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I hadn’t pulled the trigger because…I had feelings for him.
I glared at the ground, my cheeks heating. This isn’t me. I’d never allow something like this to happen. But he’d blindsided me because he was so utterly different to Lev, to any spy. He wasn’t devious and tricksy, he was big and straightforward and wore his heart on his sleeve. I’d been utterly unprepared for that. I’d ignored those feelings, pushed them down inside me out of anger and guilt: I had no right to feel those things anymore.
And then I’d tried to kill him and those feelings had boiled up inside me. My layers of ice had cracked wide open, right in front of him, exposing my weak, helpless core.
That’s why I couldn’t look into his eyes. I had no idea how I was going to control myself, if I did.
The path tilted gradually upward. As the going got tougher and tougher, both of us began to breathe hard. My legs were already aching but I pressed on.
“Hey,” he called from behind me.
I didn’t stop.
“Hey, wait up.”
I pretended I hadn’t heard him, delaying the inevitable for as long as possible.
“Hey!” This time, there was a warning in his voice. That edge of authority that told me he’d throw me over his shoulder again if I disobeyed. I stopped, but didn’t look back.
His footsteps grew louder behind me: I could feel the solid, muscled mass of him through the ground, hear the twigs cracking under his boots. Then his breathing, deep and slow, only a foot or so behind me. He was waiting for me to turn around.
I didn’t.
He gave a grunt of disapproval and walked around in front of me. I quickly found a tree to study. This should be easy, I thought furiously. I’d looked men in the eyes countless times and pretended I had feelings for them. Why couldn’t I do the opposite?
I could feel his eyes on me, the heat of his gaze baking one side of my face, willing me to look at him. My heart started to pound but I stubbornly refused to look.
He sighed and swung his pack off his back, then crouched in front of me. “We’ve still got a long way to go. Figure it wouldn’t hurt for you to carry some of the load. Might slow you down a little.”
He emptied things out of his pack and pulled out a second, smaller backpack. He filled it with the clothes I’d stripped off after the lake, a bottle of water and a few other odds and ends. He passed it to me and I pulled it on. For all he talked about putting me to work, the pack was only about half full. He’d kept all the heavy stuff for himself and the gesture made my chest ache.
He stood, towering over me, and started adjusting the straps, making sure the pack was comfortable for me. Like I’m a child, I thought savagely, desperately trying to be angry. I realized I was staring at his hands as he worked the straps and buckles, fixated on those strong, thick fingers. Stop it, I told myself.
Then something started to happen. His hands slowed on the straps. Then they stopped completely, his palms resting on my shoulders, the heat of them throbbing through my thin shirt. Time became thick and syrupy slow. I could hear him breathing, quick and shallow, and I could feel his gaze, furnace-hot, on my lips. My own angry breathing faltered.
Very slowly, his hands lifted from my shoulders. They began to rotate as if...
As if he was about to cup my cheeks and kiss me.
I set my jaw and made my face like ice. I stared off into the distance so hard I thought my eyes might water.
His hands paused...and then fell to his sides and he turned away. I’d won. But it didn’t feel like victory.
We set off again and the trail got steadily steeper. My thighs started to burn from the constant uphill grade. The sun was high in the sky, and I was glad we were in the shade.
After another half hour, the going got so steep that Colton called a halt again. This time, he came to stand in front of me and just waited until I looked at him. I kept my eyes stubbornly fixed on a tree root.
His finger and thumb gripped my chin and lifted my head to look at him. I panicked, trying to find something that wasn’t him, but he was so big, filling my vision—
My eyes met his and suddenly I was falling, plummeting, into rich, deep brown and glowing, smoldering amber. I swallowed and my breathing went shaky.
“I’m gonna free your hands so you can climb,” he told me. “You run off again and this time, I will take you over my knee.”
