Elite Ops Complete Series Page 6

  “Rory said the apartment over the garage was available.” His voice was guttural, low. “I’ll store my gear and finish this bastard’s truck myself or I can kill him now. Your choice.”

  And he meant it.

  Sabella shook her head in confusion as the BMW started up behind her, the tires screaming on its exit from the lot.

  “Why?” she finally whispered, her voice hoarse as she tried to make sense of it all. Why this, why now? Why had fate thrown someone in her path guaranteed to destroy her, just when she was finally rebuilding her life?

  “Choose.”

  She released his wrist, realizing she was still gripping it with a strength she hadn’t known she was capable of.

  Finger by finger, she forced herself to let him go. She couldn’t answer him, she couldn’t choose, but when she got her hands on Rory she was going to kill him.

  Ignoring the shocked and surprised faces around her, she turned and moved slowly back to the garage. She had a job to do, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, let this interfere.

  She didn’t need this.

  She sat back down on the creeper and let it roll her back beneath the car she had been working on. A few more little tweaks and it should be finished. Just a little bit more.

  She picked up the wrench on the cement floor beside her and went to work. If tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and into her hair, then she ignored them. If the pain tightened her chest until it felt as though her heart were being ripped apart, then she ignored it.

  Today, there was work to be done. When everyone else was gone, she’d pay Noah Blake for the day and send him on his way. It would hurt. She needed the money and the bank payment was due next week. If she had to, if there was no other choice, then she would sell some more of the jewelry her mother had left her to cover the rest of the payment.

  One thing was for sure. Noah was going to have to go. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t handle her instant response to him, and she couldn’t handle the conflicting emotions that raged through her at the sight of him. There was something familiar and yet something too dangerous about him for her to get a handle on. Something about him that had made her feel again. Something more than the regret she had resigned herself to three years before. She had finished grieving three years ago; sometimes, now, she just regretted.

  She didn’t notice the sob that tore from her chest at the thought, but the man standing by the car heard it. Heard it, and hated it.

  Noah could still feel the rage coursing through him, burning through his mind like a haze of red. The sight of Mike, the sound of him, the vicious words that had poured from his lips when he spoke to Sabella. Noah had lost his mind. Even now, he wanted the other man dead. A lifetime of history, of friendship, was over that quickly. As far Noah was concerned, Mike was living on borrowed time.

  He glanced down at the ground, and the sight of Sabella’s legs bent, feet braced on the floor, knees raised against the fender of the car, sent another sort of fury surging through him.

  She had no business under there. No matter how damned sexy she looked with her jeans stained with oil and a smear of it on her chin and her cheek.

  She was killing herself. Noah hadn’t missed the dark circles under her eyes, the weight she had lost, the haunted depths of her misty gray eyes. This wasn’t the woman he had left behind. There was no makeup on her surprisingly youthful face, her once honey-streaked light blond hair was a mix of burnished golds and dark blond now. He hadn’t even known she colored it. How had he not known that his wife dyed her hair?

  He brought to mind the memory of her naked body. How he had loved her body, curvy and warm, fitting against him perfectly. The bare soft flesh between her thighs had been devoid of curls, so he’d had no idea what the natural color should be.

  And God, she looked young. The makeup she had worn had made her look older, more experienced. He knew she had been eighteen when they married, and he was suddenly desperately aware of how young she had really been.

  At twenty-six, she still looked like a kid without the shield of cosmetics to add maturity to her still unlined face. But the grief was there. It was thick and dark in her eyes, in the tightly controlled line of her lips, the stiff set of her shoulders before she disappeared beneath the car.

  He drew in a deep hard breath as the mechanics stared back at him, watching him as Sabella disappeared beneath the car. Their expressions were wary, part relief, part concern. They weren’t the same men who had worked here when he left, they were unknowns and unknowns were always the enemy. And he would never forget that only one, the youngest, had stepped forward to protect Sabella while the others stood back.

  “She’s not alone anymore,” he growled, knowing the fury that roughened his voice now. “Get your asses in there and finish the work now, or get your stuff and get out. I want every vehicle in that damned bay finished before any of you go home tonight, or the only one I want to see in the morning is this one.” He stabbed his finger imperiously toward Toby. “And your ass belongs in the office, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Toby swallowed tightly, his brown eyes flickering in indecision toward the garage where Sabella had disappeared. It was obvious he was more concerned about leaving her undefended than he was about his job.

  “Go, boy,” he snarled. “We’ll discuss details later.” His gaze swung to the other men, watching as they shifted nervously, their oil-streaked expressions and wary eyes staying trained on him.

  “Make your choice now,” he snapped. “And make sure you make the right one.”

  He didn’t wait for their decisions. He made for the garage, striding straight to the line of clipboards on the workstation and grabbing the first one. It was time to get to work.

  He wasn’t fooling himself; after the others had left, Sabella would let that temper he knew she had, erupt. He’d only seen it once before in their marriage. The day he had made the mistake of telling her she couldn’t do something. She had taught him fast and hard exactly what happened when he tried to control her.

  Control came naturally to SEALs. It was a part of who they were and what made them so efficient. So it wasn’t unexpected that the night she had arranged to meet some of her girlfriends for drinks and dinner, he had told her she couldn’t go. He wanted her home with him. He’d been horny, and he wanted his wife. He didn’t want her at the local watering hole together with a bunch of women and the men there lusting after her.

  She’d stared back at him silently for long moments then continued to inform him where she would be and when she would be home.

  Dammit, Bella, you can stay home tonight. With me.

  He’d barely ducked in time to miss the salt shaker that had been aimed a little too close to his head. Then his sweet, soft-spoken little Southern angel had erupted.

  Flushed, furious, she had proceeded to lay down the law regarding their relationship, and by time she stalked out of the house, ass twitching beneath her jeans like an enraged little hen, he’d had his tail tucked between his legs despite the fact that he had informed her to just stay the night with her damned friends. He’d be fine without her.

  Two o’clock that morning, he’d driven around town until he found her car, parked at the house of one of those friends. He’d carried his tipsy little wife out of the house, put her in his truck, and driven her home. And he’d never made that mistake again.

  And now, after hearing that muted, smothered little sound from beneath the car, coming from the woman he wondered if he had even known as his wife, he realized that there was a chance Sabella had held as much back from him as he had held back from her.

  Because he hadn’t had nearly enough of her before he had “died.” He hadn’t touched her in the ways he’d wanted to, even then. The darkness that filled him had always been waiting for an outlet, he realized. And now it was focused on one, tiny, too independent little woman. A woman who deserved far better than she was about to get.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was closing on s
even that evening, the brilliance of the sun was fading and easing over the mountains as the mechanics left, staring back at Noah, as though afraid to leave her there with him.

  At least the sheriff hadn’t shown up, which meant Mike wasn’t pressing charges. Yet. His truck had been delivered to the bank while he was still there, and if luck was on her side, she wouldn’t have to deal with him again for a while.

  Noah Blake, on the other hand, she was more than ready to deal with. The blood had pumped furiously through her veins all day, leaving her nerves heightened, a feeling almost like excitement digging sharp claws into her chest.

  He had worked hard, steadily, and kept the other men working faster. But she didn’t need him there. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t need him interfering with the structured, ordered existence she had created for herself. And she didn’t want the excitement or the feeling of tension she could feel tightening inside her.

  The men working for her would accept taking orders from her eventually or she would do as she had done the past three years. Fire their asses and hire others. She’d fired plenty of them since taking over, another here and there didn’t make a difference to her.

  Toby delayed as long as he could until Sabella had to push him out the door before turning to face Noah. She jerked the money bag from the desk and shoved it in her purse before slinging the leather bag over her shoulder and glaring back at him.

  This was it. He could get the hell right back out of her life now and she could stop feeling so alive.

  “When you see Rory, tell him I want to talk to him. Immediately,” she snapped. “And if he isn’t back to work tomorrow, then as far as I’m concerned he doesn’t have a job any more than you have one. I won’t have a maniac working in my garage and attacking my customers.” She held a hand up as he started to speak. “Whether they deserve it or not.”

  He stared back at her, his eyes raging, wild, twisting with color in an expression that could have been carved from stone.

  His gaze flicked over her body and she flushed. She could feel her own hardened nipples beneath her shirt and bra. She could feel the flesh between her thighs tingling and she hated it. She hated feeling that and she hated him for making her feel it.

  Her gaze flickered to the parking lot as a vehicle pulled up and she almost grimaced. She’d forgotten about Duncan. Nice, safe, easygoing Duncan Sykes with his dark blond hair, brown eyes, and steady smile. He wasn’t dangerous. He didn’t have the power to destroy her sanity or her self-control.

  “I’ll be here in the morning.” His lips thinned at the sound of a car door closing. “With Rory.”

  Sabella smiled at the thought of getting her hands on Rory. Oh, her brother-in-law was in some serious trouble.

  “You do that,” she told him softly as Duncan approached the door, a frown on his face. “And be ready to ride out the same way you rode in. Now, thanks to you, I’m late, and I’m not ready for my date. You deserve to be fired for that alone.”

  She put a smile on her face as the door opened and Duncan stepped in. And of course, she compared the two men. Not that there was much comparison. Noah was hands down harder, tougher, sexier, more vibrant and imposing than Duncan would ever be.

  “You’re not ready.” Duncan grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes despite the curious glance he flicked to the other man. “Why did I have a feeling you’d forget our date if things got busy?”

  “Because you know me.” She grinned back, aware that her amusement was more faked than she would have liked.

  Her gaze flicked back to Noah.

  “New employee?” Duncan asked, turning to Noah as though he weren’t a rabid maniac on the loose and holding out his hand. “I’m Duncan Sykes. I own the electronics store in town.”

  A shiver of foreboding raced through Sabella at Noah’s smile. It was the chill in his eyes, the flash of teeth, that warned her he wasn’t nearly as friendly he was pretending to be.

  “Noah Blake,” he introduced himself.

  Duncan glanced back at Sabella.

  “It’s good to meet you.” Duncan nodded then smiled back at Sabella. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry and get dressed. Do you need me to lock up?”

  Oh, she really didn’t think so.

  “Everything’s ready, I just have to lock the door behind us.” She turned to Noah, her eyes narrowing as he continued to stare at Duncan. “Noah, I need to lock up.”

  A flash of dread raced up her spine as he turned back to her. His eyes were flat and cold, his lips unsmiling, his expression too still. Too calm.

  “Have a nice night,” he told her quietly before leaving the office and moving to the black, wicked Harley parked outside the garage.

  Sabella was barely aware of the breath she had been holding until it released silently and she turned back to Duncan. “You’ll have to enjoy a glass of wine while I get ready. Time got away from me today.”

  “You’re always worth waiting on,” he told her as they stepped from the office and she locked the doors. “Besides, we’ve been seeing each other long enough, Belle, that I know to build in time when I make reservations.”

  Sabella grimaced. She was always late. She had never been late for anything until her husband’s death. It seemed as though she had been running late ever since. Trying somehow to go back rather than forward.

  As she slid into the passenger seat of Duncan’s car for the ride up to the house, she couldn’t help but notice that Noah was still there. He was bent next to the Harley, fiddling with something, no doubt being nosy, because his gaze wasn’t on the bike, it was on them.

  “I’m going to assume Rory hired him,” Duncan stated as they drove past the Harley.

  “You assume right,” she breathed out roughly.

  Rory was always pulling in strays. Thankfully, they never seemed to stay long. She had a feeling she was going to have trouble getting rid of this one though.

  Nothing else was said as they pulled into the driveway in front of her house.

  “Come on in.” She moved quickly from the car, house keys in hand. “You know where the wine is, go ahead and get a glass, I’ll get showered and be down in half an hour.”

  She opened the door and rushed in, making for the stairs at a quick pace.

  “I’m timing you,” he said, laughing. “Twenty bucks says it will take an hour.”

  “You’re on.” She threw him a quick smile, but ducked her head, knowing that smile wouldn’t reach her eyes.

  She couldn’t stop the feeling that somehow, some way, she was being unfaithful to the husband who had died more than six years ago. She had fought that feeling for a year, ever since the first date she had accepted with Duncan. The first time she had promised herself she was going to get over Nathan’s death.

  Each time she and Duncan left the house she had shared with Nathan, she had felt the queasy, sick feeling that she was betraying the man she loved. The man who had loved her.

  It was insane. She had to assure herself daily that Nathan would have wanted her to be happy, that he wasn’t staring down from heaven, feeling hurt and angry because she had turned her back on what they had shared.

  She hadn’t turned her back, she told herself as she stepped beneath the shower. He had been a warrior, and he hadn’t returned home. He was dead and gone, and she was still alive. Wasn’t she?

  Noah had a meeting to go to, an operational briefing that he knew he should already be heading to. Instead, he was standing in the tree line outside the home he used to share with Sabella, a pair of military binoculars in his hands, staring at the house.

  No matter how much he had bitched while they were married, Sabella still left the blinds and curtains open until dark. They were open now.

  Duncan Sykes was in the kitchen and, be damned, but he was opening a bottle of wine. His lips tightened. That was his wine, no matter who he was or wasn’t. He’d spent years building his collection of wines, rarely opening a bottle, enjoying the sight of the little wine cell
ar in the basement as it filled up.

  Now that son of a bitch was opening one of his best bottles and pouring a glass. By God, if he caught that bastard in his bed, with his wife, there would be murder.

  He blew out a hard breath. Wasn’t his business, he reminded himself.

  The hell it wasn’t. Jagged, forked spikes of pure fury buried themselves in his brain as he felt the control he had built over the past years beginning to crack. If Noah saw Duncan touch her, he wouldn’t be able to control the rage.

  Noah was aware of Rory coming up behind him, following the order Noah had given him when he called from the garage. His brother wasn’t happy. And that was just too damned bad, because Noah had never in his life been further from “happy.”

  “How long has this shit been going on?” he bit out, keeping his eyes on the house rather than glancing at Rory.

  “What shit?” Rory eyed him warily.

  Noah flicked his hand at the house. “Sykes.”

  “ ’Bout a year.” Rory flopped down at the base of a tree and yawned as though he were safe.

  Noah flicked a look down at him. “And you didn’t stop it, why?”

  Rory looked up at him in surprise before scratching his cheek thoughtfully. “Hell, probably because he’s the only one of the men she’s gone out with that I actually like.”

  Noah’s jaw clenched. “How many have there been?”

  Other men. Not just one man. Other men had gone out with his wife. Stared at her smile, lusted after her. He couldn’t imagine one of them touching her, or he’d have to kill them all.

  “Just a few.” Rory shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “They never last long. A few dates here and there. Then she’ll get all guilty feeling, wear her wedding band for a while, and bury up here in the house when she’s not working before she forces herself to try again. She hasn’t worn her wedding band in over a year now though.”