Page 34 of Covert Vengeance

To put him and the temptation he posed from her mind, she focused on what she would do to Stanislav instead. A man like him had an ego to match his massive reputation. She remembered Zoya constantly bragging about him. About how hot and rich and deadly he was. How powerful, how no one could touch him.

Well, Amber would more than touch him. She would destroy him. Take all his money, kill him, then funnel his funds into the pool she intended to use to set up the Valkyrie WITSEC program. And she’d make him watch her do it before he died.

Oh, yeah, she thought with a savage smile as she made her way down the second floor hallway. That plan soundedawesome.

Soft purple shadows filled the Blue Room when she entered after knocking. Kiyomi was still sound asleep on her stomach, appearing not to have so much as shifted during Amber’s absence.

Marcus had left a tray of food on the settee at the end of the queen-size, four-poster bed. Amber didn’t know him well, but he seemed like a decent man, and clearly he had a heart if he was concerned for her old friend.

Gently waking Kiyomi, she forced some fruit, cheese and crackers into her, along with a glass of water. “Think it’s going to stay down?”

“Pretty sure,” Kiyomi answered, shifting slightly.

“I’ll hold your hair back if you need me to.”

A rusty chuckle came from Kiyomi at the shared memory, then she grimaced and put a hand to her ribs. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.” Kiyomi had come down with food poisoning right in the middle of an intense physical conditioning phase during their training. They’d been roommates at the time, before they had been shifted to different training streams within the program. “You were too sick to notice, but when the instructor came to get us he opened the door, took one look at me holding the bucket in one hand and your hair in the other, and left. That was the only time I ever got out of PT and I loved you for it.”

“Well, I’m glad my suffering paid off.”

“Me too.”

They shared a grin, reminding Amber of the good times they’d had as roommates. Staying up late talking about anything and everything, enjoying each other’s company and focusing on the here and now to stave off the anxiety that came with the constant uncertainty. They’d known it was only a matter of time before they were split up and sent to different streams.

Amber had missed her dearly when the day had come. She’d arrived back at their dorm to find Kiyomi’s bunk empty, the mattress stripped of the sheets and pillow, all her things gone. They hadn’t seen or heard from each other since, until that basement dungeon in Syria. “I put the garbage pail next to your bed, just in case. Now get some more sleep.”

Just as she was covering Kiyomi up again, footsteps sounded in the hallway. The door to the next room opened and shut.

Cordova. She’d seen him put his stuff in there earlier.

Amber’s gaze shifted to the tube of ointment sitting on the nightstand. They’d put some on Kiyomi’s back and ribs earlier. It was supposed to be good for healing bruises and contusions, and Cordova was still sore from the motorcycle wreck she’d caused.

Avoiding temptation was the smartest course of action, but she was tired of constantly being deprived of things, and this time she couldn’t help herself.

Picking up the tube, she quietly exited the room and knocked on Cordova’s door.

He startled her by pulling it open rather than answer verbally. Whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat because the man was standing there two feet away, backlit by a lamp in the corner, all his shirtless, muscular glory on display.

Power. Sheer masculine power and grace, his ripped chest and abdomen a shade or two lighter than his face and forearms, a thin trail of dark hair arrowing down from below his indented navel to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Damn.And when she managed to drag her gawking eyes up to his face, the stark desire in his gaze stole her breath.

A wave of heat roared through her, a sexual awareness so intense it made her dizzy. Her nipples beaded tight, a hungry ache igniting between her thighs. Yeah, she was sick of denying her needs.

“Need something?” he asked in an almost lazy tone, arching a dark eyebrow as he held her stare. Completely aware of what he was doing to her, and clearly enjoying it.

“I brought you this,” she blurted, holding out the ointment. “Marcus gave it to me for Kiyomi, but I thought you could use some. If you’re still sore.”Of course he’s still sore, dumbass.

He held her gaze for a long, breathless moment, then lowered his sculpted arm from the doorjamb and stepped back, granting her entry. She walked in, a gasp breaking from her when he turned to cross the room and she got her first look at the wide expanse of his back—and the damage she’d done.

A mass of painful-looking bruises marked him from the base of his neck to the small of his back. Large, angry blotches of dark blue and purple, a few turning greenish-yellow around the edges. She winced in sympathy. They must hurt like hell, especially given how he’d carried Kiyomi out of that basement earlier.

“I’m…sorry,” she said lamely. Sorry didn’t fix it or make the pain go away, but it was all she had.

He stopped partway to the bed where he’d tossed his shirt, and looked over his shoulder at her. “You gonna put it on me, or what?”

She blinked at him. “Me?”

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