whispered, staring back at him as the heaviness weighing at her soul threatened to weaken her knees and take her to the floor. “I’m tired of losing everything I’ve worked for because some entity out there has decided I have no right to live, no right to freedom.” No right to love or to have the rest of her life to regret what couldn’t be.
“So you’re just going to sit here and wait for the bastard to strike?” He crossed his arms over his chest, which was never a good sign.
Jordan was possibly the most arrogant, most domineering man she had ever met in her life, and she had met a lot of men. When he took that stance, he was impossible to sway. Even his men knew better than to confront him at such times.
Fortunately, Tehya wasn’t one of his men, and confronting Jordan was something she had perfected over the years.
“I killed my father and my brother.” She shrugged, knowing that waiting for the strike would be easier than trying to run from it, easier than never having friends, never having a place to belong. “And I haven’t had a single nightmare over it. But if I have to start running again, Jordan, then my life will become a living hell again. I simply can’t survive that way anymore. And they’ll find out, I won’t be as easy to capture as my mother was.”
Her mother. Delicate, fragile Francine Taite. She had been tortured to death in Nicaragua when Sorrel’s men had finally chased her down, ten years after she had escaped with Tehya. Francine had refused to reveal where Tehya was hidden, had given him no information about where he could find the daughter he had chosen to breed.
Her father’s family was obsessed with bloodlines. It ruled everything, and nothing was allowed to taint its purity. Huge sums of money, land, and power were made in exchange and sometimes, there was even force. Her father’s family occupied a very dark corner of their superbly rich, exclusive world and for the right price, a blue-blooded daughter could be forced into marriage. Her mother was one of those women. Her father had repeatedly raped her until she had become pregnant with Tehya. It was a fate Francine did not want for her daughter.
Sorrel had still managed to find her, though. Through those hellish years he had murdered everyone who had tried to help her, cut her off from all possibility of peace, and in his demented mind he believed she would actually willingly return to him.
“Goddamn, Tehya.” Frustration filled Jordan’s voice now.
“You trained me well, Jordan,” she reminded him. “At the least, I’ll have a chance. They won’t be expecting someone able to fight back.”
She had learned a lot during her years with the Ops. Enough to believe she had a chance.
“I didn’t teach you to be fucking stupid,” he snarled, those blue eyes darkening to deep sapphire as he glared back at her. “Tehya, you can’t face these men alone. Hell, you’ve seen the merciless cruelties they inflict on their victims. Do you think I’m going to let you become one?”
Damn, she’d never seen him this pissed off at anyone, especially her so quickly. He was, but for that one night, always calm, cool, and fairly unemotional when dealing with her. No matter what she had done to prick at that wall of self-control he possessed.
“Maybe I just learned that one on my own.” Giving him a tight smile she turned on her heel and headed back to her bedroom. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to shower and go to bed. Just because it’s a weekend doesn’t mean I don’t have things to do tomorrow.”
Jordan watched as she stalked through the bedroom door, her head held high, those damned curls making his fingers tighten with the need to sink into them and hold her in place for a kiss that would rock them both to the soles of their feet. A kiss that would ensure she was too weak to fight him.
Son of a bitch.
His fingers plowed through his hair before he jerked his satellite phone from the holster at his hip and keyed in Killian’s number.
“I assume you found her,” Killian answered on the first ring. “The protocol on her phone has been disengaged. How did you know it was there?”
Jordan felt his jaw tighten to the point that he wondered if it would crack. Had Killian been standing before him, he might well have killed