Tangled Pursuit (7 page)

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Authors: Lindsay McKenna

BOOK: Tangled Pursuit
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She watched as warmth flowed into his eyes, and Tal again felt caressing energy extending from him to her. Was that an invisible embrace? She wasn’t sure, because she’d never experienced this before. She swallowed and whispered, “Are you for real?”

The corners of his mouth drew up with amusement. “Oh, darlin’, I’m as real as it gets,” he said and lifted his finger, taking a few strands of black hair that had escaped her ponytail and easing them behind her ear. “You’re looking at me like I’m more ghost than man.” His grin widened, and he let his hand fall back to his side.

“I don’t know,” Tal began, hesitant, trying to see through him or understand him better. “You seem so different from the man I thought you were.”

“Maybe because you discovered that I’m an onion?”

Tal laughed quietly and saw his eyes dance with mischief. “I like the sense of humor you’re sharing with me.”

“I’m pretty much the joker of our SEAL platoon,” Wyatt assured her proudly. “When guys get tight, I just play the clown, and things loosen up pretty quickly.”

“I can see why.”

“And you didn’t see it in me before this?”

Shaking her head, she studied him until silence hung between them once more. Finally, Tal said, “You never showed these sides of yourself to me before. All I saw was you chasing me every time we happened to be at Bagram at the same time. I felt hunted, pursued, and I didn’t like it.”

Nodding, he replied, “Yeah, after all those years? I finally got it. I’m a little slow on the uptake. But I figured out a tactic with you that would hopefully let me gain a little of your trust, Tal.”

Her name rolled off his lips and a tiny shiver of expectation, of need, flowed softly through her. What would it be like to kiss this man with that delicious, strong mouth? Tal now knew he wasn’t a Neanderthal, at least not all of him. No, Wyatt had many layers; she wondered if she’d see even half of them over time. “What took you so long?”

“Well,” he murmured, giving her a silly grin, “you’re an onion too, you know? And you’re equally complex. Sometimes, people like us take time to rummage around and find the right layer to reveal.”

She smiled faintly. “Well said. And so far, I like what you’ve shown me tonight.”

“So? Do I still scare you off?”

“Not as much.”

“But it’s still there? The fear?”

Tal nodded. “Yes . . . but that’s another story for another time, Wyatt.” When she used his first name, she saw him straighten, a gleam come to his eyes, his shoulders pull back with a bit more pride.

Tal found herself wanting to ask him some questions, but she knew it would have to wait. He seemed to be reading her mind. “Now that I know you like stories, I’ll be sharing some more with you from time to time. If you’ll let me.”

“Stories tell a story,” she said almost wistfully, her eyes clouding, remembering her mother reading to her and her siblings. Tal lifted her chin, meeting Wyatt’s attentive gaze. “My mother, Dilara, is Turkish and Greek. She would read us a Turkish fable in that language. And then, several nights later, she’d read us one of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales in English. And then she’d read us Greek myths and speak in Greek to us.”

Wyatt smiled approvingly. “Your mother is a very astute person. Children pick up languages like birds pick up breadcrumbs. She obviously knew what she was doing.”

“Yes, my Greek and Turkish relatives are big on languages. They believe it’s important for us to know as many as possible. They own international shipping companies, so being able to speak foreign languages is important to them.”

“Matt told me about his language skills years ago,” Wyatt admitted. “He never told me how he got them, but now I know. I appreciate your sharing that with me.”

Tal felt her heart opening up a little bit more. “Stories always teach us something if we’re willing to learn and listen.”

“I promise, you’re going to get more stories,” Wyatt said, his voice gruff now, his emotions rising. “It’s how we can reach inside and touch others’ hearts, Tal.”

She backed off a bit. “Wyatt, I’m not sure where your honesty begins and your Texas BS ends yet. All I’ve seen until tonight is a man chasing me, interested in sex and a one-night stand for years.”

He rested his hands on his hips, amusement in his eyes. “Now, see? That’s where you’re wrong. You listened to base gossip. You didn’t trust yourself with me. If you had listened to your heart, you wouldn’t have run.” He reached out, brushing her cheek. “I’m an onion. Remember? Ask yourself what other reasons I could possibly have to want to know you.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “It wasn’t about sex?”

“Well, I’d be a bald-faced liar if I didn’t admit that I see us as one hell of a couple in bed.”

She compressed her lips, holding back a chuckle. “Correct. You would be dishonest not to admit to those thoughts.”

“Thing is, Tal, I see a lot more in you, and I did from the first day I spotted you at that swimming pool at Recreation. You interested me in ways other women haven’t, maybe because you’re a sister onion. I see such depth in you, and complexity. I want to be able to dig into those layers of yours. I can get as much enjoyment from discovering what a woman sees and feels about life as I do from how she performs in bed.”

“I’d never have thought that about you, Wyatt.”

“That’s because you never let me in, Tal. Now you have. Now I can share things with you that you didn’t want to hear before. You thought the only reason I wanted you was for your body.” He smiled. “I want that too, but I’m equally interested in your heart, your soul, how you see life. I feel here”—he touched his chest over his heart—“that you and I have more in common than we might realize. You come from an international, global family, and I come from a Texas cattle ranch, but I believe that we can cross-pollinate each other in the best of ways. I’m just a country boy and you’re a true cosmopolitan kind of gal, but I’m sure we can find places where we resonate well with one another.”

Tal stood still, absorbing his words, and in that instant, her world shifted. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad shift, or just different. She was reminded of a Turkish fable about a girl who fell down a well. She ended up in a dark, twisting tunnel, and finally found herself entering a green, hilly field. In the distance was a sultan’s white, gleaming home. Her journey was one of beauty, magic, and good things happening to her, along with some scary things.

When the girl arrived at the sultan’s gleaming palace, she met the handsome sultan, who asked for her hand in marriage. If she hadn’t fallen into the well and taken the journey, she would never have known what lay beyond its dark water.

As Tal observed this newly discovered side of Wyatt, she now likened him to the well, filled with deep, dark, unknown waters.

And what about her? Tal was unsure where these waters would lead her; she knew only that now her heart was urging her to jump into Wyatt Lockwood’s well and find out where it would lead her. If only her fear would allow her to even start on such a journey. Wyatt called to her heart, her body, and, yes, her soul. That’s why she had run from him for so long. She was unsure. But maybe the years had quelled some of the initial panic and confusion he’d inspired in her. Tal didn’t fool herself. The man wanted her in bed, beside him, plain and simple. But now she was wondering just how good a lover he was compared to his words about how he treated the woman who had his interest. There was a long distance between words and action.

CHAPTER 4

T
AL WOKE UP
feeling different . . . maybe happier? The clock next to her bed read 0600. She was due to meet Wyatt at the helicopter terminal at 0730. She was wearing a pair of light pink cotton pajamas, her black hair falling across her shoulders. What had happened last night? Tal had gone to her B-hut room feeling so damn achy and needy that she was ready to scream. She always felt a strong need for sex five days before her period, if she had one at all. Often, because of the high altitude and the brutal physical demands of her work, she would go three to four months without one. Most of the other women in the black ops community had had the same experience.

She pushed herself out of bed to head over to the women’s showers, just a short walk away in a single-story gray cinder block building. She pulled her dark blue chenille robe off a hook and shrugged it on, tying the sash. Her heart, however, was elsewhere, hovering squarely over Wyatt—and now she was even calling him by his first name!

The man knew how to manipulate women, that was for sure. That little-boy Texas grin of his had grabbed her heart, and his low, sexy voice . . . well, his voice was something else. She could see why wild mustangs would listen to him. She had too, hadn’t she?

Grimacing, Tal was glad Alexa hadn’t been around to observe their meeting last evening, because she’d have laughed herself silly watching her sister. Alexa was the exact opposite of Tal: she was warm and outgoing, making everyone feel special when she beamed her attention at them—especially men. Tal often wondered how many times Alexa could break up with a man and dive right back into the dating pool.

Tal slipped into her flip-flops and walked out the back door of the B-hut toward the showers. The rising dawn looked like pink frosting slathered across the horizon. It would be hot on the valley floor today. At least up in the Hindu Kush mountains, which soared easily to twenty thousand feet, it would be cooler. She might have had Mediterranean blood from Turkey and Greece in her DNA, but Tal preferred four seasons and loved the cooler weather. She must have gotten that from her father, Robert.

As she showered beneath the hot streams of water, Tal couldn’t get her conversation with Wyatt out of her mind. She’d even dreamed of his making love to her! She must be horny! She’d awakened throbbing and aching for release. Towel-drying her hair, she wondered if she was finally over her grief for Brian. Tal had learned that grief could linger for years after the death of a loved one. It was a process, and not one that could be hurried.

Now she found herself hungry in a new way, wanting to know more about this Texan. For years, she’d classified him as a jerk and a stalker. Then, in one night, he’d surprised the hell out of her with his depth of feeling, knowledge, and vulnerability. She’d never seen a SEAL vulnerable before. Ever. And that intrigued Tal.

As she dressed in her uniform, she focused on that last thought. The game face Wyatt had been wearing for the last three years had been gone last night, and he’d definitely been vulnerable with her. She’d never heard a man say the things he’d said, and with such candor and sincerity that her heart had actually opened up to him.

Tal was pretty good at gauging when a person lied or was blowing hot air. She’d helped run a Marine company for a year and had learned a lot about people. This man, she suspected, was different from anyone she’d ever met.

She smiled to herself as she heard her cell phone chime. Picking it up, she saw she had a text from Alexa, telling her that she was going to the chow hall and asking if they could meet there.

Tal texted back. She loved her baby sister. Alexa lit up a room like pure sunshine. She and Matt shared that same charisma, which was sorely missing in Tal. Alexa had been right: Tal was the eldest, most mature, and most responsible of the three of them. But sometimes, Tal wished she could be more like them.

In fact, sometimes she wished she were back in Kuşadası every summer with her family, like a wild mustang running free with no worries. She would just soak up the sunshine and the pure Aegean salt air, where endless blue skies met an endless blue ocean. Pushing the past away, Tal knew she had to brush her hair and teeth and then meet her sister at the chow hall.

“Hey,” Alexa called, trotting up to Tal on the sidewalk. The chow hall was only a few feet away, and it was early, so just a few people were lined up for breakfast.

Tal smiled over at Alexa. “You look well rested.”

Wrinkling her nose, Alexa said, “Matt and I got together last night over pizza and beer. Uncle Ihsan sent us more of the building’s blueprints to look over so we can choose our office spaces.” She held up her iPad. “Want to do that now?”

“After coffee,” Tal said, opening the door for her. Looking around for SEALs, she saw one or two sitting together off in a corner, their backs to the wall, but Wyatt was not among them. Tal felt a little disappointed. Her intense conversation with him had been so stimulating, she found herself looking forward to more of the same.

Alexa sat in a corner, her back to the window. Tal sat opposite her so she could keep watch on what was going on outside.

Alexa pushed the iPad toward Tal. “Dad, Uncle Pete, and Uncle John have also sent us a rough draft of the internal structure of Artemis. I’m sure you’ll want to look at it and make comments.”

“Absolutely,” Tal said, drinking her first cup of coffee. She turned the iPad around, reading the email from her dad while finishing off the coffee. Alexa eagerly dug into a ham and cheese omelet, hash browns, and homemade biscuits.

“I’m going to like being the director of the Safe House Foundation!” Alexa beamed, her eyes turning wistful with possibilities. She had a lot of good ideas for that section of the Delos charities.

“Yes, and rightfully so. I’ll be CEO, which I wanted. Matt gets the KNR—kidnapping and ransom—division. Yes, these are just the right placements,” Tal said, digging into her steaming oatmeal.

Alexa frowned. “Looks like Dad wants me to handle Safe House Foundation, which is no problem. But I worry about Matt having to take over all the other logistics, plus KNR duties. I think that’s a bit much for one person to handle, don’t you?”

Tal studied the other email. “Yes. It’s way too much for one person.” She looked up at Alexa. “And the Safe House Foundation might be too much for you, too.”

“Well, like Uncle Ihsan said, we can always hire good people to take over if we need them. I think at this stage Dad and our uncles want to identify what we’re comfortable handling and what we’re not willing to take on.”

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