Читать книгу Black Ops Warrior - Amelia Autin - Страница 11

Chapter 1

Savannah Whitman stood on the ramparts of the Great Wall of China, staring up at the sea of humanity ascending and descending the steep incline to the top of this section of the wall in the Badaling Hills north of Beijing. It was a work day, so she couldn’t understand why so many people were here. This was not the way she’d envisioned it would be when she’d spent thousands of dollars on this guided tour. She’d picked this specific tour in large part because the pictures in the brochure made it appear as if she’d be mostly on her own as she crossed several items off her bucket list of things she just had to see once in her lifetime—the Great Wall and the Forbidden City in Beijing, the terracotta warriors in Xi’an. And the Yangtze, of course, the longest river in the world that began and ended in the same country.

She sighed softly as she was jostled by those eager to pass her and begin the climb to the top of this well-preserved section of the fabled wall. She wanted to go up there, too. She did. But...

Coward, she jeered at herself. Coward, because she didn’t deal well with crowds. She’d thought she’d be practically alone on the Great Wall, with only thoughts of her parents to keep her company, but now her breath came in little panicked spurts as she tried to fight back her enochlophobia. You spent good money to see the Great Wall, she reminded herself. You can do this. You can! Just take a deep breath. Lots of deep breaths. Then put one foot in front of the other and climb up there, damn it!

But the unreasoning fear had such a hold on her she couldn’t move. Not even to escape by struggling through the crowd to the gondolas that had brought her and the rest of her tour group this far.

Then from above her head she heard a warm, deep voice speaking English. “Just breathe,” the man said gently as he herded her away from the crowd and against the stone railing. “Breathe deeply.”

When he said that, she realized somehow she was no longer being pushed, bumped or elbowed. Her rescuer had used his body to create a tiny space for her in the crowd, and she closed her eyes in thankfulness. Yes, her back was pressed against an ungiving stone wall that had been built millennia ago, but at least she wasn’t hemmed in by people. And the man wasn’t squashed up against her, either—some distance separated them, as if he knew she couldn’t bear to be touched at this moment.

She opened her eyes and stared at a broad chest wearing a light, khaki-colored jacket. And on the jacket she spotted a familiar badge, exactly like the one she was wearing but with his name on it instead of hers—he was one of her tour group. “Oh, thank God.”

He must have heard her fervent whisper because a laugh rumbled out of him. But she knew instinctively he wasn’t laughing at her. At least, he wasn’t laughing at her fear. He was laughing because she’d amused him somehow.

Her eyes focused on the name written on his badge. Niall Johnson. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” she managed, now that she could breathe again. Then her gaze moved up. And up. And up. Until she reached his face and she blinked. Holy cow! she thought. How was it she hadn’t noticed him before? Because beneath the shaggy light brown hair was a face that was indubitably memorable, with nearly classical features. And his eyes... His eyes were such a deep, dark brown she could almost see herself reflected in their depths.

“Niall,” he said now. “Just call me Niall. And you’re...” He peered down at her nametag. “Savannah Whitman. May I call you Savannah?”

“Oh yes. Please do.” Then her tongue tied itself into knots and she couldn’t think of a single thing to add. Which was nothing new where the opposite sex was concerned.

In all modesty, Savannah knew she was a brilliant engineer. Top in her field of missile guidance, navigation and control, with three patents before she’d reached the midpoint of her thirties. She could talk for hours without notes when it came to such esoteric subjects as time to go, field of view and line of sight. She could teach classes on those subjects, too, and had. She could write complex algorithms that maybe a thousand people in the world could easily decipher. She’d been so valuable to the US government and her previous employer they’d practically begged her not to resign, even playing the “you owe a duty to your country” card.

But when it came to men in a social situation—especially handsome men like Niall Johnson—words escaped her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her hands shook. And she felt as if she were standing there naked. Defenseless.

But then something remarkable happened. Niall smiled down at her. And his eyes held such understanding Savannah knew she had nothing to fear where he was concerned. His eyes lingered on her mouth and she knew he was attracted to her. Maybe not as attracted to her as she was to him—he was an assault on her senses, so tall and solidly male he practically oozed testosterone—but apparently he felt she could hold her own with him. Unusual and refreshing. So refreshing she believed it for some reason she couldn’t fathom.

He was a total stranger, and yet she felt as if she knew him. As if she could be comfortable with him, the way she was with the next-door-neighbor boys she’d grown up with in Vail, Arizona. Boys who had become men, but not men she looked at as men. And they saw her as a friend and colleague, not as a woman.

But that wasn’t how Niall Johnson was looking at her. The warm interest in his dark eyes was as tangible as a caress. Savannah shivered slightly under his steady gaze, her nipples tightening. As if...as if...

“I don’t know about you, but I really want to climb to the top,” Niall said, indicating what he meant by a motion of his thumb. “Now that you’ve caught your breath, how about we do it together?”

She loved how he made it sound as if her panic attack earlier was nothing more than shortness of breath due to exertion. His eyes told her he understood the true cause, but they also conveyed a rock-solid belief she could conquer her fear and conquer the wall at the same time. And that belief made her willing to risk it.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you lead the way? Then you can set the pace...whatever you’re comfortable with. I’ll be right behind you, making sure no one bumps into you. How’s that?”

No one would dare jostle him, she acknowledged silently. She didn’t know how he knew her fear wasn’t so much of people, and not even of those behind her, but rather of people coming up behind her unseen. People touching her when she wasn’t expecting it. Feeling trapped. But somehow, he seemed to know.

“You don’t mind?” She hated the hesitant tone in her voice, but she had to ask. It was patently obvious he could get to the top much faster alone than accompanying her, even though she desperately wanted to go up there with him keeping the crowd at bay.

His smile grew, and Savannah’s abdomen quivered under the blatant male interest in his dark eyes. She’d never had a man look at her as if she was Little Red Riding Hood and he was the Big Bad Wolf waiting to gobble her up. And she was shocked to realize this was another item on her bucket list, one she hadn’t realized was there until this instant. Just once in my life I want a man to—

She cut that thought off before she could put it into words...even though they were only in her head. But for the first time in her thirty-six years of always being practical and playing it safe, she let go of her hold on reality and snatched at the fantasy that miraculously appeared to be within her grasp. This whole tour and cruise was a dream come true. Why couldn’t Niall Johnson be part of it?

She wasn’t crazy enough to believe in love at first sight. And she wasn’t having rosy visions of happily-ever-after. But no man had ever, ever made her body meltingly aware of every breath he drew the way Niall Johnson did. And she decided then and there that if he planned to seduce her into his bed, she was totally on board with that idea.

* * *

It’s almost too easy, Niall thought as he stood behind Savannah, protecting her from the crowd while she gazed in rapt wonder at the view from the top of the wall. Like shooting a stationary target.

“Where’s your camera?” he asked abruptly, wanting to distract himself from thoughts that were making him uncomfortable...but shouldn’t. She was his assignment. He needed to remember that.

“Oh.” She glanced up at him over her shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking...” Her right hand fumbled in the pocket of her padded vest and pulled out a camera. He noted the make and model effortlessly—noticing things, logging them into his brain for future reference, was second nature to him. He couldn’t not be aware of everything around him...including the expression on Savannah’s face that she had no idea conveyed how absolutely vulnerable she was to his brand of charm. Charm he had no business using on an innocent victim.

Whoa! Where did that thought come from? he berated himself. Dr. Savannah Whitman could very well be a traitor. And if she was, she deserved every bad thing he might do to her, up to and including taking her out. If absolutely necessary. He couldn’t allow her to reveal what she knew to his country’s enemies. He wouldn’t allow it.

* * *

Savannah gazed out over the rolling hills, then snapped a few photos. “The GPS doesn’t work in China, you know,” she told him, a trace of regret in her voice. “I bought this camera for this trip specifically because of that feature. I wanted a permanent GPS record of every place I visited. But...” She sighed. “I’m not exactly sure why, but it doesn’t work. It worked just fine in the US—I tested it. Do you think the Chinese government is somehow blocking the signal?”

“Could be,” he said cautiously. He knew the answer. But he wasn’t about to reveal to her that he knew or how he knew.

She chuckled suddenly, taking him by surprise. “And you couldn’t care less, one way or the other.” She turned within the frame of his arms, her face alight with humor. “Sorry. I’m babbling. I have a bad habit of blurting out what’s on my mind. Even worse, my mind tends to jump around a lot—that’s the engineer in me. So carrying on a normal conversation with me is a challenge.”

“A challenge?” he murmured. “I love a challenge.”

He would. She didn’t know how she knew that about him, but she did. He wasn’t talking about carrying on a conversation with her, of course. She wasn’t that naive. He was talking sex, plain and simple. She caught her breath, then shook her head. “I won’t be much of a challenge,” she said before she could think about how unwise it was to admit it.

He didn’t move closer, but somehow it felt as if he had. And instead of the choked-up feeling that always overcame her whenever she feared she couldn’t escape, this time her shortness of breath had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with excitement.

“You’re no pushover,” he told her, that tantalizing smile in his eyes matching the one on his lips. “Damned if I know what you are, but I know that much.”

Kiss me and find out.

Savannah was aghast at herself, until she realized she hadn’t actually uttered those words out loud. But then Niall’s head came down, shortening the distance between them, and his lips brushed hers. Just a delicate touch, but she trembled. Made an inarticulate sound deep in her throat. And her hands came up of their own volition to clutch his arms. To hold him right where he was. To keep him kissing her.

Then he deepened the contact, and Savannah lost any grasp she had on reality. Being kissed by Niall, feeling his body rock-hard against the softness of hers as he held her with male intent, sent her into an alternate universe, one where she could only cling to him for safety. She couldn’t escape but she didn’t want to escape. Not from him.

Suddenly, Savannah realized a little sound of arousal and surrender was coming from her throat. She tried to break away, to free herself from his powerful spell...and he let her go.

It was only a slight movement on her part, but he responded immediately. And that impressed the hell out of her. Most men she knew wouldn’t have. Most men would have tried to overcome what they thought was merely token resistance on her part. But not Niall. He had incredible self-control...and a will to match.

“Seen enough?” he asked eventually, after her heartbeat slowed...as if they hadn’t just spent the last few minutes not taking in the magnificent view at all. “We still have to fight our way back down to the gondolas and make it to the tour bus before eleven. And our tour guide warned us to allow forty-five minutes for that, to be on the safe side.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten after ten now.”

Savannah couldn’t believe how the time had flown. And Niall must have read her crestfallen expression, because his eyes held understanding as he turned her gently to face outward again. “We have five minutes,” he said in his deep voice. “Make the most of them.”

Gratitude washed through her. Not just that he seemed to get how much this meant to her, that she was actually here on the top of the Great Wall the way she’d dreamed of being since she was a little girl. But also for the fact that he was here with her. Holding her safe. Sheltering her from the crowd.

“It’s amazing,” she managed in wistful tones. “I’ve seen pictures of course. My mom and I used to—” She stopped abruptly, afraid she’d be overcome with emotion if she continued that line of thought. She sighed a little to herself, suppressing the pang, and said instead, “The sheer immensity of it is unbelievable.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think so?”

He nodded slowly. “Unbelievable.” But he wasn’t looking at the view. And Savannah knew he was talking about her.

* * *

The steep walk back down passed in a blur. A comfortable blur where she didn’t panic once. The gondola ride, too. Savannah scurried into the slow-moving car when it was her turn, but Niall took so long entering after her no one else managed to crowd in with them. Then he sat down next to her, when he could have had the entire opposite seat to himself, and Savannah knew he’d deliberately maneuvered things this way, something he confirmed with, “I’ll bet you’re glad for a little privacy.”

She wanted to express her thanks, but the words wouldn’t come. She just gazed at him instead. But he seemed to get her message, because one corner of his mouth twitched upward in a half grin. “Yeah. Can’t say as I know what it’s like, being afraid of crowds. But I do enjoy privacy myself. At home—” He broke off suddenly, and Savannah wondered what he’d intended to say. And why he’d stopped himself from saying it.

Savannah and small talk in a social situation didn’t normally peacefully coexist. But she suddenly wanted to know everything she could about Niall, so she asked softly, “Where’s home?”

“Washington, DC.” That alpha male smile was back in full force. “And you?”

“Vail, Arizona. Just east of Tucson.”

“Born and raised?”

She nodded. “I’ve lived there all my life, except for my college years. What about you?”

He shook his head. “Denver. Then four years in the Marine Corps, stationed all over hell and gone.”

“What made you decide to settle down in DC?” The question tumbled out before she could stop herself.

His expression didn’t actually change, so Savannah didn’t know how she knew but somehow she did—this wasn’t a question Niall was going to answer in detail. And she was right. “Work,” he said briefly. “And you? Where do you work?”

“I don’t, actually.”

He raised his brows. “Lady of leisure?”

She shook her head vehemently. “I should have said I don’t work right now. Although I’m sure I’ll go back to it after this year.”

“What’s so special about this year?” When Savannah hesitated, he said, “Sorry, don’t answer if it makes you uncomfortable. I have a bad habit of asking questions I shouldn’t.”

She tore her gaze away from his and realized their gondola was almost at the terminus. “It’s a long story,” she finally admitted. “And—”

“And now’s not a good time for a long story,” he finished for her. “How about over dinner? Dinner tonight is at our hotel, as I recall. We can find a quiet spot and you can tell me all about it.” His hand reached out and cupped her cheek, gently turning her face to his. His gaze lingered on her mouth for a moment before he added, “And at the same time, you can tell me what’s lacking in the male population of Vail, Arizona.”

Bewildered, she let her eyes ask for elucidation. His voice was deep, male and sent shivers of awareness through her as he said, “You can explain how it’s even remotely possible a woman like you is traveling on an excursion like this alone.”