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Alina stepped into the kitchen and kicked the door closed behind her. Dropping her purse and keys on the table, she looked down the short hall to the living room. Damon was stretched out on the couch facing her, bare feet crossed at the ankles, a laptop open on his lap. His hair fell over his forehead carelessly and he was dressed in old sweats and a t-shirt. Alina thought he had never looked so good as he did in that instant. His blue eyes met hers over the top of the screen and he sat up, swinging his legs off the couch. He stood up and came towards her, frowning slightly as he took in her drawn face and the dark shadows under her eyes.
“You look exhausted,” he said, flipping on the over-head light in the kitchen.
Alina sighed as she pulled her gun out of the holster at her back, setting it on the table next to her purse.
“I am,” she told him. “I'm starving, tired, and my head is killing me.”
“Then it's a good thing I picked up pizza on my way back,” Damon murmured, turning toward the oven. Alina watched as he opened the oven and pulled the box out. He set it on top of the stove and turned off the oven. “I kept it warm for you,” he said, turning around to face her. “I guessed dinner had been ruined.”
He smiled, his deep blue eyes glinting warmly, and Alina was filled with a sudden wave of warmth. She stared at him, unable to think of a single word to say. His smile grew into a grin and Damon walked over to her, looking down into her face. He touched her lips gently with his fingers.
“You can thank me later,” he murmured. “Eat. I'm going to have a shower.”
Alina watched him go down the hall and disappear up the stairs, still standing rooted to the spot in the kitchen, her lips tingling where he had touched them. The smell of pepperoni suddenly snapped her out of her stupor and she shook her head, going over to flip open the box. She lifted out a piece of pizza, biting into it hungrily as she turned to get a plate from the cabinet next to the sink. Carrying it over to the table, she sat down facing the back door with her back against the wall.
She was exhausted. She hadn't eaten since the morning and between the lack of food and constant rush of adrenaline today, Alina knew that her body was using every last resource it had just to function. She had sat at the table in Michael's kitchen for three hours, sipping wine and watching as federal agents from both the Secret Service and the FBI swarmed around her. True to his word, Michael had ensured that she hadn't been bothered and, to her relief, they seemed to take absolutely no notice of her whatsoever. They approached her only once, and Michael leaned against the wall next to her while they questioned her. He had appeared bored, but the once or twice that she glanced up at him, she got the distinct impression that those hazel-green eyes weren't missing a thing.
Michael was dangerous and, Viper admitted to herself now as she took another bite of pizza, he was paying entirely too much attention to her.
Alina finished her pizza and went back to get another slice. The pipes in the wall banged briefly and the sound of water rushing up to the bathroom upstairs told her that Damon had turned on the shower. She smiled slightly to herself. It was kind of comforting to have someone else in the house for a change. She headed back to the table slowly.
There had been a few times throughout the night when she caught Michael studying her thoughtfully. What he was thinking was anyone's guess, and Alina left uncomfortably aware that Michael saw a lot more than he appeared to see. She frowned, sinking into her seat. The woman in her knew that Michael was attracted to her, and had known it ever since she got out of the taxi and caught him drooling over her legs. That same woman inside her knew that that very attraction, coupled with the investigator in Michael, was garnering much closer scrutiny than she had expected.
And that was an unforeseen problem.
The water upstairs shut off and Alina realized with a start that she had been staring into space for several minutes. She sighed and finished her pizza, putting Michael and all the attached difficulties out of her mind. Getting up, she went to put her plate into the dishwasher. Hawk would have already run the plates on the SUV and she would be able to find out who had wanted the ex-Special Forces man dead rather than have him talk.
Her few moments of rest were over.
Alina was just closing the dishwasher when Damon came into the kitchen. She turned and her breath caught in her throat. He had put the navy sweats back on, but nothing else. His chest and feet were bare and his hair was still wet from the shower. His flat stomach was as hard as a rock, and his broad shoulders tapered into solidly muscled arms that were still glistening with droplets of water. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the man.
“Feel better?” he asked, glancing at her as he opened the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.
“Much,” Alina answered.
He held up a bottle of water questioningly and handed it to her when she nodded.
“What's with the Phillies hat?” he asked, closing the fridge and opening his water.
“It was all I had to cover the blood,” she said, taking a long drink of water.
Damon's eyes narrowed and he sipped his water.
“Is it still bleeding?” he asked. Alina shrugged.
“I have no idea. I haven't touched it since I put the cap on.”
Damon grimaced and stepped forward. He set his water down on the counter behind her and his broad shoulders stopped her from trying to edge around him. Alina was assaulted with the scent of shower gel, shampoo, and Hawk. Her pulse jumped as her heartbeat quickened.
“This isn't going to feel good,” Hawk murmured a split second before he swiftly yanked the cap off her head.
Alina gasped as burning pain shot through her left temple and her left eye filled with tears in reaction. Her ponytail came out with the removal of the hat and red waves tumbled down around her shoulders. Damon tossed the hat on the counter and gently tilted her head sideways so he could look at the gash. Dried blood had caked around the edges and fresh blood was oozing out from the wound where it had been ripped open again.
“What did this?” he asked.
“I think it must have been glass, but I'm not sure.”
Alina's voice was slightly breathless. The pain receded as quickly as it had come and her eye stopped watering. Hawk was standing so close that his thighs were brushing hers and she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. Alina's heart started pounding in reaction. She didn't trust herself to look at him, so she kept her head turned and tried to concentrate on the throbbing wound on her head.
“You need to get this cleaned out before it gets infected,” Damon told her, seemingly oblivious to her silent struggles. He gently probed around the edges of the gash. “I think you can get by without stitching it.” He finally looked down at her averted face. “I seem to remember that you're opposed to stitches.”
Alina swallowed and nodded, finally returning her gaze to his face. Their eyes met and silence fell heavily between them as they stared at each other.
“I like you better without the green contacts,” Damon finally murmured huskily.
“Michael knows I have brown eyes,” Alina whispered. “I have to take them out when I see him.”
Damon nodded slowly, his eyes locked with hers. Alina's mind drained of thought as she stared into his deep blue eyes and her mouth went dry. Her heart was thudding in her chest again painfully and she took a deep breath, trying to calm it. She inhaled the warm and comforting smell of woodsy musk that was uniquely his, and her heart simply thudded faster. Damon groaned softly and lowered his lips to hers.
She met him halfway.
Alina slid her hands over his shoulders and felt the smooth skin prickle beneath her fingers. Passion rolled over her, hot and urgent, and she draped her arms around his neck as her eyes slid shut. Damon dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her hard against him as desire took over. Alina heard a moan and dimly realized that it had been her to make the deep, almost haunting, sound of yearning. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and couldn't stop touching him. Her feet suddenly left the ground and Alina felt weightless, caught in space for a split second, before she came to rest on the counter. Damon had lifted her up without breaking the kiss and her legs went around his hips on their own. This time the groan didn't come from her, and Damon lifted his head. His eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with desire and Alina felt a shiver streak down her spine as she met his gaze. He was sliding her shirt up and over her head and then his lips were back on hers, hot and demanding.
As soon as her skin touched his, Damon knew it was going to take a miracle to make this stop. The passion between them was simply too strong for him to resist. For the first time since they had been cautiously testing this attraction between them, Damon knew without a doubt that Alina was holding absolutely nothing back. He groaned again. God, she felt so good.
Alina heard a cell phone go off over the blood pounding in her ears. She thought it might be the burn phone that she used for communicating with Michael, but she couldn't seem to make herself care. With every touch and every breath, Damon had swept past every barrier she had tried to erect against this. She couldn't seem to get close enough to him. She was surrounded by his strength and his warmth, but it still wasn't enough. She wanted to feel every inch of him. She wanted to love him.
And that sudden thought scared the hell right out of her.
“Stop.”
Alina gasped, ripping her mouth away from his, breathing heavily. The passion coursing through her made her whole body feel like jelly and she rested her chin on his broad shoulder, trying to catch her breath and get herself under control. Damon's heart was pounding against hers, his ragged breathing telling her that he was just as affected by this onslaught of desire. His jaw brushed her cheek as he held her close, taking long, deep breaths.
They both stayed very still, afraid to move until they regained some kind of tenuous control. A laptop alarm beeped from the living room and still they didn't move, wrapped in each other’s arms. Damon realized that they were both taking long, deep breaths, trying to calm themselves and he chuckled. The low, rich sound reverberated into Alina's ear and her lips curved in response reluctantly.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Hawk murmured finally, his heartbeat slowing at last to a manageable rhythm.
Alina was absently stroking a hand across the back of his shoulders. She was silent, but made no move to pull away. Her pulse was slowly returning to normal and her mind was now racing. What just happened? How had they both lost total control? And how were they going to avoid it from happening again? Did she want to avoid it from happening again?
“This is going to get complicated, isn't it?” Alina finally spoke, her voice low.
Damon pulled away slightly and looked at her. Her lips were swollen and she looked completely dazed.
“This got complicated five years ago when we both ended up in the same training facility for the Organization,” Damon replied quietly. Alina opened her mouth to speak, but Damon swiftly and gently pressed a finger against her lips, his cobalt eyes inches from hers. “And don't pretend that it didn't,” he whispered huskily. “You and I have been dancing around this ever since we met and you know it.”
Alina stared at him. He was right. This attraction between them had always been there, from the day they met in boot camp ten years ago. They had just pushed it to the side. His finger moved off her lips and Damon leaned his forehead against hers gently, careful to avoid the wound near her temple. Alina inhaled slowly, surrounded by the warmth of his skin. His eyes were sparkling into hers, laughter lurking deep in their depths. Laughter and something else.
“In my defense, we would have killed each other then,” Alina whispered a little breathlessly, her lips curving slightly. “And that training course was too damn hard to concentrate on anything else.”
“I'll give you that,” Damon agreed with a slight laugh.
She moved her head back, breaking contact with his forehead and giving herself some breathing room. Damon let her move back a few inches before his arms, still wrapped around her, stopped her retreat. Alina stared into his eyes, trying to sort out the scrambling thoughts and emotions tumbling through her while Damon watched her, his eyes hooded and the hint of a smile on his lips.
A jumble of memories cascaded through her mind: racing him on the obstacle course in basic training; the bonfire after graduation; seeing him in the training facility and feeling her heart leap; sitting across from him and laughing at a café in Paris; stepping off a commercial flight in Singapore to find him leaning against a railing, smiling at her. Random memories from the past flitted through her mind as she stared into his eyes.
“There just wasn't time,” Alina finally whispered.
Damon nodded slowly. He slid his hand slowly up her arm, watching the goosebumps follow his fingers.
“There is now,” he said quietly.
His eyes went back to her face in time to see something flash in her eyes before it was effectively hidden.
“Maybe,” Alina whispered.
Damon's hand slid over her bare shoulder and across her collarbone before coming to rest gently along the side of her jaw. Alina's mouth went dry again and her heart started thudding.
Damon stared deep into her eyes, seemingly trying to peer straight through to her soul. It was a long moment before he sighed softly. He lifted his other hand to her face, holding her head still, and kissed her softly. It was a long, gentle kiss and when he finally lifted his head, Alina felt like he had stolen some of her soul. He smiled slowly and the twinkle that she knew so well came back into his eyes.
“Well, if we're going to hold off on this for a bit, you'll have to unwrap your legs from around me before I make an executive decision out of pure necessity,” he murmured, dropping his hands back to her waist and rubbing his nose teasingly against hers.
Alina felt a blush steal into her cheeks. Damon saw it and grinned, laughter leaping into his eyes. Her eyes narrowed at the grin and Alina released her legs suddenly. As they dropped, it forced her pelvis sharply against his and Damon groaned in reaction, biting his lip. Alina smiled at him and slowly slid her hands off his shoulders, bringing them to rest on his chest.
Hawk lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes dark.
“That was just mean,” he growled.
Alina's chuckle was cut short when he pulled her against his chest sharply and dropped his mouth to hers. It was several long moments before either of them could speak again, and when he finally lifted his head, her legs were wrapped around him again. He grinned, his eyes dancing.
“We seem to be right back where we started,” he murmured.
Alina burst out laughing and disentangled her legs more slowly this time, pushing against his hard chest. Damon winked and stepped back, lifting her back onto the floor. He kept his hands on her waist for a moment and looked down at her. His eyes were suddenly serious.
“We can't avoid this forever,” he told her and Alina looked up slowly.
“I know.”
Damon nodded and dropped a light kiss on her forehead before letting go of her waist.
“You better go get that gash cleaned out. We have work to do,” he said, turning away. “That was your boy's laptop booting up that made that beep earlier. Looks like he's back to work.”
After a long shower, Alina descended the stairs again feeling more like herself. Hawk was settled in the center of the couch, with two laptops opened on the coffee table before him. He had put on a shirt and Alina was both grateful and a little disappointed. He glanced up as she came off the stairs.
“We might have a problem,” he told her, sitting back.
Alina stopped behind the couch.
“Oh?”
Damon tilted his head back to look up at her.
“Your boy is poking around in things above his pay grade,” he told her, then he frowned. “You didn't clean that gash very well.”
“The peroxide is down here,” Alina retorted. “What's he doing?”
“Go get the peroxide,” Damon sat forward again, “then we'll talk.”
Alina made a face at the back of his head and continued into the kitchen. She retrieved her first aid box from the pantry and returned with the box and her bottle of water. Damon watched her sink onto the rug, cross legged. She had changed into loose black yoga pants and a tank top. Her feet were bare, her hair was wet, and Damon thought she looked beautiful.
“He texted me earlier,” she said, opening the sturdy tool box that was her first aid kit and pulling out a bag of cotton balls and a roll of medical tape. After a second of rummaging, she pulled out a gauze bandage.
“And?” Damon asked, getting up to grab the cotton balls and peroxide. “Come here. I'll do it,” he said briskly, sitting back on the couch.
Alina got up and sat on the couch sideways, one leg pulled up, facing him.
“I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself,” she informed him and Hawk winked.
“I know you are,” he agreed, holding a cotton ball over the top of the peroxide and flipping the bottle over to drench it. “You can't see what's in there. If there's glass, we need to get it out.” He leaned forward and started dabbing gently on the wound. The shower had washed all the dried blood away, but it was oozing slightly and looked angry. “This isn't looking good,” he said with a frown.
“It's fine,” Alina said impatiently, watching him. “Once it's cleaned out and covered, it'll be fine.”
Damon sat back and dropped the cotton ball onto the coffee table, pulling out a fresh one.
“So what did your boy have to say?” he prompted, wetting the new cotton ball with the peroxide.
“He's not my boy,” she retorted. “He wanted to make sure I made it home without an issue.”
Damon raised an eyebrow.
“Oh really?” he drawled. Alina nodded.
“He wanted to bring me himself, but I told him he was being ridiculous,” she said as Damon leaned forward and went to work on her forehead again.
“Tell me what exactly happened,” he said.
“Four men were paid cash up front to attack Michael and 'rough him up,'” she told him. “They were supposed to get his laptop as well. At least, that's what the one I questioned said.”
“I saw that. Nicely done, by the way,” Hawk murmured, concentrating on his task.
“Thank you.” Alina winced slightly when he hit a raw spot. “Why did you flip all the power breakers?” she asked suddenly.
“To give you guys an advantage,” he answered. Alina smiled.
“It worked,” she said.
He nodded and prodded the raw spot again. She sucked in some air and winced again.
“Sorry,” he said, getting up.
Alina raised her eyebrow and watched as he dropped the cotton ball onto the table and went over to the first aid box. He returned with tweezers.
“There's glass,” he said shortly. Alina scowled.
“And you think you're going to dig it out?” she demanded, trying to grab the tweezers. “Thanks, but no. I'll go upstairs and do it myself.”
Damon held the tweezers away from her, laughing.
“I can get it,” he told her, leaning back as she leaned forward to grab them.
“So can I,” she retorted, lunging for his hand.
The resulting struggle ended with him on his back and her sprawled on top of him, without the tweezers.
“Sweetheart, if you want to be on top, just say so,” Damon murmured, his eyes dancing with laughter.
Alina grunted and pushed herself up. She stuck her tongue out at him with a glare and Damon burst into laughter, the deep, rich sound filling the room. Alina grinned reluctantly and scrambled off him, settling back down in her corner. Damon sat up, the tweezers reappearing in his hand.
“It won't hurt, I promise,” he said with a grin, his eyes dancing. “No need to be scared.”
Alina's eyes narrowed into slits and Damon bit back another laugh. She pressed her lips together silently and allowed him to lean forward with the tweezers.
“You know, you really need to let go of these control issues you have,” he said conversationally, knowing he was playing a dangerous game but enjoying himself too much to stop. Keeping a wary eye on her right fist, he turned her head slightly so that he could see better. “You don't always have to do it yourself.”
“It's what I'm used to,” Alina said after a short silence. She grit her teeth as he probed into the heart of the wound with the tweezers.
“Hold out your hand,” Damon murmured. Alina held her hand out, palm up. “It's what we're both used to. Maybe we need to learn to let go of some of that and give ourselves a break once in a while.”
Alina didn't answer. It was taking every ounce of will power that she had just to sit still and let him dig into an open wound on her head. After what seemed like an eternity, he sat back and dropped a long piece of glass into her palm. It was an inch and a half long, and she stared at it in disbelief.
“THAT was in my head?!” she demanded.
Damon was drenching another cotton ball with peroxide.
“It's just a sliver,” he answered, leaning forward again.
Alina started to feel a little light-headed and, glancing at her face, Damon saw it draining of color.
“So, what happened with the guy in the chair on the porch?” he asked, cleaning the wound gently and trying to force her mind onto something else.
“Uh...” Alina swallowed and forced herself to concentrate on what Damon was asking. “Michael detained him because he had a Special Forces tattoo.”
“Special Forces tattoo?” Damon paused and looked at her. Alina was watching him steadily.
“The same one you had,” she told him quietly.
Damon stared at her for a beat.
“You're sure?” he asked. Alina nodded.
“It's pretty distinctive,” she murmured.
Damon finished cleaning out the wound and sat back.
“I'm surprised you remembered it,” he said, slowly. “I recognized him. I'm already running checks on him to find out what he was doing there.”
“Michael took him onto the porch because he was bleeding on the carpet. He went back to the kitchen to get some ice for his nose.” Alina gathered the bloody cotton balls together and stood up. “That's when the SUV rolled down the street and shot him. It was a good shot. Double-tap to the chest from a moving vehicle,” she added thoughtfully. “Not your average drive-by.”
She turned and went into the kitchen to throw the cotton balls away. When she returned, some of the color had returned to her face.
“Did you talk to my brother in arms?” Damon asked her as she sat back on the couch. He ripped open the gauze bandage and placed it on the gash. Alina held it in place while he tore off the tape.
“Yes. He didn't say anything, but I got what I needed,” she answered. “He was hired by someone he believed was in the government and he had no idea why he was attacking an ex-Marine. He also had no idea that there was anything fishy going on until he was handcuffed to a chair. I think then he realized he'd been used. I'm pretty sure he was feeling more than a little guilty.” Damon taped the bandage down and sat back. His lips were pressed together grimly. “What was his name?”
“Jason Rogers.” Hawk turned away and went to one of the laptops. “Your boy's running a search on the tattoo. It won't take him long to uncover it. My whole team got it after one of the raids in Afghanistan.”
Alina looked at Damon's arm where the tattoo used to be. It had been the first thing to go when they were in training for The Organization. All identifying marks were lasered off. Standard operating procedure.
“What are you worried about?” Alina turned on the couch and sat back, sipping her water. “You're hedging around something. Is it the tattoo?”
“The tattoo doesn't worry me. All he'll get from that is who was in that particular team with Jason, and my name won't appear anywhere he can find it.” Hawk glanced at her and turned the laptop to face her. “But if he gets access to this, it'll tell him a hell of a lot more.”
Alina looked at Hawk and then sat forward to look at the screen. On it was a screenshot of the remote view to Michael's computer. It showed a formal request for access to Alina's classified military file.
“If he gets access to that, we're done,” Hawk told her grimly.