Jenna wished she didn’t have to say goodnight. But he couldn’t come inside, and she needed to get back to work.
“Goodnight.” She rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek as a sister should. “Thank you for the surprise. It means a lot to me to have something that belonged to James. And thanks for the… uh… family time, too, Mr. Magic Fingers.”
With that, she turned and keyed herself inside, her heart singing.
9
Derek sat in the Land Cruiser, his body aching with sexual frustration while he tried to write the daily report for Cobra HQ. What the hell was he supposed to say?
Brought subject into generator shed, gave away my greatest tactical advantage without seeking gain, then kissed her, got her off, and left the shed with a hard-on.
Yeah, no.
If Derek had wanted a plan to ensure that he fucked up this job completely, that plan would look something like this past week. He hadn’t managed to persuade Jenna into coming back to the U.S., but he had made out with her and given away his strongest leverage without using it to his advantage.
Jimmy’s dog tags and the photo were supposed to be the breaking point, the moment when this softer approach turned into hardball, pushing Jenna’s emotions to the edge. But Derek had handed her the dog tags and the photo without saying the things he’d planned to say.
Your brother wouldn’t want you to die here, too. He would want to know that his Punk was far away from danger. Please come back with me, Jenna—for Jimmy’s sake.
No, he hadn’t said it.
Instead, he’d told her things he’d never told anyone, whining about his childhood, explaining to her how Jimmy had died. Then he’d tried to comfort her, kissed her mouth and her breasts, and given her a hand job. Would it make any difference if he explained in his report that her breasts were amazing?
He didn’t think so.
Operatives didnotget sexually involved with people under their protection. Derek had helped write the damned rule book. If any other Cobra operative had done this sort of shit, Derek would fire him—or her—on the spot.
The really fucked-up part of this was that Derek knew he wasn’t finished.
He wanted her. He wanted Jenna.
The need for her burned through him, leaving him horny and grouchy and strangely off-balance. He could still taste her, smell her, feel the satin of those lush breasts in his hands, see the expression of bliss on her face when she’d come.
What thehellwas wrong with him?
He’d never been the kind of man who got turned inside out by women. He’d always been able to control his emotions and to separate his mind from his body when his body became a liability from physical pain, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, or sheer horniness. He’d taken pride in his ability to get people to do what he needed them to do through whatever means necessary—charm, fear, threats, violence. Hell, during his military years, he’d talked young Afghan men into betraying their AQ and Taliban relatives. What was so difficult about this job?
Jenna.
Somehow, she’d gotten under his skin. Maybe it was just the fact that she was Jimmy’s little sister, or maybe—
The crunch of boots on snow brought his head around.
Farzad walked up to the window, his expression troubled.
Derek powered down the satellite connection on his iPad, slid the device into its locked drawer, and climbed out to see what Farzad needed.
“Two boys arrived at the gate. They say Daesh fighters attacked a village about twenty kilometers east of here, killing the men and raping the women and girls. Some of the women are pregnant and need help.”
Daesh—the Arabic name for Islamic State and the name IS fighters hated most—were known to be in Afghanistan. That’s where they’d gotten their start. Now that their so-called caliphate had fallen, fighters were fleeing wherever they could, stealing food and money, killing and raping fellow Muslims and non-Muslims alike. For all of their talk of Islam, IS was nothing more than a band of murdering thugs.
“How did the boys get away?”
“They said their mothers hid them. They walked all this way. We are feeding them now.”
“Did they bring the injured women here?”
“They say the women are too afraid to come because they feel shame. They want us to send midwives to the village.”