Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(44)
Snarling with rage, he slammed his fist repeatedly into the wall, tearing holes into the Sheetrock. How dare Whitney send some enhanced bastard of a soldier to reprimand him. How dare the son of a bitch order him away from Calhoun’s sister. It wasn’t his place? He’d show them his place. And how had Whitney known? He kicked the chair, splintering it into pieces, stomping on it for good measure.
He had managed to penetrate Calhoun’s security and make it inside the fence without being seen. He had done that, not one of Whitney’s finest. Screw them. He could get in and out of the house at will. He could go right now, right this moment, to Calhoun’s sister’s house and spend all night cutting her into little pieces, maybe send them one by one to the cripple—no, send the pieces to Whitney—so f*ck him. How would Whitney like that?
He’d placed a listening device right outside the kitchen window. Calhoun had a jammer, but he was so much smarter at electronics than that enhanced bastard—than all of them. Had any of Whitney’s elite soldiers gotten that close to Calhoun?
And she would be gone this evening, dancing the night away with her lover. Well, he’d leave her a little surprise in her bed. In her panties. All over her entire damned room. Screw Whitney and his orders. And as for the cripple, well, tonight was going to be his last night. He was going to have him beaten to death right in front of the little whore. Whitney and his enhanced soldiers could choke on that.
CHAPTER 8
All this agonizing over Saber was inspiring. Jess was beginning to believe songwriters needed to suffer to produce good material—because this song was good. Every single note hauntingly beautiful, just like Saber.
He had started out working to unravel the mystery of that small digital recorder Louise Charter had brought to him. The recorder had been sealed in a plastic bag and locked in the office safe when she found it, and she hadn’t been the one to put it there. The admiral had nothing whatsoever to do with her office safe. According to Louise, he didn’t know the combination. If it was a plant to incriminate the admiral, whoever had placed the recorder there hadn’t known that only the secretary had access to the safe.
The recording was in bad shape. He could hear voices, but was unable to catch the words, even with his advanced equipment. In the end, he thought it best to turn the recorder over to the soundman of the team, Neil. The man could do almost anything when it came to sound. And once that was taken care of…
The need for Saber consumed him, so he poured his frustrations into composing and everything else just went to hell. For the first time in his adult life, he wanted to quit his job with the military, so that if Saber was in his home for any reason other than because she wanted to be, the secrets would no longer matter and they could be together.
“Jesse?” Her soft siren voice cut through his thoughts, a note of hesitation so endearing he was already smiling as he turned to open his office door. For a moment his heart seemed to stop beating.
Saber was dressed in a figure-hugging, royal blue, off-the-shoulder dress. The skirt flared from the hips down to a hem of ragged tails. She had touched her long thick lashes with mascara, colored her full lips a pearly pink. The wild riot of curls spilling around her face gleamed with highlights. She was so incredibly beautiful his stomach clenched and his heart did a crazy roll.
“Did you still want to go with me?”
“You’re not going without me, not looking like that,” he said, black gaze moving hot and hungry over her.
She performed a little pirouette for him. “What do you think?”
“I think you can break hearts in that dress.” Not to mention raise a man’s temperature a few hundred degrees. Jess wiped at the little beads of perspiration forming on his skin. To hell with the dancing. He had other, far better ideas in mind.
“You like it then? I bought it on a whim a couple of months ago. You know me, I never wear dresses.” She looked pleased at his response.
“I’d better get cleaned up to at least be presentable if I’m going to be seen with you. You look absolutely beautiful, Saber.”
A faint blush stole into her cheeks. “Did you get quite a bit of work done?”
He nodded as he followed her into the hall, unable to take his eyes from her slender form. Just the way she walked suggested music to him. She was beautiful, and while he dressed, all he did was fantasize over her. He took care with his clothes, wanting to impress her, wanting her to feel the way about him that he felt about her.
Saber waited while Jess changed into his dark Italian suit, the charcoal gray one. The one that always made Saber melt inside when he put it on. She loved the tangy, masculine scent of him, the way his hair was so neat except for that one persistent, very sexy lock of hair that always fell across the middle of his forehead.
In the van he sat for a minute, simply looking at her. His gaze was possessive, admiring, everything Saber could ever have wanted to see. It caused a rush of moist heat, the swirl of butterfly wings, and made her mouth go suddenly dry. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and then swallowed hard when his hungry gaze followed the movement.
“Jesse,” she protested breathlessly.
“Kiss me.” His voice went husky with raw need. He needed her kiss, the feel of her lips, her mouth, his body burning with desire, craving the honeyed taste of her.
Even as her brain protested, her body was already leaning toward his, wanting the heat that flared between them, wanting just one more taste of the forbidden.