Cynthia Eden - Sharpshooter

This wasn’t a hostage who had been taken a few days ago. This was a man who had been held for a very, very long time.

Logan stared at the man’s face.

And knew the mission was going to be personal.

GUNNER TIPPED THE bellman and shut the door. Then he flipped the lock and turned his attention to Sydney.

She stood in front of a big bed, her blond hair framing her face. Her eyes were wide and fixed on him, but she wasn’t smiling.

Sydney looked nervous. An unusual situation for her. As far as he knew, Sydney was never nervous.

He took a step toward her, and she tensed.

What the hell? “Sydney?”

She shook her head. Then she smiled and gave the light laugh that always made his chest ache. “I swear, I feel like I’m on a real honeymoon.”

If only. He wouldn’t say he hadn’t thought about what it would be like to marry her, because he had. Too many times. Even when she’d been planning to marry his brother, he’d thought—

She should be mine.

Then Slade had died, and he’d hated himself for the jealousy he’d felt.

“Are you…are you okay with being back here again?” Sydney asked him quietly.

He strolled toward the window, then looked out over the lush resort. Within the resort’s walls, everything was beautiful, perfect. But there were other parts of Peru that were savage. Dangerous. Once you left the city and journeyed into the jungle, civilization truly faded away. “I’ve been back here a few times since his death.”

“You have?” Surprise lifted her words.

He knew she’d stayed away. But he’d had to come back. “I tried to find him.” Again and again. “My grandfather would have wanted him brought back.” I wanted him back. He shrugged, trying to push away the past. “But I couldn’t find Slade.”

The floor creaked behind him, and then Sydney’s soft hands were on his shoulders, curling over him. Her touch was warm, soft, and he remembered all the ways that she had touched him during their night together. The ways he’d touched her.

The ways he would touch her again.

He had Sydney now, and he didn’t plan to let her go. Gunner turned toward her. His fingers skimmed over the curve of her cheek. He’d spent the past two years guarding her, determined to protect her from any danger that came their way.

Because Sydney seemed drawn to the danger.

She was the strongest woman he’d ever met, and her brain—hell, the things the lady could do with a computer amazed him. She’d been in the air force, he knew that. A lieutenant colonel. So in addition to her computer skills, there was no plane the woman couldn’t fly. She’d flown their team out of more than a few hot spots around the world.

Slade had been a pilot, too. Not in the air force, though. His brother had done a stint in the army, then gotten civilian flying lessons after his tour of duty.

On a charter run to South America, Slade’s plane had crashed in the wrong spot at the wrong time.

Against orders, Sydney and Gunner had gone in after him.

But they’d failed to bring him home.

“Gunner?” Her voice was soft.

He’d pulled her out of the jungle in Peru. He’d been so afraid she’d die on him. Her blood had stained his hands. She’d shuddered and jerked, cried out desperately.

For Slade.

But Gunner had been the one there for her. He’d always be there for her.

He offered her a smile, when he wasn’t normally the type to smile. He wasn’t like Cale or Logan. They could flirt and charm at will. He knew he had a dangerous edge. One that frightened more than it charmed.

But Sydney didn’t seem frightened. He shook his head and asked, “Why?”

She blinked; then her blond eyebrows rose in confusion.

“Why me?” he asked her. He should have probably just kept quiet, but, hell, he was no prize. His body was scarred…sliced open, literally. He’d been caught by the enemy more times than he wanted to count. And during one bloody, pain-filled capture, he’d been sure that death would take him.

His captors had tied him up and come at him with a knife. They’d wanted information. He hadn’t given it to them, so they’d sliced him over and over on his stomach, his chest. Cuts meant to break him.

But he’d gotten away.

They’d died.

There was nothing light or easy about him—nothing safe.

So why in the hell did Sydney want to be with him? She could have anyone.

“What do you mean?” Sydney still seemed confused.

She was so beautiful. Fragile, though that delicacy was a deception, he knew.

“Why was it me…and not someone else?” Not that guy in the bar who’d had his hands all over her. Sydney could have taken another lover over the past two years. She hadn’t. He knew because he always watched her too closely.

If she had tried to take another lover, what would he have done?

Better not think about it.

With her, his control could be a delicate thing. If she’d actually turned to another, Gunner wasn’t sure that his control would have lasted. That other guy would have found himself in a battle.

“I’m with you because you remind me that I’m alive.”

Her smile seemed bittersweet. “When I’m with you, I feel. I want. I need.”

He felt too much when he was with her. That was dangerous—for them both.

“I don’t like being back here,” she told him quietly, “but I’m glad that I’m with you.” She rose onto her toes. Her lips brushed over his. “I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time.”

He’d been rough with her before, so hungry and desperate. This time, before the mission started, he was determined to use care with her. She deserved care.

Gunner lifted her up. Held her in his arms and then took her to that big, giant bed. He laid her down, slowly stripped her, kissed every inch of flesh that was revealed to him, and he kept a stranglehold on his control.

This time, he’d show her the way things were supposed to be between them. This time, it would all be for her.

He kissed her breasts, loving the tight peaks of her nipples. Like candy. So good and sweet and perfect for his mouth. Her stomach dipped down, and he explored all of her, sliding his fingers gently over her skin, over her sensitive core.

She arched against him, whispering his name. He kept touching her, kissing and enjoying the silken feel of her skin.

“Gunner, I want you.”

Those were the words he needed. He’d never be a stand-in for a ghost, but Sydney wasn’t asking for a stand-in. She wanted him.

He pulled away from her just long enough to push down his jeans. Then he positioned his body between her thighs. One strong thrust— yes —and he drove into her, pleasure pulsing along his aroused length.

Her legs wrapped around him. She urged him to thrust deeper, harder, and he gave in to her. Moving quickly, wanting to give her as much pleasure as she could stand, wanting to give her everything.

When her body tensed beneath his, he knew her release was close. His spine tingled, his body tightened, but he forced himself to hold back.

He needed to feel her pleasure first.

Then she was gasping, calling his name, and her nails were scoring his shoulders. The pleasure washed across her face, brightening her eyes and flushing her cheeks.

Only then did he give in to his own need. He drove into her and let go.

The climax ripped through him, just as strong as the pleasure he’d gotten the night before.

He’d always known that Sydney was a dangerous woman, but he hadn’t realized that once he’d had a taste of the paradise she offered, there would be no turning back.

THE RAP SOUNDED on their door an hour later. Gunner glanced up to see Sydney coming out of the shower. Her hair was still wet, and her clothes clung tightly to her body.