“Sage, my heart…we could’ve gone into that shithole last night, found bags of diamonds, and I’d have been less knocked on my ass. You are the gift I never expected to find again. This…you, here…it’s the fulfillment of my craziest, wildest dreams. And yet I got you back here, and I treated you like—” Beneath his breath, he gave himself a filthy verbal flogging. “Don’t you understand? Damn it, you should be wrapped in satin, sleeping on fine linen, and treated like a queen. And all you’ve gotten is—”
“No.” She smashed her hand over his mouth. “I should be wrapped in you. Sleeping next to you.” When his throat constricted on a swallow, the backs of her eyes pricked again. “You obstinate dork. I don’t want to be your queen under glass, okay? I just want…”
“I know.” He said it after pulling her hand away, though he kept her fingers curled inside his. “And I’m here.” He pulled her knuckles against his lips. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You have me here, Sage. Always.”
He released her hand. But the look on his face made Sage push it right back, looping her grip around his neck. She twisted her fingers into his hair, a silent command to keep his gaze locked on her. To the man’s credit, he endured her scrutiny. He smiled, if that was what the look could be called. Both edges of his mouth wavered as if stabbed into place by dull thumbtacks. It reminded her of the event posters in the mess back on base. Lame messages proclaimed in half-peeling tempura paint.
Her stomach coiled into a tighter knot. Dread needled her whole body.
Damn it. Damn it. Yep, lame message was definitely the case this time.
“I have you,” she echoed, “always. But…not in all ways.” When Garrett rushed his stare back toward the window, she persisted, “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Sage.” He sighed heavily. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
“Of course it isn’t. You’ve already made up your own ass-backward mind, haven’t you? You still think you’re going to turn into some kind of sadistic beast and hurt me, so you’re just not going to let me in. You’re still going to slink off into your shadows and fuck another by-the-hour tart because you think—”
“I didn’t fuck anyone.”
“And that’s why you can’t look at me as you say it?”
He wheeled back around. “I fucked you, okay?” And stabbed his hands through his hair. “I drank too much. Passed out. And I dreamed about you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And the tarts simply let you, yeah? Just sat there and rubbed your feet while you slept it off, and their perfume clung to you by magical osmosis?”
He exhaled in shaky spurts. “We had a hostess. She helped clean me up. At least until I stumbled to the shower.”
“Ah.” Another bitter laugh tumbled out. She folded her arms. “‘Helped clean you up.’ So that’s what they call it now.”
Garrett straightened. Dipped a small nod…as his eyes filled once more with that weird something. Only now, it wasn’t so elusive. Now, Sage knew exactly what it was.
Regret.
He shuffled backward. Jammed hands into his back pockets. “Maybe this is for the better.”
She swallowed down a sob. Bastard. You beautiful, fucked-up bastard.
“For the better,” she uttered. “Really, Garrett? This is for the fucking better? This what, damn you. Tell me, what the hell am I to you now?” She grabbed the ring again. Held it up between them. “Is this going to just become an expensive little amulet?”
A pulse rammed in his jaw. “That’s not fair.”
“That’s truth. This ring is supposed to stand for sharing our lives, Garrett. For sharing, not for running from each other!”
The accusation ignited him. Thank God. He surged toward her, his face curled with ferocious intent. Weirdly, his rage thrilled her. She could still get to him. There was hope.
“So what now?” She knew it was a push. But desperate times called for having girl balls. “Do you have the answer for this one? What do we do? Do we define what we have left over? What am I going to be now? Your roommate? Your responsibility? Your precious ‘mission package’? Do I get to be ‘turned over’ once we’re back so I’m not your damn concern anymore?”
He jerked back. His whole body coiled. There was no way she couldn’t feel it. His thick thighs shook the bed as he prepared his body to act on the bail-out his mind had clearly commanded. Sage went taut, too—and prepared for the Arctic cold that would take over as soon as he bolted.
But he didn’t leave.
As he’d promised, he stayed.
He lifted his hand to engulf hers, surrounding her fingers plus the ring inside a grip that bordered on crushing. The sight of him consumed her senses with equal effect. She was swept away anew by his rugged beauty, suffocated in the fire of his powerful, unmerciful focus.
“You’re mine.”
The words rumbled from the depths of his chest. She was left with no doubt about their intent. They were vows, not just syllables.
“You’re mine, Sage. Call in any deity or god or spirit you want. I’ll swear by their names and all their fucking saints and angels, too. As far as I’m concerned, it took them all working together to bring you back to me anyway.”
She parted her lips, wanting to say something, but choked back. She longed to kiss and wring his neck at once. He didn’t make things easier by sliding to the floor next to her, continuing to grip her hand. “You’re not a gift I’m going to waste. I swear by this ring and everything it still means to me, you will be safe. I’ll protect you from any animal, asshole, criminal, or deviant who thinks they can lay so much as a fingernail of harm against you. And yeah”—he finally let her go and crossed back to the window—“that includes protecting you from me too.”
Sage didn’t shift. At last, she let out a hard sigh. The hard hunch of his shoulders told her he was ready to keep sparring with her, but what good was it going to do? The maddening bear had made up his mind and taken his position. If the poles of the whole damn earth flipped and told him that position wasn’t right anymore, he’d fight to the death for it. Fate had stripped him of getting to do it for over a year, and now the man wasn’t just making up for lost time but doubling his efforts. To him, the stance made sense—because to him, her number-one enemy was only a breath away. His own.
Fine. If that was the way he wanted to look at things, that was what she’d work with.
All she had to do now was give him bigger enemies to fight.
You want to keep me safe, Sergeant Hawkins? That’s peachy by me, baby. Let’s rumble.
Chapter Seven
The embassy made the decision to send Sage and Rayna home on a commercial flight instead of a military transport. The news came down early the next morning, and Garrett was packed and ready to head to Suvarnabhumi Airport by three that afternoon.
On one hand, he was glad they’d be enjoying the marathon-length journey in civilian comfort. On the much larger other hand, he already sensed Sage wasn’t going to let him relax during the next twenty-four hours. She boarded the van with a serene smile and a graceful glide that didn’t match the fuming woman who’d turned her back on him in bed last night, unwilling to hear his explanation about what had happened—or, more accurately, what hadn’t happened—at the Half-Moon. Thinking back on all that now only reconfirmed his suspicion. Sometime between giving him that cold shoulder and this afternoon’s warm smile, she’d hatched a plan of some kind—and something told him he wasn’t going to be happy he couldn’t pound a few irritated fists into the fuselage of a 747.