Special Ops Rendezvous Read online

  She nodded and let him go. He shook Trey’s hand and got a jolt to his mind as he remembered the dream when he’d fallen asleep on the delectable Olivia Marshall’s massage table. He shifted his shoulders, letting go of his brother’s hand early. Trey gave him a quizzical look, but his mother was there to interrupt Sam’s gaze as she enveloped him in a hug.

  “My boy. It’s good to see you. Come sit down, all of you.”

  They moved toward the small table set up on the patio, the turquoise water of the pool looked inviting even in the early spring heat.

  As they settled into their chairs, Sam’s mother turned her attention to him. “Is this just a visit to see how your old mom’s doing?”

  “You’ll never be old, Mom,” Sam said. “I’m here to see how you’re doing and to deliver some very upsetting news.”

  “Oh, no,” Kate said, her blue eyes clouding. “What is it?”

  “Dr. Owens was murdered this morning.”

  “Your psychologist? Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Sam. I know that he was a very good doctor.”

  “He was.”

  Trey studied his face. “What is it, Sam?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t help thinking that this may have something to do with Mom’s assassination attempt and Mike’s...” Sam’s throat constricted. “Mike’s meltdown.”

  “This is all such a terrible business and I’m so sorry all of you got so involved in it. I know my political aspirations haven’t been easy on you all.”

  “You did what you thought was good for Dad’s seat and for the family. We all know that, Mom,” Sam said.

  As Maddie brought the lunch down, Sam stood up to help her with the tray. He saw Dan Henderson watching him with more than just a passing interest. He was watching him like a serious, vigilant Secret Service agent.

  * * *

  Late morning the next day, Sam entered his local coffee shop and stepped into line. He was behind about four people when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and his gaze collided with Olivia Marshall’s.

  “Well, hello there,” she said, beaming.

  Even with that sudden prickling sensation back, he couldn’t help smiling at her, feeling as if his day just got a bit brighter.

  She looked good today, too. Her brown eyes sparkling, her multihued hair swinging free around her beautiful face. She was dressed in a butter-yellow shirt and a pair of snug, well-worn jeans. She looked delectable and smelled delicious.

  “Olivia? You following me?”

  She cocked her head and gave him a wry smile. “What if I was?”

  He flashed a grin. “Ah, then I might have to think you were flirting with me.” His frustration with himself and the whole freaking ordeal was finally what had driven him out of the house today.

  She laughed. “Oh, Sam, if it’s not clear, I must be terrible at it.”

  “No, you’re fine at it.” Damn, this woman intrigued the hell out of him. She was so at ease in her skin, which, he realized, most of the women of his acquaintance, regardless of their beauty, were not. And by not playing on it, she had somehow managed to seem all the more sensual and attractive. Which should make absolutely no sense, but the fact that he couldn’t get her out of his mind was proof enough.

  “How about we share a table?” she said.

  He hesitated. The prickling sensation on the back of his neck refused to go away and, in fact, only grew stronger. Instincts this strong were rarely wrong. But they were usually rooted in something substantive. There had to be more here than he was seeing. And yet, at the same time, he’d never wanted more to be wrong.

  All last night—while he’d been distracting himself with a Chicago White Sox game and found it increasingly difficult to keep his mind on any of the innings for longer than a few minutes—he could only think that had to be some babe to interrupt his baseball obsession.

  He wanted—needed—to create more distance because he thought about Dr. Owens a lot last night. He’d checked both of his handguns and neither of them had been fired. That gave him a measure of relief. But if he hadn’t killed Dr. Owens, maybe he’d been the reason he was murdered. He wasn’t used to his thoughts being so clouded and paranoid, and he knew his judgment could be off. He simply had to find an edge and hold on to it.

  Keeping his distance from this woman wasn’t giving him the clarity he wanted. And all the thinking and distraction weren’t going to help.

  “Sure. I’ve got nothing but time to kill.”

  She gave him a smile, and there was absolutely nothing impersonal about it.

  “What can I get you, sir?”

  He realized that he’d been standing there staring at her. He forced his attention away from her face to the barista.

  After placing and receiving their orders, he and Olivia walked over to a table by the window. People were walking by on the sidewalk.

  “So, how did you end up at Rosebud Spa? Not exactly a place where a rough-and-tough Special Forces guy hangs out.”

  “Ha! No, not exactly. I got referred.”

  “By whom?”

  He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to talk about his mental issues with this woman. She had seen him after he’d woken from that disturbing nightmare and she was so open and easy to talk to. “Dr. John Owens, he’s a psychologist.”

  She made a small reaction, her eyes dimmed. “I heard he was murdered.”

  “Yes.” His chest got tight and he had to look away. Damn his mental state. He felt he was acting like a little girl, but he had to admit a great fondness for Dr. Owens. “He was a good man.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “How did you end up working at the Rosebud?”

  “I was looking for a job that would give me some pickup work. The owners were looking for a fill-in. It works out for me.”

  “You have only the one job?”

  She looked away and he got that prickling again. Could just be his paranoia and he was reading something into nothing, given his fixation with trying to figure out what set off his instincts with this woman.

  “I work another job. A boring office job. Nothing special.”

  He couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary in her statement. But in this situation he always followed his gut. “I can’t imagine that. I’ve been in the field so long serving Uncle Sam I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t enlisted.”

  “I can tell it’s something that you’ve been thinking about. You looking to retire?” She took a sip of her coffee, keeping her gaze trained on him.

  “I don’t know. I’m tired, and to be honest, I have thought about getting out.”

  “Burned out? I’ve seen that before in my job.”

  “I bet.” He finished his coffee and decided it was a good idea to nip this in the bud and get the hell away while the getting was good. He rose.

  She rose, too, and stood directly in his path. “Look, what do you have planned today?”

  Startled by her question, he didn’t answer right away. “Like I said, I’m killing time.” He regretted the words immediately. She was fixin’ to ask him to spend more time with her. He was sure.

  “I’m going to the flea market at the fairgrounds, then the Museum of Art. They have a really nice park nearby. You interested?”

  Was he ever, and not in just spending the day with her! His initial reaction was to be pleased and flattered as a man would be when a woman he was interested in showed the same in return. Which was the wrong reaction entirely. His gut was telling him something was off. But it might have nothing to do with her. And yet...that was the first thing he’d felt. A good wake-up call that his gut was probably as paranoid as his head.

  “Am I reading you wrong?” she asked.

  He didn’t move away. He told himself he just wanted to see her eyes up close, g
et a better idea of what he might be reading in her.

  “If I am, I apologize. But I don’t normally have to work this hard for a date.”

  Thoroughly charmed, he laughed. Up close like this, with the sunlight illuminating that captivating hair, he got caught up in her look. For someone so forthright and confident, the innocence she projected seemed incongruous. And yet he found her so sweet and compassionate, and it reminded him that no matter how tough the exterior, everyone was vulnerable in some way.

  “My life is complicated, Olivia. More so than most people would want to deal with.”

  “Oh, well, it’s just the flea market and the art museum and a walk in the park. Sounds like those are uncomplicated things. You look like you could use a simple day. There’s a great café at the museum.”

  Sam’s smile came slowly. “I bet you won all your debates in college.”

  Her smile spread to a grin that was unaffected as it was honest. “Well, as a matter of fact, I did.”

  An afternoon with a beautiful woman—simple, uncomplicated. He could really go for that.

  And it was a great afternoon. Olivia was a great conversationalist, lively, with a wicked sense of humor.

  So it was easy for him to understand how she ended up at his house on the couch watching baseball with him after he’d grilled some steaks they had picked up on the way there. He was really comfortable with her, and he couldn’t make himself send her on her way.

  It didn’t help that she’d snuggled up to him in an open, warm way. He wasn’t going to kiss her, but the urge to do so plagued him.

  He was so glad he had that straight in his head. So little was straight in his head these days.

  He leaned his head back, enjoying her warm body so close to his. With every breath she took, an irrepressible longing was building inside him, making his chest tight.

  It would be good if he could take a full breath, but it seemed as if his lungs were at only half capacity. Maybe that was why he was lightheaded. There was only one truth here: he wanted her.

  It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman. Well, he always wanted one. He just hadn’t bothered lately to find one, something he used to do without putting out too much effort. Usually women were just there.

  But if they’d been anywhere lately, he hadn’t noticed, not since Afghanistan.

  He’d noticed her, though. Noticed her in a way that was impossible to ignore, deep down in his gut, viscerally.

  Man, the day had taken more out of him than he realized and before he knew it, he was back in that sunlit glen, back in Yellowstone with his father, the tents, the campfire, the anger, no, hatred at his mother. Only this time, no one was there. In the distance, he heard growling and it got closer and closer until a bear materialized out of the forest. He stood frozen as it watched him, its eyes feral and menacing. Then it was just his brother Trey standing there, that darkness all around him and his face blank again, just blank.

  He started awake and found that the game had ended, but Olivia was gone. Had she left without saying goodbye?

  Then he heard something from his office and he rose, that prickling starting up all over again. His training kicked in and he ghosted through the house to the room. The door was ajar and Olivia was in there on his computer, files strewn across his desk. Files she’d obviously been nosing through.

  The look on her face was rapt, professional and determined. He felt all kinds of betrayed and a little relieved. His instincts weren’t totally off and he wasn’t paranoid for nothing.

  When she turned off his computer and carefully put his files away, she rose and he made his move, grabbing her from behind.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a private investigator,” she said, not at all intimidated.

  “Who the hell are you working for?” he growled.

  “Dr. John Owens.... I’m his sister.”

  Chapter 3

  The fact that he had his forearm snug around her throat and her waist, his warm, hard chest against her back made her lose focus for just a second. She’d thought last night about all that warm skin that she’d had her hands on. She’d even found it extremely difficult to get to sleep not only because her dear brother had been murdered, but because memories of touching Sam had plagued her. He was a very attractive man, his chiseled features memorable. He had a set of blue eyes that were intense, focused with a lethal edge, and a full bottom lip that was distracting all on its own but, when matched with his perfect bow of an upper lip, made a deadly combination. Very gorgeous, very kissable. The memory of the shape, size and feel of his body was burned into her mind. She wasn’t at all worried that he was going to hurt her. She didn’t know how, but she just knew.

  “If you could let go of me, we can discuss this. I mean you no harm, Sam.” Damn, he was tall, six two to her five ten. The arm around her waist was immovable. He was holding her so tight against him, she could feel the beat of his heart against her back. Her backside pressed up against his muscular hips.

  He released her and she turned to face him. Sam just stared at her and she couldn’t blame him. He looked so confused, his blue eyes full with a sense of betrayal. She did feel very guilty about that. But she wanted to understand who this man was and why her brother had been so insistent that she follow him and, if the need arose, protect him. That made her pause because Sam Winston looked as though he could quite easily take care of himself. He screamed warrior in a potent way that made her only want to get closer to his dangerous edge.

  In the short period of time that she’d known him, she was beginning to understand why her brother cared about Sam so much. Her brother was the kind of man who worried about all his patients, but he considered Sam special because of what had happened to their father. Now she understood why her brother was so keen on helping Sam.

  “You’re Dr. Owens’s sister? Let me see proof.”

  His eyes were hard and filled with a distrust that Olivia totally understood. “I’d have to get my purse in the living room.”

  He nodded sharply and followed her out there. Picking up her handbag, she reached inside and snagged her wallet. Dragging out her license and P.I. ID, she handed both to him.

  He studied them. “They look legit, but in my line of work, I can never take anything at face value. People disguise themselves and fabricate identities as easily as breathing.”

  He handed the IDs back to her. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “I know you don’t. But, in light of my brother’s death, you can’t blame me for being cautious about you.”

  He ran his big hand over his dark brown hair buzzed close to his scalp, his blue eyes wary and stormy. “Dr. Owens never mentioned a sister,” he said.

  “That’s because my brother didn’t talk about his personal life with his clients. The only proof I can offer you is the truth. John Owens was my brother. He left me everything as I am his only family, including the keys to his practice. I control all his files, notes, tapes, everything.”

  He let out a heavy breath. “I guess for the time being, I’ll have to take your word for it.” He shifted, his eyes still wary, but now there was sympathy there and what looked like...guilt. “I’m so sorry about your brother. I know what it’s like to lose people close to you. I just lost a buddy of my own. We’d been through a lot together and he was like a brother to me.”

  She nodded. “Mike Harris. I always do my homework on a case, and I read all about you and your family in the paper. I’m sorry about your loss, too, Sam.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, the pain and the loss clearly on his face as he nodded. The distress in his voice and his eyes wasn’t an act. She was very good at reading people. A sudden ache constricted her throat at the fresh memory of just speaking with John two days ago. His warm voice and the way he’d always given her a q
uick hug whenever they parted. Tears welled up in her eyes as the emotions rushed over her in a terrible sense of loss.

  Sam’s expression relaxed, his blue eyes going soft with his compassion as he reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Before Mike shot my mother, I would have sworn with total confidence that he wasn’t capable of doing something that horrible. He was not just my friend,” he said with conviction. “We were comrades and we’d been through more than normal men ever go through. I thought our bond was unbreakable. I can’t count the times he’d saved my ass and the times I’d saved his. So it was natural to invite him into my life.”

  Her reaction to Sam was so visceral. On every level. Yesterday before she’d met him, she had thought he was a head case that could be a bit out of control, maybe even broken. But then she’d talked to him, seen the terrible scars on his back, the remnants of his agony. When he’d woken from that nightmare, the fear stark on his face, everything in her galvanized into a hard ball of need to help him any way she could.

  “He took advantage of that for the sole purpose of murdering my mother.” Sam’s voice broke and she reached out and touched his shoulder. He sidestepped her hand and paced away. “After Mike shot her, I questioned everything I knew.”

  He paused and she could see how he was struggling with Mike’s betrayal. Even more surprising was her need to comfort him, but he wasn’t allowing that. She was so happy that Mike Harris had failed. Olivia was a big supporter of Sam’s mother. She thought Kate Winston was a wonderful vice president. Of course, she had voted for her and would vote for her whatever office she was running for. She was one of those no-holds-barred politicians and she told it like it was. But Olivia wasn’t going to gush all of that to Sam. She could only secretly hope there would be an opportunity to meet her.

  He set his hands on his hips and faced her squarely. She appreciated his honesty. She didn’t think Sam had anything to hide, really. John was tight-lipped about Sam’s circumstances. Her brother was always aware of his patient’s confidentiality, so Olivia was really in the dark here about Sam. She would have to rely on her own interviewing skills to decipher what was going on with this guy.