or illustrates something he's been trying to teach me." She gave Rick a wary look. "You
sound like you want me to spy on the Commandos!"
"I don't," he assured her, then, at the sceptical look she gave him, rolled his eyes.
"Aw, hell, Tamia, I don't, really! Why would I? This is my outfit, my only real family. I
just want you to be aware of all of the consequences of what you chose. I'm trying to be
honest with you, here, and I'm going to tell you one thing that's a guarantee. I'll try my
damnedest to help you out as much as I can, do what I can to keep them from running
you through all that shit, but if Military and Civil Justice want you that bad, there's not a
damned thing I can do to stop them."
"I know that," she said quietly, her eyes lowering. "And, thanks, Rick. There
haven't been many people who've been willing to help me out in my life. It's good to
know I have a friend."
Rick's eyes dropped to the Glock-44 in his hands, and watched his fingers clench
hard on it, feeling the plastic casing bite into his palms. Friend. God, he wanted to be so
much more. She had no idea how hard it was on him, to look at her and remind himself
that he couldn't touch her. He'd thought he could be her friend, when she'd first arrived,
and that, once he got to know her better, his desire for her would ebb away. Problem
was, it hadn't worked that way. The more he'd gotten to know her, the more he'd wanted
her; even when he'd thought she was a spy.
126
He dreaded every message that came through from the Justice Department, now,
expecting the next one to be a warrant for Tamia's arrest. He could fight a blatant
kidnapping, or a little blackmail, but a warrant was unquestionable, particularly now that
he knew she'd been involved in the shooting. God, she had no idea how sorry he was that
she hadn't been a spy. A spy he could've dismissed from the unit, if not his mind.
Betrayal would have killed everything he felt for her, given enough time. He could have
viewed her every word as a neatly fabricated lie, then.
But Tamia wasn't any of those things. She was as loyal and honest as her life
allowed, with an integrity he'd only ever seen once before. Oh, she was as human as the
next, but she knew what her goals were, and she wasn't about to let anything stand in her
way. Not even her past, or the chance of a future in hell. That was a singular courage,
and it drew him unerringly. The better he came to know her, the more desperate he was
to be more than just her friend.
Tamia studied the expression on Rick's down-turned face, and the way his hands
were clenched on the Glock. It tore her heart, wondering what he struggled so hard
against. She longed to reach out to him, to draw out whatever it was that troubled him,
but knew she couldn't. Over the past couple of weeks since she'd arrived, they'd travelled
a rocky path of mixed emotions and needs, and she knew she had a friend in Rick. But
friendship only went so far, and there were things she wanted to tell him that went
beyond the bounds of friendship. She wanted to tell him how often she thought of him,
and those few, heart-stopping moments she'd spent in his arms. But she couldn't. He was
her commanding officer, even before her friend, and for the sake of both her career and
their friendship, she wouldn't -- couldn't -- say those words.
127
Summoning her control, Tamia cleared her throat, breaking the silence and
causing his head to raise expectantly. Was that a glimmer of hope she saw in his eyes?
She dismissed it as silly fancy. Forcing a smile to her lips, she held out her hand.
"If you don't mind, I'll get back to my practice."
He looked startled for a moment, and then, as if suddenly realising he was still
holding her gun, blinked and grinned sheepishly as he handed it back to her. She took it
with a grin of her own, and turned back toward the shooting range silhouettes.
Rick watched as she dispatched target after target efficiently. It gave him a new
appreciation for her skill, but worried him at the same time. How many years of practice
and battle had that perfection cost her? How many times had she taken a bullet for not
being fast enough, or accurate enough? Most of the career military he had ever known
were range trained, their skills honed on paper or holographic enemies, which, at most,
delivered a mild electrical charge if they hit. But Tamia's skills had been learned on the
streets, where the enemies and the threat of death were real. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]