Rogue Soldier (14 page)

“I want to marry you because you are the most amazing person I have ever known. Because the past three years were hell without you. Because you're brave and strong and sexy and I am nuts about you. Tessa Nielsen, I love you, and I am going to keep on loving you for the rest of my life. Would you please just this once not be pigheaded and agree to be my wife?”

He took her hand, but she pulled it back.

“You were doing good until that last sentence.”

“Okay, let me try again. Would you please put me out of my misery and agree to be my wife?” He put on a roguish expression. “Will ye be my bonnie bride, lass?”

That sexy brogue just about did her in. “And you'll be reasonable?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to try to get into whatever group it is you're working for. Are you going to have a problem with that?”

Her military career had started out of a desire to learn how to be strong and wanting to follow in her brother's footsteps, but down the line it had turned into something more. She enjoyed it and she was good at it. She liked the feeling of making a differ
ence. “I'm not kidding, Mike. I'm not quitting so you can take care of me and satisfy some deep-seated macho need.”

“I'll give you a reference. I'll put in a recommendation.”

“Okay, hypothetical question. We are home and it's the middle of the night. We hear a burglar downstairs. Are you going to lock me in the bedroom, or are you going to let me go downstairs and beat up his sorry ass?”

“Can we go together?”

She thought for a moment. “Deal.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, that's a yes.” The fight went out of her. She had trouble catching her breath. “I love you, don't you know that?” She had never stopped loving him.

He held her gaze. “God, I would have given anything to hear you say that. There was a time when I was scared to death you wouldn't.”

She smiled.

“A word of warning,” he said, and she stiffened.

“Grandpa Fergus will likely want to play the bagpipe at the wedding. He'd be hurt if we said no. I'm probably going to have to get married in a kilt.”

She let out a slow breath and savored the image that came to mind. “I can live with that.”

“I'm dying to kiss you.” He leaned closer.

“What's keeping you?”

“The fear of crashing.” He grinned.

“See? That's the kind of stuff I'm talking about. If we are going to get married, you are going to have to put a lot more faith in me. I'll have you know, I'm an excellent pilot.”

“In you, I have all the faith in the world,” he said and closed the distance between them.

“I can't believe we're working undercover on our honeymoon. How could you agree to this?” Mike shook his head.

“It's just surveillance,” Tessa said and smoothed some more suntan lotion over her legs.

He swallowed, his mouth feeling dry as he watched her slim fingers glide over her calves and up to her thighs. They were stretched out on a private beach in Venezuela, the favorite hangout of Paolo Sanchez, a major international financier who had been linked recently to a certain terrorist group.

“I wonder how Sasha is doing?”

“Probably gained ten pounds by now, knowing Kelly,” he said.

His youngest sister adored the dog and had begged for the job of dog-sitting. The other huskies had been taken back into service by the U.S.A.C.E. Tessa had insisted on Sasha's discharge and adoption.

He had a wife, a house and a dog. If that wasn't the most freakishly normal thing he'd done in his adult life, he didn't know what was. He loved it.

Dave walked by without looking at either of them, his large footprints following him in a neat row on the wet sand. The surf broke against the beach with a musical sound. The air was filled with the smell of salt water, the breeze bringing a whiff of suntan lotion now and then.

“Guess our shift is over.” Mike sat up.

Tessa followed Dave with her eyes without turning her head. “That man needs a good waxing.”

Mike flinched. “I wouldn't mention that to him if I were you.”

“When would I have a chance to talk to your friends? You don't let me near them.”

“We're not supposed to know them. And even if we weren't undercover, I wouldn't want any of them within a mile of you. It's our honeymoon.” He picked up his towel and tossed it over his shoulder as he glanced down the length of the beach. Other than Dave Reyburn, he couldn't spot anyone from the team, although there had to be at least one more man watching. They were taking shifts in twos.

“You worry about Dave seducing me?” She grinned at him.

“No.” Not Dave. Short and bulky and covered in hair in the most unattractive places, Dave Reyburn
was hardly a ladies' man. But some of the others were. He'd almost had to punch Eric's lights out the night before for staring at Tessa half the night at the bar.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She gathered up her belongings and drew a finger down his arm, instantly setting his body on full alert. “There is only one man I'm interested in.”

He grinned, loving the sound of that.

“Pepito, the chef,” she said.

She turned, but he grabbed after her and pulled her to him, wiped the mischievous smile off her lips with his own. He kissed her longer and harder than he meant to. He could never quite get enough.

“You hungry?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Mmmm?”

“Pepito.” He rubbed the stubble of his cheek against the soft skin on her neck.

“Pepito who?”

“That's what I thought.” He swung her into his arms. “We'll get room service.”

“I like a man who knows how to take charge,” she said against his neck.

“Since when? Don't you go changing on me now.” He balanced her with one hand as he opened the door. Their bungalow was right on the beach.

“I'm not saying I want you to be bossing me around all the time.” She slid her feet to the ground, and before he knew what was going on, she had one
leg stuck behind his, a sudden tug at his elbow sending him onto the bed on his back.

“I do like to get my turn,” she said, already straddling him.

He reached up and pulled her down for a kiss that left both of them panting. He slid a hand down her back and came away with her bikini top, then used her momentary pause to flip them and pin her under him.

“Are we going to spend the rest of our lives wrestling for control?” she asked as she slipped a hand between them and cupped him.

“Probably.” He formed the single word with concentration as he lowered his lips to a rosy nipple.

“You know, I kind of like it this way.” She locked her legs around his hips.

“Me, too,” was the last thing he said before he descended on his target.