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I didn’t need to hear more warnings about him being bad for me. He’d always be the nice guy who’d kept me sane and safe on the edge of what was left of that floor over thirteen years ago. I’d never forget the man who’d patiently dealt with my social awkwardness each time we’d spoken over the years. Or the grief-stricken man who’d cried into my shoulder at Rebecca’s funeral reception.
Carter unexpectedly sat back on his heels, secured the rope in his hand, and quietly returned to the work of tying my ankles to the chair.
“I don’t want someone else protecting me. The safest place is with you.” The few tears sliding down my cheek would be great for the hostage video, but I still didn’t want them there. Tears would put up another wall between us. Justify him seeing me as someone he’d “corrupt.” The world as we knew it could quite possibly be on the verge of ending, but there I was wanting to beg him to keep me. To corrupt me.
“I have to turn you over to Bravo.” His words came across sad that time, like maybe he didn’t want to turn me over after all.
“Aren’t you a man who gives orders, not takes them?” I tried to fight back future tears from falling. They needed to stay in the past.
The slight hint of a smile from him threw me off yet again. “You love to provoke me, don’t you?”
The fluttery feeling in my stomach shot between my legs and pulsed there. “Only when you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
That semi-smile quickly transitioned into a grimace, and he gestured for me to place my hands behind the back of the chair. I did as he asked, and he leaned in so close our mouths nearly touched as he bound my wrists. “The problem is,” he said steadily, eyes locking with mine as his hands deftly worked with the rope, “I do see you. More than you realize. And that’s problematic for many reasons.”
The EMP weapon. Bad guys. End-of-days scenario. I know, I know. But what else was he trying to say there? What was the “more” part of that statement?
Tying off my bindings, he set one hand to the wall over my shoulder and dropped his mouth over my ear. “I already told you why you need to stay away from me, and you’re not listening.” His deep, intense tone had me pinning my thighs together.
“Make me behave, then.” I wasn’t sure where the huskiness in my voice came from, but I craved more of that boldness from my tongue. I scooched around on the seat, a reminder my hands and ankles were tied to the chair, and I was at his mercy.
“You have no idea how badly I want to make you behave,” he said into my ear, his low rumbly voice cutting through me.
“If we had time, would you?” I squeezed my eyes closed, waiting for his rejection.
“Yes,” he rasped, shocking me, then his teeth grazed my earlobe.
“What would you do to me?” Had I ever been this aroused in all of my life?
At the feel of his hand circling my throat, I opened my eyes. He was gently holding me there while staring at my face. His grasp tightened a touch as his palm shifted higher and higher until his thumb hooked the side of my chin, urging me to slant my head a touch. “You’re dangerous.”
Me? I’m the dangerous one? I swallowed, knowing he’d feel the movement, his hand still attached to my throat like he owned my breath, words, and my very being.
I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t happily hand over all three for one night with this man, and I wasn’t a one-night kind of girl.
“I’m dangerous because I scare you.” The truth always managed to escape me so easily around him. “You like to be in control, and you hate that you lose it around me.” If true, then well, ditto, because my heart always took over for my head in this man’s presence. I became numb to logic. Ignorant to reason. Possessed by need. Swept away by desire.
Still holding me, his other hand braced against the wall, he was the one angling his head now, drawing his mouth near mine. “You’re wrong.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes, trying to maintain my confidence and not let my inner awkwardness come out like normal. “No, I’m not. Remember, energy doesn’t lie.”
“You’re wrong,” he repeated, grinding out his words that time. “I don’t hate that you make me feel out of control.” His lips brushed against mine, but he didn’t kiss me. “I think I love it, and that’s why I need to stay away from you.” He released my throat, and at the loss of his touch, I opened my eyes to find him pushing away from the wall to stand.
But no matter how much physical distance he put between us, the moment would never be gone.
He could put an ocean of reasons between us as to why we should never kiss again, and maybe they’d all make sense given the hurdles we were facing, but?—
I let go of my runaway thoughts when his hand abruptly went to his sidearm and he turned his head, listening to something.
Then I heard that something, too.
Gunfire from outside.
We were under attack.
37
DIANA
