Hero - The Ambush: Special Forces Romance (16 page)

I felt his hands hesitate. He gripped the counter, then let them land lightly on my hips. Once I felt the heat of his arms around me, I deepened the kiss, teasing the seam of his mouth. For a moment, I thought he'd push me away, but his lips opened to mine. The kitchen disappeared, the mistakes and barriers melted between us. For one wonderful moment, there was nothing between the two of us but the heat from our bodies and the searing electricity of the kiss.

Then his shoulder muscles tensed under my hands and I knew the moment was over. He started to pull back, clearly fighting himself as he stole a few more tastes of my lips. Then his hands hardened and he tried to push me away. I refused to go, keeping my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. He dropped his gaze, unable to look at me.

“It's over with Ricky,” I said, teasing the hair at the base of Haze's neck.

“Good for you,” he said. “Let's get you over there so you can tell him.”

I ran my fingers across his cheekbone. “He can wait a little longer. Why can't you look at me?”

Finally, he shifted his eyes to mine and gave me a sad smile. “I'm sorry, Leighton. This is wrong.”

He tried to push me away again even as his eyes roamed over my face. When I pressed myself even more tightly to him, he groaned and dropped his mouth to mine for one more light, savoring kiss. Then he shifted against the counter, but I didn't let him go.

He sighed. “Let me go.”

“No,” I said, my tone as stubborn as the set of my jaw. “Why? Are you scared my grandfather is going to discover us?”

“Yes,” Haze said. “The first and most important reason why we can't do this. He and I just want what's best for you.”

“And what if that's you?” I asked. “What if you're just what I need?” I thought about it for a moment, and then spoke again. “I think my grandfather would approve. You're definitely not the kind of man I usually go for.”

“I know. Being with me is a mistake,” Haze said.

I held on to his neck despite the pressure from his pushing hands and sought his gaze again. “It's alright. This is what I want. We can stop trying to avoid it.”

He reached up and gently but firmly, undid my arms from his neck. “There's nothing to avoid. It won't work between us.”

I let go of him and stepped back. It hurt more than I expected. I didn't understand. Haze was the opposite of the well-dressed, slick, rich, privileged man I was normally attracted to. He was working class, army trained, entirely too muscular, and stubbornly proud of his Spartan lifestyle. He didn't have anything I usually went after.

“What wouldn't work?” I asked, refusing to acknowledge everything I'd just thought. “We're together all the time. We're definitely compatible in the bedroom, and we haven't killed each other yet. Why couldn't we be something more?”

There was a moment of silence, and I almost dared to hope. Then Haze spoke, and my stomach twisted.

“I'm your bodyguard, nothing more.”

“What if you weren't?” I asked. “Could we be together then?”

He shook his head and looked away. “Let's not play 'what if,' Leighton.”

He refused to look at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes from his face. His expression was unreadable, but I knew something was wrong. There was something he wasn't telling me. And whatever it was, it was the real reason he refused to be with me.

“You're choosing your job over me.” I made it a statement rather than a question.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't think you even understand what you're saying. If I wasn't your bodyguard, what would I do? Hang around LA and wait for you to invite me out with you and your friends? I'm not like them, not like you.”

“It's more important to you to be my bodyguard than to try being in a relationship with me?” I stomach clenched, my heart twisting painfully. “You're choosing a job over a chance that there's something more between us.”

“Yes, I am.” He hammered a fist on the kitchen counter top. “If I wasn't your bodyguard, someone else would have to be, and who knows what would happen then. I have to make sure you're safe.”

This was worse than waking up alone. I could still taste Haze on my lips, still feel his warmth against my body. I wanted to throw my arms around him again, feel his arms around me. Except he was telling me that his job as my bodyguard was more important than my feelings, than me.

“You really don't care about me, do you?” I asked, my voice small.

“Of course I do,” he said, exasperated. “Why do you think I refuse to give up my job? Someone has to make sure you’re safe, make sure that nothing happens to you, that no one hurts you.”

“What about you?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my middle. My voice cracked. “What happens if you're the one hurting me?”

“Leighton, please, you have to understand.” He was pleading with me now. “Protecting you is more important than anything else. Do you hear what I'm saying?”

“I do,” my grandfather said as he interrupted us. He strode into the kitchen and gave Haze a sharp look. “I believe I pay you to guard Leighton, not talk to her.” He turned to me. “Are you going out today, dear?”

The look that flashed between Haze and my grandfather made my blood boil. I'd had enough of their fucking secrets. I didn't need Haze or the whirlpool of emotions he caused, and I certainly didn't need my grandfather nosing around in my life and disapproving. I was done with all of it.

“I was just heading over to Ricky's,” I said. “Some heartless thug beat him up.”

I didn't wait for my grandfather to speak. I marched out of the kitchen and straight to the front door. I was only waiting a minute or so before Haze brought his car around. I jumped in the front seat and slammed the door without a word to him. He didn't speak either and I seethed in the silence.

I didn't understand how he could appear so unaffected. Even the echo of his words hurt me, but he drove along as if nothing bothered him. I supposed his stoic face was another by-product of his time spent in the army Special Forces, but every time I glanced at his carefully blank expression, I got angrier. I wanted to break his calm, torture him. I wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling.

“Paris is at Ricky's,” I said. “We'll probably go shopping afterwards.”

His jaw flexed, but his voice was as smooth as ever. “Whatever you say, Ms. Machus.”

Paris
answered the door at Ricky's, and I air-kissed both her cheeks despite my urge to claw her eyes out. She was wearing a tiny tank top that barely covered her large breasts and I had no doubt she'd chosen that shirt intentionally. Her ice green eyes flashed as she looked me over, not even bothering to hide her jealousy.

“How is he?” I asked as I brushed past her and into the house.

“I don't know,” Paris said as she followed me. “It sounds like Ricky thinks this was somehow your fault. He says you left him, cheated on him, and sent someone to beat him up.”

“You of all people should know Ricky lies,” I said. It wasn't entirely a lie, but she didn't need to know how much was and how much wasn't.

“Well, if you'd been here sooner, you could have talked to him yourself, but now the painkillers have kicked in,” Paris said smugly. “Before he fell asleep, he told me he didn't want any visitors.”

I stopped Paris at Ricky's bedroom door and gave her my most superior look. “He asked for me, and told you he didn't want visitors. Sounds like maybe you should wait out here.”

Paris scowled, but then lit her eyes on Haze. “Fine. At least you brought me something yummy to look at.”

I ignored the sick twist in my gut as Paris sauntered towards Haze. I couldn't think about that now. I opened the bedroom door and saw Ricky's glazed eyes peeking out from under his duvet. They squeezed shut as I walked over to the bed.

“Painkillers and a slutty nurse, you must be in heaven,” I said.

His eyes fluttered open and he frowned at me. “Hurts.”

“I hear Karma is like that.” I couldn't resist a little dig.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. Paris was right about the painkillers, but as I examined Ricky's face all I could feel was irritation. He had a black eye and a puffy bruise along his jaw, nothing to warrant the darkened room and a bedside visit. But that was Ricky, making it about him. He and Paris were actually perfect for each other, now that I thought about it.

“I know you're pretending to be completely out of it, and maybe you are a little fuzzy, but I'm not waiting on this. I came here to tell you we're over. No more open relationship, no more relationship at all. You're not what I want. I'm done with you.”

I watched to see if there was any response, but there was nothing. I wasn't entirely sure how much of this was real and how much was pretend, so I'd keep the memory of what I said, a speech I could use again and again until he believed me.

It was too bad I didn't have a prepared speech for Haze. One that could tell him how much he'd hurt me. Except he'd made his decision, and there was nothing else to say. The best bet I had was torturing him with a little shopping.

And with Paris' charming company, I thought. It might not be the most fun for me, but at least I'd have the pleasure of watching Haze squirm.

When I returned to the living room, Paris was flitting around Haze, clearly hoping he was looking down her shirt. He wasn't though. He was looking out the window at Ricky's impressive view.

“Isn't it awful? Poor Ricky,” Paris said when she saw me.

“Yeah, poor guy,” I said. “He's out like you said, so I was wondering if you wanted to hit a few shops.”

“Sounds great,” Paris said with a tight smile as she gave me a once-over. “Maybe we can find you something a little better than that dress.”

Haze's jaw flexed again, but he didn't say a word as he held the door open for us. We both climbed into the back seat of the car and, after he got into the driver's seat, I directed him to one of my favorite boutiques. He put on his reflective sunglasses and kept his jaw clenched as he drove us through the busy street.

Paris prattled on as Haze drove and I managed to smile in all the right places to make her think I was paying attention to what she was saying. I wasn't though. All I could think about was trying to figure out what was going on in Haze's head.

When we arrived, I turned my focus to the matter at hand. Shopping.

The first thing Paris tried on was a barely-there beige dress. The effect was scraps of lace covering her, but rather hinting at her nakedness instead of hiding it.

“This should cheer Ricky up, don't you think?” Paris asked. She winked at me. “Especially with nothing under it.”

I balled up a red silk dress and sighed. “Still trying to catch his attention?”

“Oh, I know you two have your whole back and forth thing, but Ricky's never really lost interest in me,” she said, her voice taking on that patronizing tone I hated. “I hope that doesn't bother you. I mean, Ricky told me you ditched him at some fancy hotel yesterday, so I just assumed it was over.”

“You're not wasting any time.” I rolled my eyes.

“Well, I could waste a little time with the right toy.” Paris gave Haze a meaningful look. “Hey, big guy, I think the zipper might be stuck. Help me out in the dressing room, will you?”

Haze didn't even move, continuing to stare out the front windows of the boutique. Paris brushed against him in the lace dress and sauntered over to the three-way mirror. She tossed her hair and laughed as she admired herself.

“You know me, Leighton, just looking for a little fun,” Paris said. She threw me a look over her shoulder. “I hear you're trying it out yourself. Someone told me you had a wild ride with a sugar daddy yesterday.”

A movement caught my attention. Haze was clenching his fist. Paris noticed too.

“Sore subject?” She grinned at me.

She was trying to provoke me and I knew it. Paris was jealous. She always wanted what other people had. I'd been like that before, but now...I couldn't even stand to be in the same store as her. I needed to cut this short.

Paris seemed to read my thoughts. “It must be hard keeping a low profile, especially for you. I mean, if the media found out you were fucking Captain America over there, they'd have a field day. What would people think? What would your grandfather think?”

I tossed the red silk dress back on the rack. “I don't see anything here I want. Should we go?”