As he passed the medi-van, in the shadows close to the opened doors at the front of the vehicle, he caught a figure moving.
The form wore the familiar dark mask, and rather than a tuxedo, he was pulling on the utility belt that went with the mission clothes he had obviously changed into.
He hadn’t known who or what Beauregard Grant was until Killian had met him at the warehouse. He’d had no idea Beau had been doing the same thing Jordan had done more than fifteen years before.
He was creating a background, an identity, and a history that would put him in place where the Elite Ops needed him most.
He was a dead man walking. But if the way he was staring at the young woman sitting on the van’s gurney with her back to him, her eyes closed, tears still whispering down her cheeks, then he was a haunted man.
Jordan could hear Stephen still screaming at Journey from the car he’d been placed in. Furious, filthy curses and accusations as the young woman appeared deaf to the words.
But he knew she wouldn’t be.
Placing Tehya in the car, he turned to Noah as he loped over and nodded to Stephen’s granddaughter. “Get her out of here. Send her to Ireland until this blows over. Let her stay in the castle. She’s going to need time.”
“Where are you heading?” Noah tilted his head to stare at Tehya sitting silently in the back.
“Home,” Jordan breathed out, suddenly feeling the tension easing inside him. “I’m going home, Noah.”
* * *
As they drove away with Nik at the wheel, Jordan sat in the back, his woman cradled in his arms, thanking God for her safety.
Noah couldn’t help but grin, even as thankfulness swept through him with enough force to weaken him.
He had a feeling that for the first time in far too many years, Jordan had found home.
* * *
What was she supposed to believe?
Tehya watched Jordan, desperate, terrified to believe he truly loved her as he carried her into the bedroom of the suite Nik had escorted them to.
He kicked the door closed before lowering her slowly to the floor and locking the door behind him.
Her lips parted, the question she needed to ask almost falling from her lips before he laid a finger over them.
“Not yet.” His expression was fierce, demanding. “Not yet, Tehya. Let me know you’re still living, that you’re still here with me first. God, let me get that nightmare out of my head.”
His lips covered hers.
Shock vibrated through her at the agony, the pure emotion that filled his voice before he kissed her as though he were dying for her.
Deep, drugging, his arms surrounded her, enfolded her as he held her to him, his lips slanting over hers as his tongue licked at hers.
The remnants of her gown were dealt with quickly, the material falling at her bare feet as he shrugged his jacket from his shoulders.
Suddenly hungry for the feel of him, Tehya pulled at the buttons of his shirt, several snapping free and falling forgotten on the floor until she could spread the edges apart, her fingers finding warm, hard flesh.
Hunger rose between them like an inferno, blazing across their flesh, searing their emotions as they hurriedly undressed each other.
Tehya breathed out roughly as she felt him lift her, the strength in his arms making her feel dainty, helpless, and protected as he laid her back in the middle of the bed.
Reaching for him, Tehya drew him to her, her breath hitching in her chest; the overwhelming feeling of complete absorption coming from him was intoxicating.
It was different. Each touch was laced with something that hadn’t been there before. A tender possessiveness he had kept leashed until now.
His fingertips stroked along her breasts, following the curve, feathering against her nipples and tightening them further as she arched to him.