Free Retribution by Lea Griffith Page B

held in his own arms.
    Surrey had some kind of feelings for Sasha’s sister. As to the depth and breadth of those feelings, Dray had no idea. They’d tied one on after a particularly nasty mission in Pakistan last year, and Surrey had divulged information he probably wished he hadn’t. Dray hadn’t known who the woman was who’d set Surrey off; he’d just assumed it was someone back home. He’d no idea it was twenty-two-year-old Halloran Bennoit, the soon-to-be-lawyer from Gainesville, Georgia. The funny thing? Hal seemed just as intent to dismiss Surrey as Surrey was to dismiss her.
    Neither was doing a very good job.
    Shit, he was one to talk. Dray let his head fall back on his shoulders but tried to hold her tightly enough that the bumps they kept hitting wouldn’t wake her. They had at least another hour before they met up with transport. He decided he needed to keep an eye on the scenery before he made the mistake of waking Sasha up for a replay.
    *
    Sasha had been doing her best to feign sleep. Dray was potent, taking her breath and stealing her mind with a single touch of his lips against hers. His hair was still that beautiful deep auburn color, a little shaggy with a tendency to curl at the ends, and his face was the stuff of dreams—strong planes and high cheekbones with a straight nose. He had dark-green eyes under thick, straight brows the same color as his hair. His lashes were long and thick and again, that same deep auburn color.
    It was his voice, though, that ripped her apart. She remembered his voice. Whispers in her ear jerked her from sleep most evenings in a fever of arousal so hot she knew her sheets had scorch marks. And those lips drew her like a moth to a flame, brought her soul up from hiding, and she wanted them on hers. Again. Right now. She licked her bottom one, wishing it was his.
    He’d appeared so intent just minutes ago, and her breath had notched in her chest. When had she made the decision that she wanted him for her own? When had she decided she wasn’t going to give him up again? She didn’t know the exact moment, but perhaps somewhere in her dreams laid the answer. It had been torture the first time she’d been forced to leave him, and she’d not had a moment’s rest or peace since.
    Forget Kashar el-Din. Dray Bonner was the one who prevented her from moving on with life. Struggling through the pain and night terrors el-Din caused her was nothing compared to the emptiness in her life because Dray wasn’t in it. He was hers, or was going to be anyway, and she defied anybody to get in her way. Her decision made, Sasha took a deep breath, gave in once more to the pounding in her head, and fell back into a fitful sleep.
    * * * *
    The heavy thump of helicopter blades in the darkening sky brought Sasha awake. At some point her hair covering had been replaced, but now it whipped off as she opened her eyes, the material tickling her cheek as it took flight because of the wind created by the chopper. She glanced to her right and discovered Hal, head in her hands, hunkered over ignoring the noise around them. Sasha located the hovering aircraft and could just make out two dark shapes against the setting sun calling the craft in to land.
    Hal glanced up as Sasha touched her arm. Her sister’s right eye was swollen shut, and her upper lip had a small cut on it. Hal smiled slightly at something behind Sasha. Sasha glanced around. Surrey was walking toward the Jeep with Dray close behind. If Surrey’s face was closed off, Dray’s was carved from granite. He moved to her and started to pick her up when a chunk of upholstery exploded out of the headrest of the seat behind her.
    Then all hell broke loose.
    Dray pushed her down, mouthing something that looked like, “Stay.” His eyes were hard and promised hell if she didn’t obey him.
    Sasha hunched down farther in the seat, pulling Hal with her while Dray and Surrey pulled out nasty looking automatic weapons and began firing in the