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God, I don’t want this to go away.
“Your thinking woke me up.” A gruff, oh-so-sexy voice vibrated from deep in his chest.
“Sorry. I didn’t think my anxiety had reached telepathic levels.”
He kissed my temple. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
Pulling his arm out from under me, Justin lifted onto his elbow. I relaxed against the floor and looked up at the man that I wasalreadyin love with.
Shit.
“Talk to me,” he said. “Remember, I’m a good listener.”
“You’re good at a lot more than that.”
He grinned. “I know. And you’re good at deflecting.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m ...” I squeezed my eyes shut, hiding under my hands. “It’s just ... I have strong feelings for you.”
A moment passed, and I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. Just when I was about to slide out from under him and run away buck naked into the snow (which would have stung less than Justin’s lack of words at that moment), he gently pried my hands away from my face.
When I opened my eyes, his expression shocked me. It was one of affection. Adoration. Love.
“I know,” he said simply, the corner of his lip curling up.
“That’s it?” I deadpanned. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“I also know that you know that I feel exactly the same about you.”
“Do I?”
“You knew it the moment I kissed you back when you fake-kissed me.”
I exhaled, feeling my pulse begin to calm. He was right. And why do women need such reassurance?
I shook my head. “This is just so crazy, you know? You’re huntingmy father, Justin. And you just slept with your target’s daughter.”
“Wrong. I actually slept with my target, which iswayworse.” He smoothed back my hair, gazing down at me. “We are living moment to moment now. Everything has been flipped on its head. But one thing is for certain—I am not leaving you.”
“And I’m not leaving you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I exhaled, then began chewing on my lower lip. “Can you call your boss? Can he do something to help us?”
Justin snorted. “Not if I want to live another day.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve officially gone rogue on this mission. Which is unacceptable, as it should be. In the world of mercenaries, there is either a successful mission or a failed one. There is no in-between—no matter what happens. I’ve already made decisions that will get me fired. Decisions I would make again and again and again, to be clear.”
“So, what do we do?” I asked.
“Make a plan.”
