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“You followed me?”
“I saw you and I thought you might need backup. Where’s Volk?”
“He’s not with me. Look I need to get—” Sirens sounded in the distance and her eyes widened. “You called the cops?”
“Yeah, like I said. I had no idea what was going on. We need to leave. I can’t be caught here.”
“Neither can I. Too many questions I can’t answer.” She wasn’t sure the CIA would get her out of this mess, but she’d prefer not to have to explain to them how she’d gotten into it.Stay under the radar.She would get another shot at Ja. Preacher on the other hand would be in a world of hurt. If he was discovered here, he would have to explain how he’d ended up in her mess. Again, she didn’t relish the explanation to Iceman or Rose.
Although, the tat story might work. He was a sailor, and he was just at the wrong place, wrong time. The Navy wouldn’t see that. They would only see that he had compromised the whole mission he was on. Whatever that was. Best to disappear.
He stepped toward the front, but the first of the vehicles pulled up. There was no time. Feeling unreasonably protective of him, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the back door as the sound of the two men upstairs pounded down toward the police threat. Anyone could tell just by looking at him that he needed no help from her.
But he had broken protocol to come after her, to help her. It wasn’t one of his best ideas, but he had good intentions, and to her despair, this attraction between them hadn’t dissipated at all. It curled around her like a vise, dangerously distracting her. How was she ever going to get over this man? This unavailable man she had wronged so deeply, and he wasn’t even aware of it?
All she had were fears that she didn’t want to deal with when it came to Boyce “Preacher” Carmichael. Her biggest fears would be his disappointment, his rejection, the light he had in his eyes for her every damn time he saw her would dim, or—her heart lurched at the thought—go out completely.
She realized that he had no idea what was going on here, that she was off the grid, rogue. He just did what any good operator, and a man who wanted her, would do. She never forgot the barrier they had between each other was self-inflicted. He was a man searching for something he had lost, or forgotten, or couldn’t seem to reach. All he was doing was covering her back because they had bonded so deeply, they were lost in trying to figure out how to get untangled.
It was imperative that she untangle herself from him before she completely lost herself and couldn’t bear to hurt him in any way.
Because she was going to hurt him.
It was inevitable. Self-destructive was her middle name. She only knew how to destroy, not build beautiful things. He deserved a woman who knew how to encompass all her gifts and more.
She pulled the door open and darted into the back. They only had moments before the police would cut off this as an escape route. She dragged him behind the dumpster. Not a safe place at all.
“We can’t stay here,” he whispered.
“Do you trust me?” she asked as she peeked around the dumpster and saw their escape route. It was risky, but the best option at this time. She looked back at him.
He stared at her, his gaze darkening, and the muscles of his throat contracted as his jaw tensed. “Yes,” he hissed. “What—”
“Follow me,” she said, wanting with all her being to save him from a career-ending failure because he followed her into this madness. She ducked around the side of the dumpster. A police vehicle had pulled back here, and two officers disappeared through the back door. Automatic gunfire cracked off. She reached the trunk of the cruiser and within seconds had it open. “Get in,” she said.
“Unbelievable,” he rasped as he dived headfirst into the trunk. She slipped in after him and closed it with just a sliver to see what was going on outside.
It was a tight fit and she had to literally snuggle her body to his, her back against his chest, her butt against his groin. Preacher inhaled unevenly at the contact. She couldn’t help but press up against what was a growing hard on.
Yeesh…men…
She looked back at him, the barely-there light from the streetlamps just enough to make out his features. He’d had to leave his shirt behind, and the shadows caressed his tanned, muscled shoulders and chest, the fine sparkle of rain on his upper body shimmered. His hair was a complete mess, giving him a mussed reclining-samurai look. The curls wrapped around the back of his ears and his neck in a rakish way that felt in tune with her rogue heart. Sex and sin personified.
“You sure this was the best idea?” he rasped, shifting slightly. She suspected he was trying to alleviate the pressure of her ass against his now fully formed erection. Where before his heart’s measured cadence beat at her back, she could now feel it thumping. The man was calm as hell even in this type of situation, but in her experience, SEALs assessed a situation and followed through. They weren’t passive guys. So, if Preacher thought this was a completely bonkers idea, his body would have revealed that to her. She didn’t want to get all emotional about the way he trusted her, especially since she felt she’d betrayed him on their last op.
But with the increase in his heart rate from the proximity of her body, and the hard evidence of his own desire, those sensual memories washed over her, the warmth of the water in the shower, his heated skin, the taste of him against her lips and tongue, the overall, wild craving that never seemed to go away. She took a slow breath and let it out to try to keep her equilibrium. They weren’t out of the woods yet.
“Stop squirming. That isn’t…helping.”
“It’s adrenaline,” he said gruffly.
“Sure, it is,” she said, throwing him a wry look over her shoulder. “Anyway. Let’s keep our minds off that. The trunk was a good choice. They’re going to be handling that crime scene, helping the victims, and booking the suspects. They’ll be way too busy. As soon as we can, we’ll get out.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Several times,” she said. “It’s so unexpected, they would never think to check their trunks.”
“You are a piece of work, Karasu.” She stiffened at his irritated tone. “But one hell of a bold and brilliant operator.”
