be fun for a few hours.” She shrugged. “But not now. Not when Emily’s out there somewhere, counting on me.”
* * *
Yeah, she was full of shit. Because he was beautiful, his skin golden and hot, and she’d nearly jerked her fingers away as they sizzled from that simple touch when she’d yanked his shirt up. God, what had she been thinking to touch him like that?
She’d just wanted to unnerve him a little bit, but she’d unnerved herself instead.
Victoria shoved her hair off her shoulder and concentrated on the flat desert sand in front of them. They’d been riding for less than two hours now, and already her body was keyed up, like a lightning rod that had taken a strike and had nowhere to discharge it. Her skin sizzled with energy, and her fingers tapped a relentless beat on her leg as she held her knee and focused her attention ahead of the car.
“Tell me about her,” he said, and her head swiveled around to look at him. He glanced at her but then turned his attention back to the road. His big hands gripped the wheel steadily, and she found that she could almost relax with him. Almost, but not quite. She hadn’t trusted Jonah as far as she could throw him, and he’d driven like shit. Her partner before him had left after a month, unable to handle the heat—in more ways than one—and eager to get back to Iowa, or somewhere equally normal and reasonably safe.
None of her partners had ever asked about her life. Oh, some of them had expressed an interest in getting horizontal with her, much as Nick had—but there was something about his suggestions that made her belly spark and her pussy clench and her breath shorten. The others had simply pissed her off.
She was so used to holding her past close that she almost told him to fuck off. And then she decided what the hell. What did it matter? He was risking his life by being here, the same as she was, and while he was doing it for his colonel and a cause, he was still doing it when he didn’t have to. It could have been anyone else in his unit—but it was Nick Brandon, and at least she sort of knew him.
Besides, part of her wanted him to understand.
“She used to be a sweet kid. Open, trusting, desperately seeking love and belonging.” Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “We were orphaned, you see. My grandfather took us in—but then he died and we went into foster care. It didn’t work out so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. No one harmed us. But we were… unwanted, I think. Emily felt it worse than I did because she was younger. I still remember our parents. She doesn’t. Gramps was all we had—and then he was gone.”
“You think bin Yusuf made her feel as if she belonged somewhere?”
Victoria swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him know how much she blamed herself. If she’d been there, instead of in the Army…
“He must have. He’s very… charismatic. He’s obsessed with Americans—or was, anyway. Completely gets the culture and psyche.”
“You think he singled her out.”
“I don’t really know. I wasn’t there.” She ran her hands through her hair, scrubbed her scalp as if she could scrub away the bad memories and the guilt. “I joined the Army, looking for a way out, you know? I wanted the security and the college fund. I wanted to make her my dependent, help her get clean. But she took up with Zaran, and that was the end of everything. The Army didn’t appreciate the connection to a radical terrorist, apparently.”
He was silent for a long moment. “So you left the Army and ended up here.”
“I have a skill that’s useful. I’ll never get to use the G.I. Bill now, but with the money Ian pays me, I’ll be able to take care of Emily and maybe go to college someday too. It was the best option I had.”
“I’m not judging you, Victoria.”
“You already did that,
* * *
Yeah, she was full of shit. Because he was beautiful, his skin golden and hot, and she’d nearly jerked her fingers away as they sizzled from that simple touch when she’d yanked his shirt up. God, what had she been thinking to touch him like that?
She’d just wanted to unnerve him a little bit, but she’d unnerved herself instead.
Victoria shoved her hair off her shoulder and concentrated on the flat desert sand in front of them. They’d been riding for less than two hours now, and already her body was keyed up, like a lightning rod that had taken a strike and had nowhere to discharge it. Her skin sizzled with energy, and her fingers tapped a relentless beat on her leg as she held her knee and focused her attention ahead of the car.
“Tell me about her,” he said, and her head swiveled around to look at him. He glanced at her but then turned his attention back to the road. His big hands gripped the wheel steadily, and she found that she could almost relax with him. Almost, but not quite. She hadn’t trusted Jonah as far as she could throw him, and he’d driven like shit. Her partner before him had left after a month, unable to handle the heat—in more ways than one—and eager to get back to Iowa, or somewhere equally normal and reasonably safe.
None of her partners had ever asked about her life. Oh, some of them had expressed an interest in getting horizontal with her, much as Nick had—but there was something about his suggestions that made her belly spark and her pussy clench and her breath shorten. The others had simply pissed her off.
She was so used to holding her past close that she almost told him to fuck off. And then she decided what the hell. What did it matter? He was risking his life by being here, the same as she was, and while he was doing it for his colonel and a cause, he was still doing it when he didn’t have to. It could have been anyone else in his unit—but it was Nick Brandon, and at least she sort of knew him.
Besides, part of her wanted him to understand.
“She used to be a sweet kid. Open, trusting, desperately seeking love and belonging.” Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “We were orphaned, you see. My grandfather took us in—but then he died and we went into foster care. It didn’t work out so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. No one harmed us. But we were… unwanted, I think. Emily felt it worse than I did because she was younger. I still remember our parents. She doesn’t. Gramps was all we had—and then he was gone.”
“You think bin Yusuf made her feel as if she belonged somewhere?”
Victoria swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him know how much she blamed herself. If she’d been there, instead of in the Army…
“He must have. He’s very… charismatic. He’s obsessed with Americans—or was, anyway. Completely gets the culture and psyche.”
“You think he singled her out.”
“I don’t really know. I wasn’t there.” She ran her hands through her hair, scrubbed her scalp as if she could scrub away the bad memories and the guilt. “I joined the Army, looking for a way out, you know? I wanted the security and the college fund. I wanted to make her my dependent, help her get clean. But she took up with Zaran, and that was the end of everything. The Army didn’t appreciate the connection to a radical terrorist, apparently.”
He was silent for a long moment. “So you left the Army and ended up here.”
“I have a skill that’s useful. I’ll never get to use the G.I. Bill now, but with the money Ian pays me, I’ll be able to take care of Emily and maybe go to college someday too. It was the best option I had.”
“I’m not judging you, Victoria.”
“You already did that,
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