Текст книги "Mine"
Автор книги: Dimon HelenKay
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PRAISE FOR
ONLY
“Dimon turns genre expectations upside down in this blisteringly hot erotic suspense sequel . . . Dimon’s ability to weave together such strong, engaging plots is commendable, and her characters are surprising, complex and sensual. With a subplot as addictive as the main arc, this is a sequel—and a series—that simply should not be missed.”
–RT Book Reviews
“This entertaining cast of whip-smart, sardonic former felons will keep readers turning the pages for the sex and the snark alike.”
–Library Journal, starred review
PRAISE FOR
MERCY
“Everything I want in a book by HelenKay Dimon—emotional, sexy and smart.”
–New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis
“From the first page I was hooked. Captivating, steamy, with an intriguing hero and heroine, Mercy is one of the best books I’ve read this year.”
–New York Times bestselling author Vivian Arend
“Masterful. Edgy. Hot, hot, hot. Read this now.”
–Alison Kent, bestselling author
“Dimon turns up the heat in this sizzling romantic thriller . . . Perfect for readers who appreciate intense intrigue and very erotic romance with overtones of questionable consent.”
–Publishers Weekly
“Romantic suspense fans should give this one a try. I think you won’t be disappointed.”
–Fiction Vixen
“Dimon writes an engaging story . . . Enough tension and hot sex to keep readers who like it that way happily turning pages . . . Hot and bold in a hard-shell-over-a-soft-center kind of way that romance fans will find sexy, fun and satisfying.”
–Kirkus Reviews
“Dimon pulls off a rare balancing act, successfully blending a taut, intriguing caper with a searing, unsettling and profoundly compelling romance.”
–RT Book Reviews
PRAISE FOR HELENKAY DIMON
“She’s a delight.”
–New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd
“Sharp writing and plenty of sexy romantic sizzle.”
–Chicago Tribune
“HelenKay Dimon is a genius.”
–Joyfully Reviewed
“So smart, sexy and fast-paced, I devour her stories.”
–New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster
“Sexy, emotional, funny . . . Dimon gives it all to her readers . . . [This] shouldn’t be missed.”
–New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis
“The sex is steamy. The repartee is witty. There are some things in life you can just depend on, thank goodness.”
—Dear Author
“I didn’t want to stop reading.”
—Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
“Dimon’s fresh new series is enjoyable, and the plot will appeal to many different readers. By turns funny and romantic, the sexual tension between the main characters is portrayed perfectly.”
—RT Book Reviews
Titles by HelenKay Dimon
MERCY
ONLY
MINE
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
This book is an original publication of Penguin Random House LLC.
Copyright © 2015 by HelenKay Dimon.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
Heat and the “HEAT” design are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
For more information, visit penguin.com.
eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-19851-7
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Dimon, HelenKay.
Mine / HelenKay Dimon. – Heat trade paperback edition.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-425-28209-0 (softcover)
1. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. 2. Sexual dominance and submission—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3604.I467M56 2015
813'.6—dc23
2015016678
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Heat trade paperback edition / October 2015
Cover photo of sexy man © Tankist 276 / Shutterstock.
Cover design by Diana Kolsky.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
CONTENTS
Praise for HelenKay Dimon
Titles by HelenKay Dimon
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
About the Author
ONE
Tuesday at six fifteen. That’s when Gabe MacIntosh’s patience officially expired.
He’d been listening to Natalie Udall argue her case for over an hour. The woman sure could talk. She sat in the office chair and swiveled the seat back and forth. Tapped her fingernails against the conference room table. Ignored the water bottle he put in front of her more than thirty minutes ago while she battled every point he made. Treated him to her whole I’m-a-pissed-off-woman routine while repeatedly making it clear she thought she was in charge.
Smart and sexy but so wrong.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, hoping to wrap up the discussion and move on to the protection part of the program. He had to get to work. Much more non-bodyguard time alone with her and it would be a race to see which one exploded first, his brain or his dick.
The whole mind-wandering thing was new to him. He’d never had trouble concentrating or staying focused during an operation. He’d been trained by the best. An untold amount of government money had been spent, years consumed, honing his skills and turning him into an ace sniper. He could hunker down in a field for hours with hostiles lurking nearby, almost stepping on him, and never make a sound. Not until he was ready. Not until he decided to unleash a rash of fury and fire.
With her, something shifted. He noticed too much. Thought about her when he should have been concentrating only on her safety. Everything about her reeled him in. The straight long blond hair he dreamed about wrapping around his hand while he entered her. The way her slight southern accent slipped in when she rushed her words or got really pissed off.
The first time they met she wore a suit. The skirt had hit just above her knees and had his brain misfiring as he dreamed about running his palms up those pale thighs. Wrapping those lean legs around his waist. Today, weeks later, she wore pants, but the impact on him didn’t lessen one bit.
No question the strong female type appealed to him. So did that body, fit yet curvy. Hips that would fit his hands. Every other part of her perfect for licking and tasting. He never fucked on a job. He viewed an assignment as just that, a file he memorized and a body he watched over. Emotionless and straightforward. But with her he saw a woman, smart-mouthed, determined not to be a victim, competent and hard to scare.
So fucking hot.
But he’d been hired to protect her and that put her on the off-limits list . . . no matter what his dick thought.
She’d left her black-ops position with the CIA after a lengthy negotiation through her attorney, and an extraction agreement stored in a vault somewhere proved it. The pages of legalese spelled out her rights and responsibilities, and acted as a supposed guarantee that she would not be harmed. They both knew better. A pile of papers wouldn’t stop some ticked-off asshole in power from taking her out. From deciding she knew too much or made a wrong move.
Back when she had a job she’d been brave and determined. Refused to take a seat when the idiot men in her office had insisted she be quiet and blend in. That kind of shit made enemies. Which was why she needed him right now. Just for a short time. His presence as bodyguard added some assurance no one could get to her. That was the theory anyway.
Now he just had to convince her of his value.
He would watch her while his brother Andy and the rest of his team looked for signs of an impending attack against her. Once they were convinced the extraction agreement would hold and she’d remain safe, she could go lead whatever life she wanted and he’d go back to the office and his next assignment. Simple and efficient. He’d played this game many times. Unfortunately, Natalie didn’t appear all that excited about her role as potential target.
As if she read his mind, she started talking again. “I don’t need your protection.”
She’d been saying the same thing for what felt like hours. So many times that the refrain ran through his brain even when she wasn’t talking. “I heard you.”
“Then unlock the door, let me out and point me in the direction of my house.”
Thanks to all her time at The Farm, the CIA’s top secret training facility in Virginia, and who knew where else, Gabe guessed she’d get along just fine with so little direction. She’d somehow find her way back from their undisclosed location to wherever she intended to hide. Then she’d probably get shot in the head.
Yeah, not on his watch. “You’re staying with me.”
“You don’t get to decide.”
“I actually do.” He had a work contract in his office back at his company, Tosh Industries, that trumped her denials. She might not like the protection but her friends, concerned friends who were players among the Washington, D.C., power elite, had arranged it for her, paid for it, and she agreed in front of them. Now she was stuck. Gabe intended to see the operation through even if he had to lock her in a closet and sit in front of the door to keep her there and safe.
She continued to tap those fingers against the tabletop. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Believe me, I know.” He’d eyed every inch of her. Watched her walk and studied her file. He hadn’t seen her naked, but he could guess. That confidence, the swish of those hips. It all played in his mind on an endless loop until he ached with the need to strip that proper navy suit off her.
She froze in her chair. “I make my own decisions.”
“Not right now.” He did. He was in charge. He meant for work, but the idea of taking control in every other way appealed to him, too. Way more than it should.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He suddenly needed to say the words, to clue her in that she had him on edge. “Your body belongs to me.”
Tension flooded the room. Quick and without warning. Heat surged through him. Her big blue eyes blinked. She didn’t say anything, which should have been a relief, but Gabe felt anything but calm. His skin drew tight, felt stretched, his stomach hollow. The need to fuck her gripped him.
She leaned forward, not a big change in position. No, very subtle, almost imperceptible. “Excuse me?”
He cleared his throat. “For now. Until we know you’re out of danger. I decide what happens with you.”
Adding the context didn’t help to settle the energy pinging around the room. He shifted in his seat across from her and tried to rein in the thoughts bombarding him. She was a job, and an annoying one. When the first mental reminder failed, he tried again.
Most people appreciated his protection once they got over the shock of the cost. He didn’t do everyday shit. His business focused on covert, need-to-know cases. He didn’t advertise or go looking for work. Jobs came to him by reputation and through people who knew all the dirty little secrets. And the never-ending flood of those in Washington, D.C., kept him very busy.
He eyed the water bottle in front of her, thinking she’d have to take a breath or a drink soon. “I can name three members of your old team at the agency—the team you ran for the CIA—who are now dead.”
She shrugged. “Things happen.”
Like a fireball written off as a gas explosion. A murder-by-vehicle explained away as a fluke car accident. Accidental shootings, random robberies gone wrong. Gabe had seen it all, and so had she, which was why she needed to stop fighting and let him help.
“I’m not in the mood for games.” He needed to stand up, pace around. He forced his body to stay still.
“Which means what?”
“Give me some credit and don’t pretend I don’t know how your business works.”
She finally grabbed the water bottle. Held it. Tapped the bottom against the desk. “My old business. I’m unemployed. I followed my instincts, protected my team, and my boss pulled my security clearance. I couldn’t even get the okay to take a public tour of the building these days.”
He’d picked this office building as a neutral stop before they took off because it sat miles away from her condo in Washington, D.C., and her office at Langley. Outside the metro area. He’d hustled her out and kept her under wraps. But they needed to keep moving. They actually had a plane to catch. Not that she knew that, but it meant they were on a timetable and if she didn’t work with him soon he’d have to take drastic steps.
Just thinking about what that meant started a countdown ticking in his head. “You have five minutes.”
“Then what?” She rolled the water bottle between her palms. “You shoot me?”
This woman never stopped. He pushed, she pushed back. He just wished he knew why he found the back and forth so fucking hot. “Tempting.”
“Keep in mind I’m an expert with weapons.”
If he were the eye roll type, now would be the time. Since he wasn’t, he stood up instead. If he needed to implement Plan B he wanted to be on his feet. “I’m better.”
Her gaze followed him around the small conference room. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”
“Do I?”
“I’ll ignore that.” She stopped playing with the bottle and unscrewed the cap. A ripping sound cut through the room as she broke the seal.
Thanks to that death grip he half expected the plastic bottle to explode in her hand. “You now have four minutes.”
“It doesn’t matter, because in three minutes I’m going to get up and walk out of here.” She took a long drink then refastened the lid. “Without you following at my heels.”
She managed to make something so mundane look sexy but at least she finally drank from the damn bottle. Gabe mentally switched back to Plan A. “If you look around you’ll see a lack of windows and one door.”
“So?”
“You have to get through me before you can get out, and I think you’re too smart to pick that option.” But suddenly he wanted like hell for her to try.
She stood up and her balance faltered. Slightly and just for a second. With a hand against the table, she righted her body again. Then she came straight at him. Stopped right in front of him and in her high spiky heels almost met him eye to eye. Their bodies didn’t touch but the thin layer of air between them didn’t act as much of a deterrent.
She leaned in until her mouth hovered next to his. “You think I’m that easy to take?”
Son of a bitch. “I don’t know, Natalie. Do you want me to take you?”
She pulled back. “You assume because I’m a woman I’d be submissive during sex.”
Jesus, she went there. “Who said anything about sex?”
She snorted. “Oh, please.”
Just as he thought. They were finally on the same page, and it was the wrong damn page. Sure as hell the wrong time. “I know what I like.”
“I can guess.” She tipped a bit to the side and grabbed on to his shirt in a rough hold to stand upright again. “You demand complete dominance.”
“Mutual pleasure.”
Her body began to list to the side and she blinked a few times. “What did you . . .” She visibly swallowed as she shook her head. “What’s happening to me?”
“I think you know.” He slipped his hands around her elbows in a gentle touch. The room was going to sway for her and he needed to be ready.
“I don’t . . .” Her knees buckled as her grip on his shirt tightened. A second later her gaze flew to his. “You—”
“Drugged you.” He nodded as his gaze searched hers, trying to figure out how far gone she was at this point. “Yes.”
Before she could answer, her head tipped back and her body went limp. That hand dropped from his shirt and her body fell as if her bones had disintegrated.
He caught her before she hit the floor. Scooped her right up in his arms and stared down at her. Enjoyed the feel of her in his arms far too much. But he didn’t mind the sudden quiet. “Now you’ll follow my directions.”
The lock clicked and the door opened. In walked Gabe’s younger brother, Andy.
“Talking to unconscious women.” Andy shook his head. “Is that your thing now?”
Gabe refused to get diverted by bullshit talk. “Our scheduled transport should be here. We need to get moving.”
Andy glanced at Natalie then back to his brother. “I thought she’d never drink the water.”
That made two of them. The rush of relief stole some of the stiffness from Gabe’s shoulders. Since the alternate plan involved knocking her out, he’d been pretty damn grateful she got thirsty or nervous or whatever caused her to reach for that bottle.
“She’s careful.” He admired that. Admired so much about her.
“Really worried there for a few minutes that I’d have to listen to a lengthy discussion of the type of sex you preferred.” Andy shivered. “Not interested in that, by the way.”
At thirty-six, Gabe was six years older than Andy but sometimes felt like the grandfather of the company. He kept them on task. So, treating his brother to a front-row seat of the attraction kicking his ass was not Gabe’s idea of a good time. “She was testing boundaries. A smart strategy, actually.”
Andy smiled. “Boundaries?”
Enough standing around and talking nonsense. That wasn’t Gabe’s style anyway. “Do you want to die today?”
“Are you tough all of a sudden?” Andy pressed in the code and unlocked the door again. Opened it to the private area leading to the emergency stairs and the helicopter waiting on the roof. “To be honest, I was more concerned she’d get the drop on you, then I’d get stuck trying to get her out of town.”
“You’re hysterical.” Gabe followed his brother out the door and down the long hall.
“I’m not sure why you think I’m kidding.”
He held her close with her head tucked under his chin. The smell of her shampoo, something floral, filled his senses. “I can handle her.”
“Uh-huh.”
Unable to reach out and punch in the code, Gabe stopped at the door to the exit. Looked down at her face and that mouth. “Meaning?”
Silence pounded around them. Andy didn’t make a move for the door or say anything. The quiet had Gabe’s head snapping up. He looked at Andy, shorter with more of a runner’s build. He worked with a quiet confidence, but this time something else moved in his eyes. Concern, maybe?
They didn’t have time for this. The helicopter would take them to a private airstrip, then they needed to get on a jet and disappear.
Gabe was about to bark out orders when Andy piped up. “You’re looking at weeks alone with her in a snowed-in cabin.”
A fact that gnawed at Gabe. The close proximity would test the limits of his control, but he could not admit that. “I’ll refrain from strangling her.”
Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe, but will you be able to keep your other body parts away from her?”
Good fucking question. “She’s a job.”
Andy typed in the code and the emergency door opened. “You keep telling yourself that.”
That was the plan. Gabe just hoped he could stick to it.
TWO
Natalie stood at the window and watched the snow come down. More snow. Buckets of it fell every minute, or so it seemed. She knew because she’d been watching since she woke up fifteen minutes ago.
Exhaustion still pulled at her muscles and clouded her head. She didn’t panic or wonder what happened. She knew the answer—Gabe.
He’d drugged her to get his way. Not that she blamed him for using whatever means necessary to get a job done. She’d been in his position in the past and used the same knockout tactic. Back then if she couldn’t extract someone from the field with permission, she did it the hard way. Well, the hard way for them, not her.
Still, being on the receiving end ticked her off. Being dragged to who the hell knew where didn’t sit well either. From the topography and weather, she knew she’d been asleep for some time. She now saw towering trees and snowcapped mountains in the distance. No other houses were visible for miles. She had the eerie sense he’d stolen her away to the wilderness, leaving her dehydrated and woozy. And that meant being out of it and unable to fight back for a long time.
Yeah, he’d given her something that jacked up her system. It could take her some time—she had no idea how much—to regain her equilibrium. Until then she’d be vulnerable to all sorts of dangers. The type she normally handled with ease, from assassin attack to the simple task of regulating her own body temperature.
That’s what she got for leaving the CIA on bad terms. A farewell gift that included having her life flipped inside out while she waited for the fallout in the middle of nowhere.
First step: find her so-called bodyguard and set down some ground rules that included no drugs unless she was the one administering them. And if she found the opportunity to punch him, she just might grab it. Paybacks were a bitch and he should know that.
Nothing moved in the towering trees weighed down with thick white powder. Every now and then she’d hear a whoosh and snow would tumble, adding to the piles already covering the ground. The place didn’t work for her. It was too quiet, too isolated. Someone could approach through the makeshift forest around the small cabin. That meant she needed to move. Make a plan, probably find viable transportation.
Not that she was dressed for tracking and running. She stood in jeans and hiking boots. Gabe would have to explain that part since the last time she remembered she’d been wearing a suit. Blue, most likely. Probably had her hair pinned up, which she did for work. Now it rested on her shoulders and spread down her back.
Forget about the rest of it. The man was going to get his ass kicked for stripping her. She glanced down at the gun in her hand. Maybe more than an ass-kicking, but at least he left her a weapon. She’d just need to be clear that didn’t exactly make up for the rest.
She looked out over the bright white landscape and squinted, searching the ground for footprints. The gray sky, so thick with clouds and cutting off any natural light, made it hard to judge the actual time of day. But she could guess, because over the years and through numerous assignments she’d developed an innate sense about this sort of thing.
She’d spent months at The Farm and later been dropped in the middle of Germany for survivalist training. Spent time in the desert and Arctic. She’d seen it all, which made the idea that she needed a bodyguard to watch over her so strange. Early in her career she had played that role. Once she came out of the field and took an administrative job at the CIA, she watched over her team. From a distance, but she still thought of them as her responsibility and did anything to keep them safe, which was how she ended up getting fired. With all that time acting as the protector it was difficult to switch roles and accept being the protected.
Not that she could see her supposed bodyguard right now. His ability to blend in surprised and impressed her. He wasn’t exactly small. He had the big, burly, bearded thing down. Not her usual type. Not even a little, which made her wonder why the look worked for her now. Or did before he drugged her . . . the jackass.
Blocking out the mental image she’d stored of Gabe and the fogginess in her brain, she wrapped the oversized flannel shirt around her and reached for the doorknob. It turned in her hand, which both stunned her and didn’t. Leave it to Gabe to keep her guessing. To act as if she were free to go but trap her in a place that made leaving nearly impossible . . . or so he thought. Looked like he underestimated her. Good. She hoped he kept doing that.
The snow now bordered on sleet and made a clicking sound as it fell to the ground. Ice crackled in the trees. People who loved winter would appreciate this scene. She didn’t. She grew up in the south and craved heat. After years in D.C.’s humidity, venturing out in several feet of snow just added to how much she hated what her life had become.
She stepped out on the small porch. The frigid air blew around her, whipping through her clothes and chilling her skin. It took only seconds for her to know that the drugs really had dropped her body’s defenses, ratcheting up the shock against her skin. A thought tugged at her, that she should stay inside, but she blocked the tiny voice in her head. She’d been in deep-freeze shooting situations. Owned special gloves. She didn’t have them on her now, but she had skills.
The bitter cold cut through her as she moved around, going down one step then the next, from the porch to what probably constituted a lawn in non-snow season. Her boots crunched against the layer of ice covering mounds of white. Snow pelted her face. She glanced around, checking for any sign of her protector, the former sniper turned bodyguard she didn’t want. Only the quiet sounds of the forest echoed back to her.
She took a few more careful steps and rounded the cabin to peer into the wall of trees crowding around the side of the building and stretching out as far as she could see. Her hand tightened around the Glock. Numbness settled in her fingers. She flexed them to keep the blood running, careful not to touch the trigger. She’d seen more than one blood-soaked accident caused by fingers contracting, poor gloves or a bad grip. The cold brought death.
The eerie quiet had her on edge, waiting. A wave of tension crashed over her. She’d insisted the CIA wouldn’t come after her now that she retired, but she never believed it. She only shared those denials to keep from getting stuck with a bodyguard. That didn’t work out so well. But on her own she’d be faster. In charge. Not beholden to a six-foot-two mountain man.
She ignored the biting cold and took a few more steps. Then froze. The slide of footsteps echoed back to her. She heard . . . something. Faint. Almost like a scratching. Her body snapped to attention and her brain switched to analysis mode. If they were coming, if people wanted to take her out, they’d go down with her.
A heavy thump sounded behind her and she spun around. She tried to lift the gun but her muscles suddenly weighed too much. A hit knocked her wrist and the weapon flew. Her instincts kicked in and she switched to autopilot. The world blurred around her. She concentrated on the figure moving into her view, not focusing on a face but, instead, seeing a target.
Adrenaline pumped through her, making her forget about the chill and the drugs still slowing her mind and her movements. She landed a roundhouse kick then pulled back and slammed her foot into a hard stomach. A heavy grunt registered but she didn’t let up. Fighting off the lethargy weighing her down, she struck out with the heel of her hand, aiming for a chin. Knowing she suffered from a height and weight disadvantage, she readied to launch a quick third attack.
Before she could raise her head and size up her attacker, he crashed into her. Strong arms wrapped around her in a crushing hold. The band tightened across her chest as her body took flight. A blanket of white whizzed by her and she saw the ground coming. Knowing didn’t lessen the hit. Her body slammed into the packed snow. Actually bounced.
The air left her lungs as hundreds of pounds of furious male pressed her deeper into the cold snow. Determination fueled her muscles. She thrashed and hit and kicked.
Hands tightened around her wrists and trapped them against the ground. “Natalie, enough.”
The rough voice stopped her, and the haze cleared. She looked up into the dark eyes of Gabe MacIntosh, the man charged with protecting her. His broad shoulders blocked the view of the world around her.
Black hair, slightly too long with a bit of curl at the edges. The brooding expression and quiet dignity that matched the mystery winding around him. Retired military, current owner of a security company. Right now with the rich scruff around his mouth he looked more lumberjack than professional rescuer.
And she hated that she noticed any of it.
“What’s wrong with you?” She spit out the question over the rage building inside her.
His intense glare didn’t let up. “You pointed the gun at me.”
He had to be kidding. She tried to lift her hand and punch him, but he had her arms pinned to the ground on either side of her head. The landscape came into focus as the killing frenzy pulsing through her eased. But the anger still simmered. “Because you snuck up on me.”
Those dark eyes narrowed. “Are we really doing this?”
Sometimes he used too few words and she had no idea what he was saying. “What?”
“Fighting about nothing.”
The minutes ticked by and she became aware of the hard body balancing against her and the scent of the outdoors on his skin. She stood five eight in bare feet and up until recently held a position that required her to stay fit and battle-ready at all times. Not exactly petite and certainly not weak. Still, he overwhelmed her. Being this close to him set off a battle between her brain and her body. He was a distraction. He tried to be helpful, but deep down she still believed heading out on her own and going into hiding without any contact with her old life was the only way to survive.
She struggled to remember what she was saying. “You are the one who—”
“You wouldn’t have heard me if I wanted to sneak up on you.” His frown eased. “I let you know I was coming.”
“A normal person would have called out my name in warning.”
“Never said I was normal.”
“No argument there.” She’d known him for about five weeks, and he’d been anything but.
At first, he followed her around as her lawyer, Sebastian Jameson, negotiated her extraction agreement with the CIA. Gabe never said a word back then. He slid into the background and watched until she could sense him. Until his presence made her jumpy. But Bast had insisted on the extra layer of protection.
Those days passed with each one stretching longer than the one before. The more Gabe hovered, the more she’d fought her awareness of him. The towering frame. The rough exterior. That face and those eyes that followed her everywhere.
