“You think this shit is acceptable, Hunter? Because your old CO doesn’t have anything good to say about you, and your present CO told me you’d be on your best fucking behavior. But all you can think about is getting your dick wet. Un-fucking-acceptable. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“No excuse, sir.”

It was the only answer to give when your commanding officer was on the warpath, no matter how unfair it might be.

“You are jeopardizing the mission, Hunter. You were supposed to pick up additional intel, but instead you’ve become a liability. And you can bet your ass that one more mistake and you’ll be very damn sorry. Be ready for an oh-five-hundred pick up tomorrow. But for now, get the fuck out of my sight.”

I saluted again and left.

That fucking French bitch had a lot to answer for … or maybe it was just a few chickens coming home to roost. It was a fucked up situation—and one of my own making.

I called my driver and got him to take me to Caro’s hotel. I invited him to have a meal with me; it was the least I could do since I’d cost him his dinner as well as my own.

We talked shit about baseball, a sport we’d both played in high school, and ate some indeterminate meat in a spicy sauce—goat, probably.

I kept an eye open for Caro’s return, taking notice of the other members of the Press Corps who used the Mustafa hotel as their base.

I didn’t see Caro, but the British woman sailed into the bar, scaring a few of the locals. I was glad she was here, because it meant Caro had the room to herself. I gave it five minutes then headed up.

I knocked quietly on the door, and immediately heard hushed voices.

Shit? She had someone in there with her? I hadn’t seen the British woman leave the bar, although it had gotten pretty crowded.

“Yes?”

Yep, the Brit’s voice.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for Lee Venzi?”

There was another muted conversation, then the door swung open and I stepped inside quickly.

Caro stared at me, a small frown on her face.

“Sebastian, you’ve met my friend Liz Ashton.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding stiffly at the disgusted expression on the British woman’s face.

“Hunter,” she replied icily.

Caro rubbed her forehead.

“I’m sorry about this, Liz, but can you give us some time alone?”

The Brit snorted and shook her head, muttering something that sounded like, “bloody fool”.

I wasn’t sure if she meant me or Caro—both, probably.

“Two hours, Lee,” she said, glancing at her watch with zero subtlety. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”

She threw me an accusing look and left.

Caro was clearly mad at me, so my cunning plan was to kiss the hell out of her.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, my tongue in her mouth and my hands pressing into the flesh of her ass. She responded quickly, a surprised gasp huffing out as her hands wrapped around my neck, pressing her body against mine, chasing all thoughts but one from my overheated brain and desperate dick.

Then she pushed me away, her eyes bright with anger and lust, her cheeks flushed.

“What the hell are you doing, Sebastian?”

I shrugged and grinned at her. “I thought I’d kiss you before you yelled at me. Guess it didn’t work.”

“You think this is a joke?” she snapped, her voice rising with anger. “First David, now Liz. Why don’t you just skywrite it?”

I hated hearing that bastard’s name on her lips.

“What did the asshole say to you?”

She sighed. “He’s not going to tell anyone—he was really nice about it.”

He was ‘nice’ to her? What did that fucker want? I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him.

“Liz won’t say anything to anyone either—I’ll just have to listen to her chewing me out later. But I’d have much rather she didn’t know just now—she’s my work colleague. You’ve got to stop taking these risks, Sebastian. For my sake, if you won’t do it for yourself.”

I grimaced. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Shit, I should have.

“I’m sorry, Caro. I just go a little crazy around you.”

She didn’t look happy.

“Well, you have to get it under control. Now please, please tell me your assignment to Ryan Grant is temporary.”

“Fuck! I was wondering why they’d seated you next to him. Are you embedded with him? Shit!”

Her mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

“Exactly my thoughts. He can’t know, or it’ll really screw things up for both of us—well, mainly for me. Sebastian, you’re going to have to act like you did in Geneva, as if you still dislike me—or at the very least, ignore me. Can you do that?”

Probably not.

“Fuck, Caro,” I sighed. “Yes, I can do it. But I’ll hate every fucking minute of it.”

She gave me a small smile.

“At least if we’re in the same Camp, I’ll know what you’re doing and that you’re safe.”

“Same goes for you. Yeah, there is that. And we might get a chance to … hook up?”

Her eyes darkened, but she shook her head.

“No, too dangerous. You can’t risk it and I definitely can’t risk it. Grant isn’t an idiot.”

“No, he seems on the ball.”

“On the plus side, Grant already thinks you dislike me.”

That was news to me. “Because…?”

“Liz: she mentioned that we’d met in Geneva, and at that stage, she still thought you were an ass. Well, that hasn’t changed, but just a different sort of ass now.”

I felt a reluctant smile pulling my lips upward.

“An ass?”

“Big time.”

I leaned against the door, smiling down at her.

“What happened with your little friend, Natalie?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I frowned with instant irritation.

“She’s no fucking friend. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then Grant kicked me out because of her.”

“What did he say to you?”

Yeah, didn’t want to repeat that conversation.

Caro shook her head. “Oh, well, never mind—I can guess. She didn’t look pleased either—I think she was planning to have you for dessert. Was it you who told her to cover up?”

“Yeah, not that it made any difference.”

“She must have listened to someone. At least you tried. And you are very trying, Warrant Officer Hunter. Part of me wants to slap some sense into you…”

“And the other part?” I asked, licking my lips automatically, like some fucking starving dog.

“Well,” she said, running a finger down the front of my uniform, “I was wondering what we could do for the next…” she checked her wristwatch, “…115 minutes?”

One hundred and fifteen minutes: was that all we had? It was never enough. It was just never fucking enough. I closed my eyes, the familiar fear pumping through me. I was losing her again.

“What’s the matter, tesoro?” she asked quietly.

“I really fucking hate this, Caro. We’re always running in different directions, we’re always running out of time. I just want to wake up with you in my arms every day.”

She sighed, her expression sad.

“I know, Sebastian, and I feel the same. But it won’t be like that forever—we will be together. We just have to be patient.” Her warm fingers stroked my cheek, “And for now, we have 113 minutes left.”

My eyes snapped open.

“Fuck!”

Suddenly we were tearing at each other, touching and tasting and fighting to get free of our clothes. So many damn buttons. Fucking uniform!

“Damn it, Caro,” I groaned, as she pressed her bare skin against me.

I backed her toward the bed, my dick pushing against her. She fell onto the hard mattress and then burst into laughter.

“What?”

“The whole pants around the ankles thing—it’s not a great look.”

I grinned as I toed off my shoes. Yeah, probably not my smoothest moves.

“Guess I’d better lose the socks, too.”

“Definitely.”

As Caro stared up at me, I pulled off the rest of my uniform, tossing it to the other side of the room and stood beside the bed, staring down at her, my dick as rigid as a divining rod.