerations healing?"
"I slapped some second generation Zenith on them before I left and took a couple of the pills. I'm healing fast. Did Joe give you the drug?"
She nodded. "And antibiotics. I didn't take the antibiotics. I knew I wouldn't need them."
"Babe." His tone was sheer reprimand, but seriously? "Woman, you spend half your life in water. It isn't always clean."
She laughed softly and the sound was low and sexy, playing over his body until he couldn't breathe with wanting her. "Joe actually tried ordering me to stay out of the water. I didn't go swimm
ing in the river just to keep him from having a heart attack." She looked him over. "Ezekiel, you're soaking wet. You need to get out of those clothes."
His heart jumped. She hadn't made it sound like an invitation, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of hesitating just in case she hadn't meant it that way. He began shucking his clothes fast, and she stepped closer to the bed and lifted the sheet.
"Wait, sweetheart," he said softly.
She turned to look up at him with her large, sea blue eyes, making his heart pound. "What is it? I'm actually dry already. I dry off fast."
"Don't get in bed yet. I want to look at you."
She raised an eyebrow, but she didn't slide under the sheet. Instead she dropped it and turned to face him boldly. He loved that. She took a step toward him, and when he did a little spin with his finger, she turned slowly for him. She had a perfect little body. Perfect for him. Those breasts, the flared hips that would cradle his body so nicely.
"I need to braid my hair. It won't dry like that, but I can't have it all over the place."
She moved toward the bed again, her hands going back to divide her hair in three sections. The action lifted her breasts. A single drop of water ran along the slope to her nipple. Without thinking he leaned down and licked it off. She went utterly still, her gaze fixed on his face, hands still behind her, hair in her fists.
He cupped her breast and drew the soft, inviting mound into the heat of his mouth. She gasped and let her hair fall in a long pale waterfall down her back. "Ezekiel. That feels like fire running straight from my breast to my sex. More. I want more."
He could do that. Give her more. He was all about the more. Just her talking in that breathless sultry voice sent his blood streaking with fire, and that fire went straight to his cock. The thick shaft, as hard as a steel spike, rubbed along her rib cage, up high, almost to her breasts. She hadn't run when she saw his cock and that was a good sign. He dragged her closer, his mouth working, tongue teasing her nipple, flicking and dancing, then suckling and scraping with his teeth until her breath was coming in ragged little pants.