Cover Fire (Valiant Knox) Read online

  She tried to fight a smile, but lost, transforming her features until she looked younger and a little more carefree. “You are an absolute dork.”

  “But I’m your dork, apparently, at least for now.” He stood, gratified when he didn’t feel too dizzy and his legs not too weak. “Hey. Why don’t we use me as bait? That kind of plan always works out so well.”

  “Sure, right around the same time I contact CI and tell them I’m still alive. Double bait would have to be more effective.”

  “Nah, pretty sure I’m irresistible.” He grabbed the IV stand to take with him, since he was still attached to all kinds of things. “So, shower for two?”

  He wasn’t serious…not fully anyway. Humor had always been his defense when it came to dark things lurking in the shadows. But honestly, if she’d misinterpreted his jesting and agreed, he probably wouldn’t tell her he hadn’t meant it. No, more like he’d be stripped down in record time, recent surgery or not.

  “Sorry, cowboy, but it’s not your lucky day. I’ll be standing guard out here.”

  “Again, with that hint of sarcasm. Its making me reconsider my reputation.”

  A conspiratorial smile crossed her features as she went over to the far corner of the room and took the remote from the shelf that portioned off the shower alcove. By the time he’d maneuvered himself and the IV stand over—wearing him out ridiculously fast—she had everything set up for him.

  She handed him the remote and then stepped out past the screen, all detached and professional like he imagined an actual bodyguard would be.

  Since he’d stopped that heated moment between them the evening before, she’d definitely disconnected from him. And after him almost getting killed, it was like she’d increased that distance. They were stuck together and she was amiable, but he got the sense she’d put barriers up between them that were as effective as an actual wall.

  Maybe she had the right of it in separating them, because if they became involved, if they let feelings and emotions come into the equation, then one or both of them might end up distracted at a critical moment. And this wasn’t the time for distractions. Not if they wanted to survive.

  But despite the logic, despite knowing their time together was counting down, and Jenna had a fatalistic belief about the outcome for herself, he couldn’t quite kick that warm feeling he’d gotten when he’d woken up from surgery to see her sitting next to his bed. Or the sense that maybe he’d been wrong when he’d assumed she was playing a part and not being herself.

  What if he’d been wrong, and this was the real Jenna? The intelligent, humorous, warm down-to-earth girl was the actual person behind the CI agent, and he’d pushed that away? It would make him ten kinds of idiot, and he’d hurt her feelings when he’d said no to her.

  But before anything else, he had to make sure that damned coward of a CI agent—who was lurking in the shadows instead of facing him like a man—didn’t succeed in tying him up as a loose end. Or discover Jenna was very much alive. If she was going to protect him, then he was damn well going to return the favor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jenna kept her back to the screen as Seb showered, because if she couldn’t see the indistinct, shadowy outline on the partition, it was easier not to think about the fact he was naked and wet a mere few feet away.

  The man had just come out of major surgery twelve hours ago. It was beyond inappropriate to let her thoughts stray toward fantasies of joining him in the shower. Still, she was going to blame him for that, since his usual flirting humor had put the idea in her head in the first place. Seb was a walking six-foot-tall, dark-eyed package of distraction.

  The water shut off and the screen retracted. Leaning heavily on the IV pole, Seb emerged wearing a pair of blue-striped pj pants and nothing else.

  She hurried over to take his arm. “Maybe showering wasn’t the best idea.”

  His expression was stubborn as they crossed back to the bed. “I needed to wash the dried blood off.”

  “I’m sure we could have gotten a nurse to sponge you down. You would have loved that.”

  He eyed her as they reached the bed then sat on the edge.

  “You think I would get off on some random nurse coming in here and giving me a sponge bath? Just what sort of lecherous bastard do you take me for?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’d take at least two nurses.” He cracked a grin, leaving her with the realization he’d completely suckered her. “Maybe you could join in. Be one hell of a party.”

  She picked up one of the pillows and whacked him in his good arm, leaving him laughing and ducking.

  “Okay, sorry. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Plus, you’ve been so serious since I woke up. Maybe I should give you a sponge bath.”

  “You’re a jerk.” She took another half-hearted swing with the pillow, but this time he caught it, then used it to tug her closer. “Keep that up, and I’ma-gonna have to retaliate.”

  “The flyboy who got his wings clipped figuratively and literally is going to take me on? Terrifying.” She went to step back, but he transferred his grip from the pillow to her forearm.

  “Those are fighting words. Now I really am going to have to defend my manly pride.”

  “Do I want to know what that’s going to involve?” She let him draw her nearer, even knowing his reservations, and the fact that this couldn’t lead anywhere but hurt.

  “When I work it out myself, you’ll be the first to know,” he murmured, guiding her closer still, closing the gap between them.

  “Seb—” She set a gentle palm in the middle of his chest as his hands found her waist.

  “You going to tell me this is a bad idea, ’cause I sure as hell already got that memo.” He leaned in and kissed the underside of her jaw, sending a shiver cascading down her spine, making her want to melt into his arms. Instead she locked her muscles, but couldn’t help her fingers catching onto his shoulders.

  “Then why—”

  His lips moved upward, stealing her words as he nipped at her earlobe and she had to clench her jaw over a moan.

  “Damned if I know. But apparently, I almost checked out last night. Maybe it’s one of those reaffirming life things. Or maybe it’s misplaced gratitude.” He leaned back far enough to stare into her eyes. “Or maybe you’re so far under my skin, compromised my feelings so much, I can’t think of anything but you and this—”

  He caught her mouth in a brief, hot, deep kiss, setting fire to every nerve ending in her body.

  “Even though I’ve never been in more danger,” he said against her lips. “Even though I know I have to keep my head on straight and not get distracted by anything, when you get close enough, when I see you smile, it’s like nothing else matters except getting my hands all over you.”

  She grabbed in a slicing breath, striving for control. But damn it, the man had successfully breached every one of her defenses, and he had absolutely no idea he was the only person in years to take down her much-valued self-control and detachment. She couldn’t find the will or energy to fortify the barriers. Instead, she sank her hands into his damp hair and kissed him back.

  For the first time in forever, she let everything else fall away. She was just a girl kissing a guy and enjoying every sparking, heated moment.

  Seb’s hands tightened on her waist and he pulled her until she was standing between his legs. The kiss deepened, got a little wilder, her heart picking up speed and free-falling like their shuttle had the first day she’d met him.

  After a long moment, he broke the kiss, blowing out an uneven breath. “As much as I like where this is going, I don’t really want to be having tentage issues whenever the next sub-doctor or nurse comes in to check on me.”

  She bit her lip over a grin. Charming and typical that he’d make a joke at a time like this, before things got too heavy or serious.

  He brought a hand up to rest along her jawline, his gaze roaming her face as if searching for something.
r />   “This is you, right? Not some made-up personality in a long line of missions?”

  It probably would have been smarter to claim the lie. But his dark eyes were focused on her with near-vulnerable intensity. After everything he’d been through in the past days, he probably deserved the truth.

  Her heart skipped a beat, because being honest and open wasn’t the way she did things. But with him, it was what she wanted more than anything—to be honest and open and have nothing between them. Especially considering her life was effectively over. She’d have to take on a new identity—this one permanent. If she could spend a few last days being herself around Seb, then she was damn well going to take it, no matter how selfish it might make her.

  The smile she sent him was a little forced, because letting herself be stripped bare was unfamiliar and daunting.

  “I’d almost forgotten who I was until I met you.” She traced her fingers over the contours of his muscled shoulder. “I’d been buried beneath all that appearance-altering tech, taken one assignment after another, been nothing but an agent who served the greater good. But deep down, I knew I was lost, and I knew I was getting tired of it. I just didn’t know how to find my way out.”

  “So in some ways, CI trying to have you killed wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. It gave you a way out.”

  She met his intense gaze. “No, you were the one who gave me a way out. If you hadn’t offered to help me, I would have gone right back in—different face, different persona—on a suicide mission to find out who ordered my execution. You made me want to be myself again. You made me want to survive, even if I have to disappear from your life once this is all over.”

  Some kind of emotion darkened his eyes, tightened his features a little. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair back from her face. “Maybe—”

  A knock sounded at the door. Clearing her throat and swallowing down her emotions, she stepped away as a soldier in an officer’s dress uniform stepped into the room.

  “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time, Sub-Lieutenant?”

  Seb kicked his legs up on the bed and shifted to lean against the pillows. “Can I help you with something?”

  Jenna glanced from the newcomer to Seb, who’d barely sounded polite to the man who was at least one rank higher than him.

  “I’m Lieutenant Caleb—”

  “I know who you are,” Seb cut in, his voice flat and definitely not friendly.

  “And clearly, you know why I’m here,” the lieutenant muttered, walking farther into the room and stopping a few feet from the end of the bed.

  “Yeah, I know why you’re here, and I’ll be happy to tell you for your official report that it’s a load of shit. Need me to spell that for you? S. H. I. T.”

  The lieutenant didn’t look particularly impressed at Seb’s snark. “Look, Rayne. I’m here doing a job, the same as the rest of you.”

  “Yeah? Well the rest of us don’t have the power to see Commander Yang stripped of his command.” Seb crossed his arms, expression nothing short of resentful and furious.

  She’d heard something about this when she’d gotten back from her last assignment, right before Seb had taken her to the ground a few days ago.

  Until very recently, Commander Yang had been a CSS prisoner of war, presumed dead for over a year. When he’d returned, the UEF had reinstated his post, but with limited power compared to what he’d had before. And then it had become apparent the Valiant Knox had been infiltrated by CSS double agents acting to undermine and take down the Knox from the inside out. Bureaucratic to the extreme, UEF had sent in Lieutenant Caleb Prescott to review Yang’s post and make recommendations about whether his command had been compromised.

  No wonder Seb was pissed. As were nearly all the personnel on board the battleship. Commander Yang had been deeply respected by his people before he was taken by the CSS. After he’d escaped the enemy and returned, that respect had increased tenfold.

  Lieutenant Prescott was, no doubt, the most hated person on this ship, and she couldn’t imagine anyone was making his job easy.

  “I’m not here to strip Commander Yang of his post,” the lieutenant replied, the almost-resigned tone in his voice indicating he’d probably said it a million times already. “I’ve been ordered to speak with everyone on board the Knox and write up my findings. So if you want to help Yang, the best thing you can do is stop being a jackhole and answer my questions.”

  One of Seb’s eyebrows shot up at the insult, but funnily enough, he almost looked like he was impressed with Prescott.

  Before he could answer, the door opened and Sub-Doctor Moore stepped in. When his gaze landed on Prescott, he got the same pissed-off glare Seb had. “Prescott, what the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Rayne was next on my list. Thought it’d be easier to catch him while he was tied down, so to speak. Can’t avoid me when he’s laid up on a gurney.”

  Moore grabbed Prescott’s upper arm. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  Prescott shrugged out of the doctor’s grip, expression now matching the rest of the hostility in the room. “Rayne’s not exactly at death’s door. I’m sure he’s more than capable of answering a few questions.”

  “Not about that.” Moore shoved the lieutenant a few steps toward the door. “About how you even have the gall to step foot on med level. That you’re either careless enough or a big enough asshole to show your face here. If Sacha sees you—”

  Prescott held up both hands. “Fine. I’m leaving. But this is just a stay of execution. For both of you. I’m going to have to speak to medical personnel eventually as well, whether Doctor Dalton likes it or not.”

  The lieutenant stalked out of the room, Moore muttering some choice insults under his breath.

  “Can you believe that?” Moore turned to face them, coming over to the bed. “I’ll give him a statement. It’ll start with screw and end with you.”

  Seb grinned at the sub-doctor. “I like it. Has a kind of timeless poetry.”

  “He was just doing his job.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d thought about them. But damn it, she knew a thing or two about people thinking the worst simply because of a job title. And it hadn’t seemed like Prescott had been happy about what he was doing. They should cut the guy some slack—he was probably feeling bad enough without the entire crew of the Knox alienating him further.

  Both Seb and Sub-Doctor Moore were staring at her as if she’d sprouted a few extra limbs.

  “You think he wants to be here, investigating a man you all clearly hold in such high regard? Who would volunteer for that kind of post?”

  “An ass clown?” Seb suggested.

  “A bottom feeder,” Moore replied.

  “Douche nozzle,” Seb shot back.

  “Jerk face—”

  “Okay, children!” she cut in loudly over Moore. The two of them shared a look that told her they were enjoying themselves immensely. She could only imagine the kind of malarkey that went on during these poker nights everyone kept mentioning.

  Moore cleared his throat. “Anyway, I did come in here for a reason. Sacha let me know I could discharge you later today, so long as everything is looking good. But you have to go back to your cabin, and spend at least the next twenty-four hours in bed. I’m sure you can find something to occupy yourself.”

  At the sideways glance Moore cut her, a flush of heat rushed up her neck, leaving her blushing for the first time in about a decade.

  “Sorry, but he’s on his own with that one.” She crossed her arms, hoping her cheeks weren’t burning as brightly as they felt.

  “Solo mission.” Seb grimaced. “That’s harsh. Sure you don’t even want to give me a hand?”

  “You’re lucky I can’t walk out on you right now.” She shot Seb a glare as Moore laughed.

  “You wouldn’t, even if you could,” he replied with a smug smile.

  Damn him, he was right. The irreverent, boyish—apparently sometimes immature—side
of Seb’s personality charmed and entertained her way too easily.

  Moore checked a few reading on the screen in the bulkhead above Seb’s gurney, seeming satisfied. “Looking good, bro. Should have you out of here after lunch.”

  “Thanks, Ace.” Seb held out a hand and Moore took it, doing some typical macho-guy clap-shake-fist-pump thing.

  Moore pointed a finger at him as he backed up a few steps. “As soon as you’re all healed up, I need beer money.”

  Seb scowled at him. “Tell me when and I’ll be there. My poker playing ability wasn’t damaged.”

  “Let’s hope not, or I might have to actually start buying my own beer.”

  Seb used his good arm and chucked a pillow at Moore, who easily dodged it, and then escaped the room.

  The grin on Seb’s face said it all—the sub-doctor’s check-in had worked much better than any kind of medication. Before, she’d simply felt like an outsider when faced with the bonds that went beyond friendship Seb had forged on this ship. But now that sense went deeper, to a place where she realized she was missing out on the most important things in life. What was the point in fighting, when the reason for fighting was hollow at best?

  When Seb went out in his jet, he went with the drive and determination to protect the Valiant Knox, because people he cared about, people he loved were on board and losing them would be the worst thing that could happen to him.

  When she went out, she was following orders. Of course she protected the Knox and cared about what happened to the people on board, but that was more of a professional courtesy, and because she’d been ordered to do so.

  She’d never had the kind of relationship Seb took for granted day in, day out, and the sudden yearning for something like that was like acid in her veins.

  “Be back to discharge you later,” Moore called from the passageway as he left.

  Jenna shook her head as she rounded the bed and sat in the chair she’d slept in. “Ever thought maybe you should quit playing poker? The way I hear it—”