Zulu, p.20
Zulu, page 20
Out of time and short on options, I didn’t bother asking her one last time what the hell was going on. Instead, I laid out exactly who the fuck I was.
“I don’t have an Ivy League education, and I sure as hell didn’t pass the bar, but you spend enough time downrange hunting terrorists and high-value targets, you learn a few things about human nature. One, everyone lies. Two, money, ego and power are the trifecta of motivating factors. I’m not accusing you of anything, and I can appreciate a guarded woman. I’m also on board with parts of your life being private. I can even get behind a couple reasons why you hired Tomar.” Taking a corner, I glanced at her. “But listen to what I’m about to tell you and listen hard, because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t do games, and I don’t deal with bullshit. You want a Tomer you can pull by the strings, have at it. You want me, then understand I won’t be sidelined. Also understand, I’m not the type of man who lets his woman call all the shots. I’m dominant, Parisa. In and out of the bedroom, but I think you already know that.” Pulling into the marina, I parked. “I think it’s why you came to me on that cliff in Santorini. You didn’t see something you wanted. You saw what you needed.”
Head down, she stared at her lap, but I fucking saw it. Shorter breaths, hands clasped, racing pulse. Same as the first time I touched her, same as at dinner—her body was giving her away. This woman wanted what I could give her, and I could practically taste her need. But I was done with the bullshit.
Forcing her hand, I threw down the gauntlet. “That said, you want me to walk, say the word. I’ll respect your wishes, and you won’t hear from me again.”
She didn’t fucking hesitate. “I didn’t say that.”
“Look at me when you speak to me,” I demanded.
Instantly lifting her head, she met my gaze.
“Try that again,” I ordered with complete fucking dominance because I wasn’t only forcing her hand, I was testing her.
With the lights of the marina illuminating her face, her throat moved with a swallow. Then the woman did exactly as I commanded. “I don’t want this to end.”
I tipped my chin in acknowledgment, but I wasn’t finished. “You understand everything I said?”
“Yes.”
“You need me to slow it down?”
She blinked.
“Simple question, Parisa. Answer it.”
She started to look away.
“Eyes on me,” I reminded her.
She gave me her dark gaze, but there was uncertainty in it. “Maybe.”
“Explain.”
“I…” She inhaled, then spoke in a rush. “I don’t know what your version of slow or fast is. I’m not even sure what my comfort level would be either way because you’re unlike any man I have ever met, and I’ve never been in this…situation.”
No experience.
I knew it.
Fuck, that made my cock stand at attention and my mouth water to get a taste of her. “To be clear, this isn’t a situation, and I’m not after a single night of fucking. I’m pursuing you, Parisa. Everything I said, I meant. But I recognize you need breathing room to take me in. I gave you my word earlier.” Pausing before I reiterated what I’d said at dinner, I made damn sure she was paying attention before I gave her fair warning of what was coming. “I’m not touching you this evening, but the next time I see you, I’m not making that promise. I will put my hands on you.”
Her lips parted with a sharp inhale, heat colored her cheeks, and she dropped her head.
Using a knuckle, I tipped her chin, bringing her eyes back to me because I wasn’t finished. “My hands on you do not necessarily mean penetrative sex.” Already at the edge of my control, I was hard as fuck just from talking about what I wanted from this woman. “I’ll make that decision when I know you’re ready, even if that means pushing your boundaries.” And fuck did I plan on pushing them, every last one. “But I will never, ever hurt you or disrespect you. Are you unclear on anything I’ve said?”
“No,” she whispered.
I used language she would get. “Any objections?”
“No,” she barely breathed.
Rotating my hand to fully grasp her chin and jaw, I played dirty, but honest. “I’m going to need to hear you say that again, this time with conviction.”
Her shoulders dropped, her muscles relaxed and the tension in her posture took a backseat. Then, sexy as fucking hell, her voice turned to breathy need. “No objections.”
“Good, Kitten.” I stroked her cheek once in reward. Then I released her and cut to the last issue I needed to address. “I want security on you, especially when I’m not around. Having been a part of Taralas’s world, the boat, the minimal crew—all of it makes you a prime K&R target.”
Her posture went rigid again. “K&R,” she repeated.
“Kidnap and ransom.” It accounted for more than half of AES’s business these days.
“Yes, I know what the term refers to.”
“Then you understand why you should have a protection detail on you twenty-four seven.”
“I have security.”
“Not enough, and not the kind trained specifically to protect you from that scenario.” I scanned the marina for her so-called security but didn’t see either deckhand.
She was quiet a moment, then her inhale was deep, and suddenly, she sounded tired. “I will think about it.”
“I can have a team here in less than twelve hours. Tomer can keep you a couple miles offshore until they land.”
“Thank you. I will consider it.”
Consider. Shit. Not a no, but not a yes, either. I gave it one more try. “This is for your safety, Parisa.”
“I understand all of the talking points of your argument, and while they may have some validity, I think you are misinformed. No one with the surname Taralas would pay a ransom for my safe return if I were to be kidnapped.”
Fuck me. “I don’t do talking points, and I don’t argue. I’m stating facts, and you know it. A kidnapper won’t give a damn if there’s a ninety-nine percent chance of no payout. That one percent chance will be motivation enough.” My cell vibrated in my pocket.
“I understand what you’re saying, but I disagree. I said I will think about the extra security.”
Jesus. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman. Wait.” Getting out of the SUV, I glanced at my cell.
Whiskey: Take off window closing. We need to get in the air.
I fired off a response.
Me: On my way.
Pocketing my cell, I was about to open her door when I heard Levi come up behind me.
I didn’t glance back to confirm it was him. I didn’t need to. Every soldier had a signature. The good ones learned what theirs was and corrected it. Levi’s was his gait. It was uneven. Slightly favoring his left leg, knee injury, shrapnel, GSW, didn’t know, didn’t care. He was a good shot, but the tell only reconfirmed why I wanted a better team on Parisa.
“Levi,” I acknowledged.
“Marina’s clear.” He kept to my six. “I’ll cover you down the dock.”
“Copy.” I opened her door and held out my hand. “Kitten?”
She glanced over my shoulder, but she didn’t comment at Levi’s presence, and he smartly didn’t say shit to her. “Thank you.” She took my hand.
I walked her back to her boat where fucking Tomer was waiting outside on the main deck.
Tipping my chin at her prick captain, I glanced back at Levi. “Get Tomer on the bridge. I’ll make sure she gets inside safely.” I turned to her as Levi boarded. “He been giving you any problems?”
Her dark eyes studied me a beat. “No.”
In that moment, staring down at her, I knew all those years ago when I’d enlisted that I’d made the right call. Having been on the opposite side of this scenario as a kid, watching my father walk away for deployment too many times to count, it’d been hell.
But this?
This was fucking torture.
I didn’t want to walk away from this woman.
Brave, poised, self-contained, she was so damn beautiful she was lucky I hadn’t met her years ago. I would’ve broken my only rule. Not only would I have taken her and given her my name, but I would’ve put her in this exact same scenario over and over again. Worse, I would’ve tried like hell to knock her up every goddamn time I was on leave.
One night and one date, and I already knew—she was a once-in-a-lifetime woman.
Taking her face in both hands, I gave her real. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Her chest rose with a sharp inhale, but her voice came steady. “You have a flight.”
“You have a boat.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Trying like hell not to kiss you.”
Her small hand grasped my wrist and held like she needed me. “Zane,” she barely breathed.
Fuuuck. “Woman.” She was killing me. “Do you know that’s the first time you’ve reached for me?” Did she know I was about to lose my goddamn mind over it?
“I—”
“Rhetorical,” I warned, brushing my thumb over her sexy, full lips before I kissed her once on the forehead. “You’re getting on board now.” Releasing her only to grab her by the waist, I lifted her onto her fucking super yacht. “Get your sweet ass inside before I decide to miss my flight tonight.”
She turned toward the stairs leading up to the main deck, and the engines fired up.
“Kitten,” I called.
She looked over her shoulder.
“Turn your cell on tomorrow morning.” I made a mental note to contact November to make sure my call to her tomorrow would be encrypted.
No curve of her lips, no tells in her gaze, her expression was locked. “It’s safe?”
“I’ll make sure it is.”
She gave me only a half nod. “Goodnight, Mr. Silas.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
She retreated into the main salon, Levi and the other deckhand pulled in the mooring lines and the boat left the berth.
I headed for the airport.
Parisa
The text came in one minute before seven a.m., local time.
Your Favorite SEAL: Good morning, Beautiful. How’s my favorite Kitten?
I read it a second time, lingering on his third and last word as heat flushed my cheeks.
Before I lost my nerve, I typed a response.
Me: A smart woman would ask who this is.
An even smarter woman would have checked the contact list after he’d had my phone in his possession weeks ago when he’d uploaded that app, but it’d never occurred to me that he’d program his number in, let alone the name he would use.
His reply was almost instant.
You’re Favorite SEAL: You better not be questioning the intelligence of my favorite Kitten.
Before I could respond, another text came through.
Your Favorite SEAL: And for the record, it’s me, sweetheart. Just like the programmed contact says—Your Favorite SEAL.
Me: I know several SEALs.
Your Favorite SEAL: Only one’s your favorite.
Me: How do you know?
Before he replied, a picture came through.
I sucked in a sharp breath, and this time, it wasn’t my cheeks that flushed with heat.
Curled against his muscular body, my hair splayed all over his hard chest, my arm shamelessly across his chiseled abs as I held on to him—the photo was of me and him in my bed while I was sound asleep. The picture taken from his perspective, as if he had held the phone by his face to capture the exact viewpoint he had, his left arm was cradled around my back, and his fingers were woven through my hair like he was caressing the long, dark strands.
Pinpricks of awareness tingled across my neck and shoulders as I stared at the pretty, muted light casting across the image from the first rays of that morning’s sunrise over three weeks ago as it had crested the horizon line.
The image didn’t show his handsome face, but it gave me a photo to go with the memory. The length of his long legs stretched out on my bed, the expensive drape of his custom suit pants as they strained over his impossibly muscular thighs, his crossed ankles and bare feet—all of it struck me now as it had that night—it was so seductively intimate.
I’d never seen a sexier picture.
My cell pinged with a new text.
Your Favorite SEAL: Oh, I know, Kitten.
Heat flushed across my entire body.
Me: Do you refer to all women as felines?
Your Favorite SEAL: First, I’m insulted. Second, you’re my only Kitten, woman. Third, are you jealous?
The flush intensified, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I liked what he’d said, even though I didn’t respond to it. Instead, I did what I always did. I diverted.
Me: You’re up early.
I thought about changing the name he’d programmed for himself, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
Your Favorite SEAL: Nice evasion tactic, Kitten. We’ll talk about that later, but for now, I’m letting it go.
Another text came in before I could reply.
Your Favorite SEAL: And not early where I am, beautiful.
Me: Where are you?
I shamelessly asked because I had been thinking about it all night. I was leaving Saint-Tropez, he was leaving on a plane, and neither of us had said where we were going or when or if we’d see each other again. All of the…uncertainty, and the almost casual way he’d simply said goodnight—it’d kept me awake until my eyes grew heavy only a couple hours before dawn.
But as soon as I sent the text asking, I regretted it.
He’d said I should speak my mind with him, but I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to play the artful dance of seduction, let alone date a man like him. I’d never dated. I didn’t even know if I had a right to ask where he was. What if he was with another woman on another assignment, rescuing her from her life and making her fall for his enigmatic smile and translucent hazel eyes?
What if he was with another woman who had experience and who gave him unfettered access to her body while she was being real with him?
The very thought made a pain I’d never experienced lance across my chest and settle deep in my heart just as a new text came in.
You’re Favorite SEAL: I could tell you, but I’d rather show you. Hang on…
A moment later, a glorious picture came through. Bright orange and red hues fading to violet and lavender as the sun set high above the earth’s surface, sinking into a plush cushion of white, fluffy clouds.
Taking a deep breath, glancing across the expanse of my master suite to my own glorious view, I reminded myself of who I was and who I wanted to be. Then I typed a reply.
Me: It’s beautiful, but should you be texting and driving?
Your Favorite SEAL: I’m flying, sweetheart. Not the same thing. Touched that you care, though.
I stared at the last sentence.
Did I? Care?
Your Favorite SEAL: I can practically see your expression right now, beautiful. The answer is yes.
Of course, I did. I cared too much. But I still hadn’t heard from Ashraf, and when I’d called his office a few moments before Zane’s text, the line had gone straight to a generic voice mail.
Me: I did not say anything.
Your Favorite SEAL: You didn’t have to. Stop overthinking this. Tell me where you are today.
Dominant, commanding, exacting, Zane was everything I never imagined I wanted, let alone needed. Especially after growing up with my father, then being married to Konstantinos and living with him and his sons on the Taralas estate. But there was a major distinction between Zane and the previous men in my life, so much so that it felt wrong to even think of him in the same breath as my past. Zane was neither greedy nor cruel. Arrogant? Maybe, but he was nothing like my father or Konstantinos. He was honorable.
Your Favorite SEAL: Too much ocean surrounding you to tell me where you are? Should I check in with Tomer?
I quickly typed a reply.
Me: I know where we are.
I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but I had been growing more wary of Isaiah. Especially when Zane was around.
Your Favorite SEAL: Send me a pic, gorgeous.
Pushing the covers aside, I slid out of the four thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets, opened the slider and stepped onto the balcony. The salty breeze mild, the morning sun bright with promise, the water so blue it could’ve been a sea of lapis, I snapped a photo.
Then I stared at it instead of the magnificent view in front of me because all of a sudden, the wide-open ocean didn’t look as beautiful in reality as it did through the lens of a photo attached to a texted conversation with a man who was a million miles away.
Not merely a man. A former SEAL, a mercenary and a pilot. A warrior dedicated to duty and honor, and I was lying to him.
Oh, God, what had I gotten myself into?
My cell pinged with a new text, startling me out of my downward spiral.
Your Favorite SEAL: Still waiting.
I sent the photo.
A moment later, another text came through.
Your Favorite SEAL: That pic’s missing something, Kitten.
Despite this being a bad idea, despite him being everything I had ever wanted in a soul mate, but knowing better than to think life was ever merciful, I still flushed. Because that was what this man did to me.
He made me reckless.
He made me want to believe in hope.
He made me want to tell him everything.
But this was it.
This was the precipice.
This was the point where I could delete his number and his app and turn off my phone. This was the moment where I could be selfless. Honorable.
My gaze dropped to the ocean’s undulating, cerulean surface where the Solace cut through the swells with sharp precision, leaving frothy bubbles and disquiet sea spray in its wake.
