Closer (The Unit #1) Page 3

  He stood and walked to the kitchen door. She took advantage of his lack of attention by working to remove the ropes from her wrists.

  “I think you already know the answers to your questions. Perhaps it has something to do with whom you are working for these days,” he growled as he turned around to face her again. He was pissed such a beautiful creature was out of his reach because she was loyal to the GIA.

  “I don’t have the project with me. It’s locked up nice and tight in my lab,” she explained as she slowly tried to slide the ropes from her wrists and over her hands.

  Her words were lost on him. He had no idea about Project Hummingbird, but that was the only rational conclusion her brain could reach.

  “If you weren’t such a bad person, Emma, we wouldn’t be here,” he retorted. “Someone is paying me a great deal of money to deliver you to them. Maybe you should be more careful about whom you associate with,” he continued as he stared straight into her soul.

  What was he talking about? “There must be some mistake,” she explained. “I work for the Department of Defense.”

  “That is not what my sources have confirmed,” he said.

  He really did admire the view. Her lush lips calling to his cock from across the room. He stared at her lips and she took notice. How he would love to feel those beautiful lips wrapped around his hard member. She worked feverishly, but oh so cautiously, to rid her hands of the ropes. He approached her, gun raised. He bent forward into her personal space and pressed his nose into her neck. What the fuck is going on? Was he smelling her?

  He backed away from her, lost in her beauty.

  “It is a pity you work for the GIA, Emma. You’re a very beautiful woman,” he commented as he checked on her bonds letting his fingers linger on the skin of her hand.

  The ropes were still in place. Thank God she hadn’t worked her hands out of them completely yet. She thought about his comments and wondered who the GIA was. She certainly didn’t work for them, so there definitely was some sort of mistake. He had the wrong person. Feeling secure in her bondage, he walked into her living room to gaze out of her expansive front windows.

  She didn’t waste any time. She worked feverishly removing the remaining bondage. Once free, she quietly made her way to her back door, shoved her feet into her boots, and slipped out of her cabin. She took off running into the forest. It was freezing, big snowflakes were falling all around her, and all she had on was her tank top and pajama bottoms. She would freeze to death before he could deliver her. She should have grabbed her keys and made her way to her car. There was no time to contemplate what to do as the back door swung open and Michael bolted in her direction. She took off running up the hill. She ran and ran as fast as she could deeper and deeper into the forest. Stumbling a few times, she managed to haul herself back up again. Having hiked these woods numerous times over her years at the cabin, she knew exactly where to go. She stumbled and crawled but eventually made her way to a small cavern opening in the side of the hill.

  ∞

  He walked back into the kitchen and noticed the ropes lying on the floor and the back door ajar.

  “Fuck,” he cried as he reached in his bag and grabbed his flashlight before charging through the back door and into the woods.

  The snow should make it much easier to track her. He heard a branch break, and he took off running in the direction of the sound. She would freeze out here, and he couldn’t allow that. Wearing his heavy North Face jacket over a long sleeve Henley t-shirt with fleece-lined black pants and winterized boots, he was warm enough, but she wasn’t wearing anything. He had to find her in the next thirty minutes or frostbite would set in.

  Listening for a moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat thumping against his chest. He had to find her. Then he heard her cry as she fell and hit the snow-packed earth. He began moving in that direction. By the time he found her footprints in the snow, she was gone. He followed her prints until they disappeared near a rock formation halfway up the face of the mountain. He walked around slowly, listening and observing. He couldn’t hear anything, so he observed every aspect of the rocks that laid around him.

  At the bottom of one of the rock formations he noticed a small opening. With his gun in his hand in front of him, he crawled through the narrow entrance. When he spotted her, he immediately brought his gun up to point it at her chest. She was cowered against the back of the cave. He approached her as he would a wounded animal. Pointing the flashlight at her, he could see her fingers were already a patchy white. He knew, at that moment, he didn’t want her to ever look at him with such fear in her eyes again.

  “How are your fingers feeling,” he kindly asked her as he approached deliberately.

  “They’re numb and tingly,” she whispered.

  Her ears were drained white too. Thinking quickly back upon his training, he realized he had to get her warmed up fast or frostbite and gangrene could set in; she could lose her extremities. He dropped his gun, squatted to her sitting position and brought her hands under his shirt, placing them against his skin. He shivered against her touch. He placed his hands over hers and pressed her fingers into his tight stomach. His muscles went rigid.

  He waited a few minutes until he could feel the cold dissipate a little then he said, “We have to get you back to your cabin, or you’ll get hypothermia out here.”

  She didn’t argue. She stood with him, the instinctual part of her body winning out. She was in survival mode. So much for dying before being delivered. She would have to think of another way. He brought the gun back up and signaled for her to move in front of him. She complied, and he followed her back to the cabin.

  « Chapter Four »

  Once inside, he motioned for her to sit down. Placing the gun on the kitchen table, he knelt down in front of her. He removed her right boot and then her left boot, observing her feet were a patchy white as well.

  “I am going to run you a warm bath to raise your body temperature,” he apologized as he stood and turned towards the bathroom. He removed his gun from the table and advanced to her bathroom.

  Like the rest of her house, it was a spacious area. The walls in the bathroom reminded him of a day spa advertisement he had once seen. They were a light olive green and the floors were made of the same blond hard wood. The Jacuzzi tub was separate from the shower and larger than he expected. In his mind, he could clearly see her luscious body under the warm water soaking the stress away; he could visualize the way the water pebbled on her breasts as it ran down her soft stomach. He started the water, running his hand under it to make sure it was the perfect temperature, not too hot or she would burn.

  She walked, teeth chattering and body trembling, into the bathroom. She was determined to get some answers. “To whom do you plan on delivering me?” she demanded. He remained seated on the edge of the tub, hand still under the water. He caught her eye and peered into her soul. She demanded, “Tell me.”

  “I am going to deliver you to an organization which will keep you from helping the GIA,” Michael confessed as he shook the water from his hand, the gun resting on his thigh.

  “What’s the GIA?” she asked wrapping her arms around her midsection trying to warm herself.

  “The GIA is the code name for the Armed Islamic Terrorist group you work for, but I have a feeling you already knew that,” he said disgustedly thinking about how he could never have the beautiful creature who stood courageous and trembling in front of him.

  Her eyes widened in horror at the impact of his statement. “I don’t work for the GIA. I work for the Department of Defense,” she exclaimed.

  The look of horror in her eyes had Michael second-guessing everything he knew about life until that exact moment.

  Should he tell her everything? The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t lying. She didn’t know who the GIA were, nor did she work for them. But if that were true, what did it all mean? Who had hired him to kidnap her and why? He had to talk to Rob or his employer to get som
e answers. Someone needed to tell him exactly what the fuck he was doing in this beautiful woman’s home. He needed to tell her to find out exactly what she knew. Maybe she could lend a clue as to what his real purpose was. Was it to prevent her from divulging state secrets like he had been led to believe or was there something else going on here and was he just being used as a means to an end? He didn’t like that thought. It meant Rob knew more than he had told him. But why? He was his best friend. Maybe Rob didn’t know any more than Michael.

  “Someone hired me. Told me you worked for the GIA and you had to be stopped. They said you plan on turning over a dangerous new weapon. They are paying me two hundred grand to deliver you. Get undressed,” he demanded pointing the gun at her again still not sure of what to do. He trusted Rob with his life, yet at the same time, he trusted Emma.

  She self-consciously removed her tank top; she wasn’t wearing a bra. Michael stared at her like a man starved. He yearned to touch those round, plump breasts. He wanted to taste her. He conveyed all of this through his eyes as he gazed longingly at her body.

  “Can I have some privacy please?” she asked feeling way too uncomfortable being naked in front of this man who meant to do her harm, not to mention that he was looking at her like the Wolf looked at Little Red Riding Hood.

  “Remove your pants,” he commanded never moving the gun from the leveled position of her chest. He knew he was now taking advantage of her, but something inside of him had to see her naked.

  She hooked her thumbs in her pants and panties and with one move, removed both to the bottom of her feet. She never felt so self-conscious in her life. She brought her arms up to cover her breasts.

  At the sight of her naked body, Michael was immediately harder than he had ever remembered feeling in his 30 years on earth. His eyes were drawn from her breasts to the apex of her thighs. All he wanted was to taste her, just once. He instinctually knew she would taste better than anything he had ever experienced.

  “Get into the tub and get warm. We have to slowly raise your body temperature or you could get sick,” he pleaded as he tore his eyes away from her body.

  She did need to get warm and fast. The look in his eyes was an earnest one. She could hear the sincerity in his voice. It was that sincerity which confused her because he looked like a cat playing with a mouse. She felt conflicted. Here was a stranger pointing a gun at her naked body yet she wasn’t afraid. She should be scared, but her instincts said he wasn’t going to hurt her— physically anyways.

  “I will leave you alone to bathe,” he said walking towards the bathroom door. He pulled the door closed behind him and went to dream about the ways he could make her body respond to his. He sat on her couch directly facing the bathroom door. He’d seen that the window in the bathroom was a small one that sat high above her Jacuzzi tub. She wouldn’t be escaping again. He fantasized about how wet he could make her when he ran his tongue from the base of her neck to that tender spot where her ear met flesh. He wondered if she would purr if he gently nibbled at the spot where her shoulder met her neck. He wondered how wet she would be as he slid a finger deep into her core? He imagined sucking on that same finger, tasting her sweet juice. Could he keep these urges under control?

  The bath gave her the perfect opportunity to think. Someone wanted her, no doubt for the knowledge she could provide on Project Hummingbird. She already knew there was a black market for this weapon, but in all of her neurotic anxieties, she never once feared she would be abducted. She had always felt safe enough in the knowledge that not many people had known of her project. Someone must be selling out, someone high up in the chain of command. That was the only way anyone could possibly know about her work. But who? In truth, there were only a handful of people that knew of her work, all with the highest level security clearance that one could achieve. Was it someone at the DOD or the CIA? Who would betray their country like that? She had no way of knowing and no way to find out. He planned on delivering her to a group who would keep her from divulging her secrets to the GIA. That just didn’t make sense. She had top-secret clearance, which meant the government trusted her not to consort with anyone. This had to be the work of a terrorist group, possibly even the same group Michael thought he was helping to protect the United States against. What would they do with her? Would they torture or rape her because she wouldn’t give up what she knew easily? She knew she would die as soon as they had the information they needed from her. Although she had never heard their code name before, she knew of The Armed Islamic Group and they were no joke. They were based in Algeria and were ruthless kidnappers and terrorists. Now, it appeared, a cell was here in the United States. Was their target also here in the United States? Once they had her knowledge, once they knew how to build a Hummingbird, it was only a matter of time before they flew it into the capital and took out the President of the United States and all of his security detail. They could walk in and take the President. They would have the leverage to achieve anything they wanted. Surely the United States didn’t negotiate with terrorists, but what would happen if they somehow got the President, or worse, his family?

  Her stress only increased with her body temperature. She had to find a way out of this mess. Maybe she could convince Michael; he seemed sincere in his concern for her. She knew from the way he devoured her with his eyes, he wanted her. Maybe she could play him. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a sex kitten like Bethany. She didn’t know how to use her feminine wiles to seduce a man. She wouldn’t even know what seducing a man looked like. She was one hundred percent intelligent. She didn’t know how to use her charm or looks to get a man to do her bidding. Maybe she could arouse sympathy in him and bring him around to her cause.

  Should she tell him what she was working on? It was her greatest secret and her life’s work. If she took a chance and told him, he could use it against her. She could lose her reputation and her job. She worked so hard to achieve everything she had. She spent her whole life working towards this one goal. Could she tell him? Would it work? Once he knew the truth, perhaps he would change his mind. However, he was attempting to kidnap her. He did have a gun which he’d kept on her. He had used his gun to order her to get undressed. What kind of man did that? If he was truly kidnapping her out of fear for his country, maybe she could use that fear. That would require divulging state secrets, but if it achieved her objective, then she was willing, because as it stood now, she would most likely be tortured and raped once she was handed over to the GIA. And she had no idea how long she could hold out. She wasn’t trained to withstand torture. What she had to decide now was which was more important, her project or her life?

  She reappeared in a bathrobe wrapped snuggly around her body. “I think there are some things you need to know,” she conceded as she walked into the living room.

  She hoped this plan of bringing him to her side would work. After all, he said he was “hired” and he definitively gave off a military vibe. He had to be a patriot if he thought he was doing the right thing by delivering her to the people who would keep her from spilling her secrets to the GIA.

  He mentally undressed her. Now that he knew what was underneath the clothing, he could only picture her naked in his mind. Their eyes met and he exposed the desire and insecurity he felt where she was concerned. As she peered into his caramel brown orbs, she felt that none-too-familiar heat in her belly. She was definitely attracted to this man, but she imagined most women would be. And his eyes…his light caramel colored eyes made her want to confess her darkest fantasies to him. She imagined her hands twisting in his curls as she pulled his head tighter against her body. He was a good six inches taller than she was. Where she was all soft, he was hard and muscular. Just great, she thought, now she was attracted to her abductor. But should she even trust this man? She had never before trusted her gut. Instead she had always relied strictly on her intellect. She had never needed to use her intuition over her rational thought, but she needed to trust her feelings now. Her gut said to trust hi
m, once he knew the truth, he would protect her. Here goes nothing, she thought.

  He stalked her like a hyena approaches a gazelle. He stood closer still, drawing her out of her thoughts. He drew closer until they were a breath apart. He was going to kiss her. Her head got all swimmy, something that never had happened to her before. She felt dizzy, like her legs were going to give out. And then she felt it, his hot mouth closed over her tightly drawn lips. Still in her head, she fought it, she pulled back and slapped his face forcing his head to the side. He touched his check with his large rough hand, rubbing the spot she slapped. Everything about her pulled him to her. He was the proverbial moth to the flame.

  He looked into her eyes and smiled. She was a tough one. He didn’t mind the chase, but he knew without a doubt after tasting her, he would have her willingly give herself to him.

  He spoke calmly, apologetically, his eyes fixated upon hers. He didn’t know what had come over him other than he had to touch her. “Why don’t I fix you a cup of tea?” he asked as he allowed her to walk away from his hard body.

  “I would love a cup, thank you,” she retorted still shocked he had kissed her and even more so because she had liked it.

  He padded into her kitchen and she followed. “Where do you keep your tea?” he asked opening cabinet after cabinet until she responded.

  “That one.” She pointed.

  He reached inside and pulled out the teabags setting them on the counter. He grabbed the kettle from the stove and filled it water. Replacing the kettle on the stove, he turned on her gas burner to high. She sat down on the stool at the breakfast bar facing the kitchen. She couldn’t help but notice how very much at home he looked in her space, even with the gun in his hand.

  It was now or never, but she was torn. Her head said not to trust him. But this time she was going to have to listen to her gut. This was her only plan, and if it worked, he could help her; she just knew it.