Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Shadowing Milly Page 2
She also had a huge Russian blue cat named…
Shadow…
Okay, that made me a little weirded out.
It was just coincidence.
Just coincidence…
I looked deeper, checking out her dorm when she was an undergraduate, combing her picture through facial recognition filters to see what else would pop up.
Oh…
That’s where she ran into Nastia.
They were students in graduate school, both going for political science.
From a snapshot taken during one class, they were presenting an assignment together.
That was five years ago.
They both looked so happy.
Innocent.
And now…
Now Milly had officially stepped in it.
But why?
And what had Nastia’s security team meant when they said it wouldn’t work?
That Nastia’s father—Kazimir Sokolov, the Russian oligarch—would not allow it.
Was Nastia trying to defect?
Was she turning on her billionaire father?
Maybe.
And maybe she’d decided to shed the fabulous life of a filthy rich party girl.
Anything was possible.
I kept my eyes peeled, watching for any sign of the Russian security team, but I’d slipped a tracking device in her purse. She might change jackets, but it was doubtful she would swap out her purse—it was Fendi, and expensive. So I leaned back and waited for her to move more than the two hundred square feet of her floor of the State Department.
I was combing through her personal emails, trying to find where she’d started getting back in touch with Nastia when I heard my phone double blip. Milly was on the move, having moved past the confines of her floor.
Could be a meeting, and at three thirty in the afternoon, you’d expect it to be.
But no more than two minutes later she came marching out of the building, jacket on, purse in the crook of her arm, off toward downtown Manhattan.
I followed at a safe distance, watching her intently, scenting the air as if I could smell her—which I couldn’t. It’s freaking Manhattan. I smelled everything from car exhaust to burnt hot dogs and any of a million other scents.
And then she ducked on into a small, generic café.
I counted to ten and went in after her.
She was seated in the back, her back to the wall.
She was ordering from a waitress, so she missed me entering.
I felt a flush of heat flash over my flesh.
She’d recognized me earlier.
She had to have.
Right?
The way she’d rushed forward and pressed her hand to the window of the cab.
I ordered a black coffee at the counter and took a seat off to Milly’s nine.
She had her eyes trained on the door, so I let my eyes drink her in blatantly.
She wasn’t as skinny as she was in high school. She had some muscle through her torso, and her legs were both strong and curvy.
Her peaches and cream complexion was still nearly flawless. And her freckles...
Damn…
I was getting hard again, just thinking about those freckles.
A fantasy of her wrapping her sweet pink lips around my cock almost made my balls shoot off in my jeans.
Shiiit…
Suddenly Milly sat up straighter, her attention laser-beamed on the front door.
A tall, lanky man entered the coffee shop. Young, late twenties, dressed like a low-level IRS accountant… except for the shock of spiky brown hair atop his head.
He made a bee-line straight for Milly.
Is this her boyfriend?
No… couldn’t be.
Could it?
Immediately I wanted to squeeze the life right out of him. I could already feel my hands wrapped around the other man’s neck.
It would be so easy…
It would feel so good…
And then Milly removed a folded up envelope from the pocket of her jacket.
The envelope from the Russian Princess.
She passed the envelope to the man and he took it, holding it in his long, thin hands as if it were precious.
The look on his face was of a man in love.
Luckily for him, he was in love with the Russian Princess, not…
My Milly…
Just looking at her my heart pounded out the word mine.
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine…
The man opened the envelope, pulled out a folded piece of paper and then unfolded it. Color radiated up his neck and to his face, and he smiled as he read.
Okay… what the fuck was happening here?
He won’t allow it…
Russian Princess—
Meeting a low-level career State Department employee (Milly)—
A passed envelope.
A whispered conversation I couldn’t hear.
The Russian Princess’ security detail engaged.
But they weren’t following Milly now, and they didn’t seem to be threatening her either.
I’d thought Nastia had wanted to defect, but now…
Now that I’d seen this willowy geek turn all shades of infatuated over a letter…
Oh, fuck me… again!
This was about the Russian Princess falling in love with an accountant nerd, one her daddy (the goddamn oligarch) doesn’t approve of.
And Milly was acting as a matchmaker?
My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my skull.
No fucking way…
All this over a couple of twenty-somethings falling in love?
My mind couldn’t process that Milly wasn’t really in that much danger.
Well, anytime you dealt with the Russian government you took your chances big time.
But…
Well, this just seemed ridiculous.
Was Milly getting involved with all this just to help this couple get together?
Really?
And I’d inserted myself into this to protect her.
I closed my eyes for a beat, slowly shaking my head in disgust.
I’m a professional. I’m highly trained. I’m one of the deadliest assets in the world.
And I’m following my high school sweetheart around like a puppy on a leash!
I opened my eyes to find the accountant guy getting up from the table—and Milly’s eyes locked on me.
Oh hell…
I couldn’t move—hell, I couldn’t freaking breathe. Her eyes had me pinned to my chair. Her sweet, beautiful lips were parted as she stood up from the table and walked straight for me.
I had to move…
I had to run…
I had to disappear in a fucking puff of smoke!
Like… now…
When she was no more than five feet away I stood up, pulling the stupid black cap from my head—the jig was up.
She stood there, not a foot away from me, her blue eyes burning into mine, that mouth of hers still open.
I licked my lips and took in a breath.
I needed to say something.
I needed to tell her so much.
I needed to tell her how much I still loved her.
I needed to tell her she needed to get away from me—I was defective, lethally so.
I need to touch her…
But nothing made it to my tongue.
I just stood there, looking down into those gorgeous blue peepers of hers.
My name fell from her lips—“Troy…”—and with that one word, her voice made every nerve in my body ignite.
Oh god…
And then she slapped me—no warning, no hesitation. One moment her eyes were locked on mine, the next she walloped me with a thunder-crack of a slap.
Every eye in the room turned to us.
“You asshole!” she hissed.
“Hey, Milly.” I didn’t so much as wince, though part of me wanted to hold the burning, stinging spot on
my face—to touch where she’d touched me.
Okay, I’m twisted. I think we’ve established that already.
She slapped me again, and though it hurt again, I wouldn’t have tried to duck it for all the money in the world.
I grinned at the pain.
Yeah… twisted.
Her pretty lips were in a tight line, and she threw her hands up in the air.
“Is that all you’ve got to say to me?”
No.
I love you.
I need you.
I’ve missed you every second of every day.
I wish…
I wish I was the man you needed, the man you deserved…
But I’m not.
I’m…
I’m the Shadow.
I pulled my gaze from her eyes. I couldn’t think looking at those eyes of hers.
Then I said, “So you’re playing matchmaker for the Russian Princess?”
She blinked at me. “What?”
She sounded raddled.
“Nastia Sokolov… you know? The daughter of Kazimir Sokolov, the Russian oligarch. You just passed a note for her.”
She bit her lip.
Oh, how I wanted to bite that lip too.
I could still remember the way she tasted.
Like a peach.
Fuck!
I pushed that shit out of my head.
Focus!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said softly.
Nice try.
“You’re not a school girl any longer. These are seriously dangerous people you’re playing around with.”
She stepped closer, so close I could smell her. I could feel the warmth coming from her skin—
My mind went offline for a beat or two as she spoke.
I had to rewind my mental tape to replay what she’d said.
“You disappear for twelve years and just pop up out of nowhere to tell me—” She’d stopped talking and was just staring at me.
Speak…
Say something…
Had she asked a question?
I took a breath to say… who the hell knows, but she held her hand up, anger reddening her eyes, rage hardening her expression and her body as she stood there.
Holy shit she was pissed.
“Are you… have you been following me?”
“Uh…”
Her eyes snapped open wide and she shot me through with them. “Have you been following me?”
“For a little over three hours, yes.” Okay, where the hell did that come from?
I’m a professional killer, liar, soldier, spy… but the truth just fell from lips.
For her…
She blinked and that adorable crinkle formed between her brows.
“When you manhandled me—”
“Saved you—”
“And stuffed me into a cab.”
“About five minutes before that,” I confessed.
Again, what the hell was wrong with my mouth?
That’s when I realized we were still the center of attention for the entire coffee shop.
“Can we sit down?” I asked, averting my eyes so she wouldn’t see how crazed I felt right then.
She blinked again a few times, nibbling on that lip of hers as she mauled over my request.
Damn, she was stubborn.
“Okay…”
Okay!
Great…
I stalked over to the table she’d abandoned and retrieved her coffee, then obediently walked back over to her, setting the coffee down carefully—trying to think what the hell I was going to tell her.
Not the truth.
Obviously…
I took a deep breath, a slide of my usual covert bullshit ready to drop into place—
“I’m a paramilitary surveillance agent and I’ve been watching Nastia Sokolov for three weeks.”
Wait!
“I was about to go on leave when you walked in—”
Stop!
“You were passed an envelope and her security team engaged.”
I beg you to stop…
“I thought they were going to take you into custody or hurt you.”
Big breath.
“I couldn’t let that happen.”
I couldn’t let anything happen to you.
Ever…
She stared at me for a solid minute, not one expression crossing her face.
Finally, “So you were watching Nastia, not me?”
I nodded.
“But you’re… stalking me now.”
Shiiit…
“I wanted—” Needed. “—to make sure you were safe.”
Milly rolled her eyes.
I’d forgotten how she could do that and make me feel like the scum of the earth instantly.
We’d started off as childhood enemies, only falling in lust, and then love later in high school.
“I had no idea you were playing juvenile note passing games with your friend. Not really the kind of thing I invest my time or skill-set to.”
Oh, that pissed her off. I could practically see flames flash behind her eyes.
And then she leaned forward. “So what is your skill-set, exactly? Do you do more than stalk young women, or are you just a professional peeping Tom?”
I grinned unabashedly. Bitch…
The same tough, sexy bitch I fell in love with.
The same girl that was my greatest fan for nearly three years.
The same woman that tried to be there for me when—
When my world went to shit and my family died.
I slammed the door on those thoughts.
I may not be able to control my nightmares, but I damn well controlled my mind when I was awake!
I leaned in, my face inches from hers.
“I specialize now in surveillance.”
She tilted her head and blew sarcastic air out of her cute little nose. “On that skill set, I’d say you’re subpar.”
I should have stopped, stood up and walked out.
Telling Milly more was plain dangerous.
But that look in her eyes—she thought I was a loser.
Not worth her time…
“In the thirty seconds it took me to push you into a cab and out of danger, evading the KGB trained security Nastia’s father had to watch her, I bugged you, saved you and got you to safety.”
Her eyes widened. “You bugged me?”
“It’s what I do,” I said contemptuously. “I deterred those same agents from following you to your work—not that I knew you were doing something as silly as passing notes in class—”
“Wait a—”
“I didn’t have to follow you since I bugged you, but I did pull your entire history—everything from graduating high school to what you had for lunch yesterday.”
She took an exasperated breath to say something.
“Chicken Diablo and a house salad—no onions or peppers—with sweet and sour dressing… and a peach iced tea.”
Her jaw dropped as I continued.
“In the past, I’ve done military extractions, political assassinations, babysitting duty, and sabotage.” I just said assassinations, didn’t I?
“So I… I lost my shit when I saw you and thought you were in danger. So yes, I let my guard down and you saw me. I let my feelings get in the way.”
Her eyes were trembling as she stared at me.
I’d scared her.
I forgot what else I was going to say to her.
She was horrified.
She was horrified by me.
“I won’t bother you again.” I stood up, my legs going on automatic pilot as I stalked out of the café, pushing through the glass doors and out onto the crowded street.
I needed to get the hell out of there.
I needed to go off on my hiatus and get really, really drunk.
I needed—
I needed Milly.
“Troy!”
I stopped in my tracks, all control ov
er my body lost just hearing her call out my name.
I turned around and watched as she made her way through the foot traffic of the busy street, and stopped mere inches from me.
“I’m sorry,” I said before I could stop myself. But I really was sorry.
She closed her eyes, her head shaking back and forth.
She was going to slap me. I was eighty-nine percent sure of it.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she looked up at me, lunged forward and up, wrapping her arms around my neck as her lips crashed into mine.
Yes…
My arms wrapped around her, pulling her against me, her lips parting as her warm, wet tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting me.
Oh god, yes…
This was the most amazing moment of my entire life and for the first time… for the first time ever, I didn’t care who was watching.
Milly was mine.
Mine…
I playfully nibbled on her bottom lip, making her sigh.
All mine.
Oh, so slowly Milly pulled her lips from mine.
No… not yet…
She looked up at me, her lips parted, her eyes soft and moist.
She was about to say something…
But instead, she shook her head and walked past me, on down the street, slowly disappearing into the crowds of Washington Avenue.
Chapter 3
Milly
I walked for a block or so, turned a corner… and fell up against the side of a building, tears burning down my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest, broken and hemorrhaging.
Troy…
Troy was alive.
Troy was here, in the city.
Troy was a freaking government trained and sanctioned killer.
This wasn’t happening…
It couldn’t be.
The boy I loved, the boy that left town and never came back… the man I’d just kissed was not that person.
Oh god…
Ohgodohgodohgod!
I leaned my forehead against the cool brick of the building’s façade.
Breathe… just breathe…
Okay, breathing was just making me dizzier.
I pushed away from the building and staggered a few steps, my legs not wanting to work.
One step after the next, I made my way down the block.
Was I crazy?
Had I just imagined that whole thing?
I had no love life—never really had.
I’d been on a lot of first dates, but none of them had made it to a second.
Not to mention a kiss.