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“He’s right,” Slade added. “You should never turn it off.”
She swung her head, eyes shooting bullets at him. “You’re the reason I shut it off! If you could ever keep your mouth shut.”
God, he loved her all fired up. Sassy. Spicy.
His gaze dropped to her lips. For a heartbeat, she stilled and he noted the small tell she had whenever she was turned on—her head was cocked slightly to the side.
How many times had the span of sumptuous flesh on her neck enticed him? How many times had he placed his lips there and unraveled her with his kisses?
Her eyes dipped to his mouth too. That familiar electricity coursed between them as if they’d touched the same electric fence and neither could let go.
Lena had to twist her entire body in order to sever that connection.
Now that he knew she was safe, he could focus on his body again. “Anyone have a bottle of water on hand?”
Mustang unzipped a pack between his feet and passed the bottle to Slade.
He twisted the cap off and brought the precious fluid to his parched mouth. Even more parched knowing that Lena wasn’t immune to him. After their encounter at the gala and the cold shoulder she gave him, he wondered if she really had only worked him out of her system and now they were through.
Her body language told him that was not the case. Even though she refused to meet his gaze again, or allow her body to creep closer to his across the seat, she could never hide her true feelings from him.
He knew Lena better than any other person on the planet—and he’d definitely be using that as a weapon in the battle for her heart.
SIX
“Hold still, dammit.” Lena pinched the gauze saturated with antiseptic and counted to ten for patience. This man was straining her very last nerve.
He twitched his head away from her, but couldn’t get far. They were trapped in the tiny airplane bathroom. At least he couldn’t escape.
“It’s fine. Already scabbed over.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. The man bore a thick scab at the corner of one eye. “I’ll bet my Sig Sauer that the person who punched you did not have on gloves at the time.”
“It was a boot.”
“All the more reason to clean it out.”
Slade leveled an obstinate look at her. The kind that riled Lena every time. Actually, that was every look he gave her. He drove her insane.
She glared back at him, at a standoff.
When he didn’t back down after three endless seconds, she widened her eyes in every mom’s listen-to-what-I-say expression. After that didn’t work, she jutted her jaw forward and intensified her glare.
His eyelids drooped, shutting off the burning look he was giving her. “Fine. But try to be gentle. I know how you like to hurt me.”
Frost had debriefed Slade and medical checked him. Finding him only dehydrated with a few cuts and bruises, Frost started an IV.
Heart hammering, she inched between Slade’s splayed knees. She was careful of the line while she touched the gauze to the wound. Aware of how close she stood to him, how his muscled thighs closed her in, she dabbed at the cut.
When she brushed at the corner harder so she could get an obvious speck of dirt out of the wound, he didn’t even make a noise of pain.
Did you expect less of this man? He’s a freakin’ robot.
At the sound of a boot on the floor, she swung her head to see Frost in the doorway. “You about done?” he asked.
“Almost.”
“The pilot’s ready to taxi. He needs you in your seats.”
