The headlines alone would be nearly enough to explain everything and close the case for the public, Mako thought. Eventually, they’d identify some of them. Home grown terrorists. Mercenaries. All the bodies were found. No survivors. The explosion had guaranteed that.
He was just crossing the moonlit field toward the woods when he heard the sound of sirens in the distance.
He wasn’t even pissed off. In fact, a great calm had settled over him. There was great comfort in knowing that he’d guessed right. He’d cheated death at the last minute. He could have saved the lives of the rest of his crew, he supposed. But in this kind of work, everyone was on his own.
As he made his way toward the main road, he had to hand it to the men that hired him. It was a truly brilliant move to wrap everything up so tidily.
But even brilliant plans could go wrong.
Darius McCann had ruined their plan by simply refusing to die. Mako planned to do some ruining himself.
He wasn’t angry. But he was certainly going to get even.
Chapter 60
The nurses and doctors knocked and then just entered, so Amy knew it couldn’t be one of them at the door. She grabbed a tissue out of a box on the bedside table, wiped her face, and blew her nose. It had to be Lieutenant Connelly, who’d probably remembered more questions to ask. She sat up in the bed.
Or maybe the lieutenant had decided to let her use the phone, after all. Amy much preferred the second scenario.
She called to whoever it was to come in.
“For a minute I thought you were already asleep,” McCann said, poking his head in.
Amy was mad as hell at herself for the way her pulse jumped at the sight of him. Something was fluttering inside of her as if she were twelve years old. What was wrong with her? She’d known he was in the hospital. Lieutenant Connelly had mentioned that when Amy asked about him earlier. She’d never imagined he’d stop to see her.
“No,” she said. “No sleep.”
“Can I come in?”
She should have said no. “Yeah, sure.”
He didn’t have any right to look this good. Not after what they’d gone through. And especially not when she was looking like a dish rag.
Amy noticed that he closed the door. Nerves pushed to the surface. If she weren’t in a hospital bed, Amy figured she’d be running away by now. She was horrible in situations like this. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to avoid being nervous and acting like an idiot. That was why she’d refused to date after her divorce. It had been a miracle that her ex-husband, Ryan, had even lasted through their early dates. Maybe she should have thought of that jitteriness as a warning. No, thinking of Kaitlyn and Zack, Amy was thrilled that her life had taken the shape that it had.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asked as he approached her.
He moved it. “It’s still numb from whatever they injected in it. But it should be as good as new.”
His dark gaze moved over her. She felt a charge pass through her, electrifying something at her very core. There was something very intimate happening now. He was interested and she couldn’t figure how he could be, considering how horrible she looked.
“How’s Brody?” she asked in a rush.
“Sleeping. He has another surgery in the morning.”
Amy already knew that. She looked around her as he walked toward the bed. “How’s your sub?”
“They’re still working on her. I don’t know if they’ll be able to save her or not.”
He reached the side of the bed.
“How did your debriefing go?”
“Good. Very good,” he answered.
“How come they gave you a change of clothes, and I’m still in a hospital gown with a turban wrapped around my head?”
“Maybe because you look better in it?”
“That’s not an answer,” she told him, shivering as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “How’s—”
“Amy,” he said, taking her hand.
She hadn’t realized how cold her hands were until his touch warmed them.
“It’s my turn to ask some questions,” he said with a smile.
“This is not your ship. You’re not in command… uh, Commander.”
“Well, we aren’t in a shipyard. So you’re not in charge, either, Ms. Russell.”
“Amy to you.”
“Only if you call me Darius.”
“Darius McCann. Persian and Irish,” she said with a grim. “Do you have a horrible temper?”
“You’re about to find out.”
“Ooh, I’m almost frightened.” Amy felt the most comfortable when they were kidding around. “What have I done now?”
“You were trying to control the conversation.”
“You’re mistaken, Commander… Darius,” she said. “I was being socially adept. Charming. Making sure there’d be no dead air in the room.”
He caressed her hand. “There doesn’t seem to be any dead air in any room while you and I are together in it.”
“Are you bragging?”
“No, only stating the fact, ma’am.”
As far as Amy was concerned, his smile was the most dangerous part of him. It gave him a boyish and vulnerable look that was even more irresistible than his clean-cut, chiseled features. And it made her lose her head. She looked down at their joined hands, not knowing what to expect, or what she was expected to do. She was totally out of practice.
“You should know that I’m all talk,” she murmured. “Nothing else.”
He lifted her chin with his hand until she was looking into his eyes. “I don’t know. I think I’d like to find that out for myself.”
His hand slipped around the nape of her neck, and he drew her mouth to his.
Darius McCann knew how to kiss. Well enough that Amy felt all of her inhibitions suddenly begin to slip away.
She didn’t know who was more out of breath — or whose hands were straying more — when they broke the kiss.
“This is much better. You are not all talk,” he told her, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. He still wasn’t letting her go. “Do you know the one thing I was wishing for on that submarine?”
“That we’d make it through alive?”
He laughed. “Okay. I was wishing for two things.”
“That I’d occasionally follow your orders?”
“Three things.”
“That—” She was silenced by another kiss. She liked his technique. This kiss was hotter than the last, and it took longer for them to surface for air. How long had it been since anyone had kissed her like that?
“I give up. What was the third thing?” she asked.
“That we meet again, have another chance at it, in a different place, a different time. Hopefully, under less stressful conditions.”
His words clutched her heart. But her conscience wouldn’t let her enjoy the moment. Dammit.
“Please tell me you’re not married, Commander McCann.”
“I’m not. Never have been.”
She considered that for a few seconds and shook her head. “I still think what we’re doing here isn’t fair to Lieutenant Connelly.”
He stared at her for a moment and then smiled. “No more than what we’re doing isn’t fair to your ex-husband. Sarah and I broke off our relationship a while ago.”
“What’s a while?”
“More than a year.”
“Does she know you’re here with me?”
He nodded.
“Does she have any objection to it?”