Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(88)

Gage set her on her feet and her shoulders quivered.

“You okay?” he asked.

A shudder moved through her and he heard her teeth rattle.

“Here, you’re freezing.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Even soggy and cold, she felt incredible, and he tried not to focus on her body as he shared his heat with her.

“This is so stupid,” she muttered. “It’s probably seventy degrees out.” Her arms went around his waist.

“We’re wet. And you’re in shock. Getting shot at can do that to you.”

“Does it happen to you?” She tilted her head back and he could feel her breath on his neck.

“I’m used to it.”

“I thought I was used to it, too, but maybe I need more practice.”

He took her by the shoulders and eased her away from him. “When have you ever been shot at before tonight?”

A quiet sigh. “In northern Iraq.”

“That’s one of the most dangerous places on the planet. What the hell were you doing there?”

She drifted closer and her arms went back around him. “Excavating mass graves. Not everyone was glad for us to be there. We ended up needing an armed guard just to get our work done.” She rested her forehead against his chest. “I still have nightmares.”

She shuddered again and his grip tightened instinctively. His few objective brain cells were screaming for him to let go of her, but she felt too good. And she smelled too good. And the realization that she wanted this kind of comfort from him was a perverse turn-on. This was the one woman he could not have, and yet he’d never wanted anyone more. What the hell was wrong with him?

She tipped her head back. “Where are we?” she whispered.

“At the petroglyphs.”

She pulled away and glanced around. “I didn’t realize we were so close to camp. Why’d we stop? Let’s just go.”

He pulled her behind a rock before switching on his flashlight. No sense broadcasting their whereabouts with a lantern. “I want to look at this ankle.” He shrugged out of his rucksack and crouched at her feet. “What’d you do, sprain it?”

“Cut it, going through that hole. Then landed on it wrong.”

He shined his flashlight on her leg and pushed her sock down.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry.” The swelling wasn’t bad. The sock was saturated with blood, though, and he gently pulled it away from her skin. He reached into his pack for a water bottle and doused the cut. It was about three inches long but not too deep.

“We need to get this cleaned up back at the lodge,” he said.

“Do you have any alcohol in your pack? Maybe some hand sanitizer?”

“I’ve got some Super Glue for emergencies,” he said. “But a butterfly bandage should do it for something this shallow. You had a tetanus shot recently?”

She didn’t answer. He shined the flashlight up at her and he saw she was gazing down at him with the strangest expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing, I just…” She lifted her hand and combed her fingers into his hair and the jolt of lust nearly knocked him over. He switched off the flashlight and rose to his feet. Another hand in his hair, then his heart gave a kick as her cool fingers curled against his scalp.

“Kelsey—”

She pulled his head down and kissed him.

SHE FELT HIM hesitate for maybe a half a second. And then his arms wrapped around her and he melded her body against him as his tongue swept into her mouth. For days, she’d had romantic fantasies about kissing him, but she’d been wrong. There was no romance here, just a fierce hunger that thrilled her right down to her toes.

An ache spread through her and she pressed against him, loving the taste of his tongue and the hardness of his body and the surprising softness of his hair between her fingers. He eased her back against a rock, protecting her head with his hand as he held her in place and continued to kiss her as if he’d never get enough, as if he couldn’t stop. Something had snapped in him. And she realized that cool disinterest he’d shown her these past few days had been an act. He’d been burning, just like she had. She wished she’d known. She wished she could see his face. She wanted to see the fire in his eyes as he finally let her in on this secret he’d been hiding.

She slipped her hands into the pockets of his jeans and pulled him closer, as close as she could get him. She ground her hips against him and heard the low groan deep in his chest.

He pulled back. “Kelsey—”

She rose up and kissed him again, just in case he was crazy enough to put the brakes on. Something about her uncle. Or her honor. Or some other such bullshit that she didn’t want to hear right now.

He pulled back again. “Kelsey, we can’t.” His voice sounded strained.

“Why can’t we?”

He slipped her hands out of his pockets and eased back. “Look… I like you.”

Her blood went cold. “Don’t say it.” She turned away. God, if he used the word “friend” she was going to scream.

“If circumstances were different—”

“Let’s just go.”

He took her arm and she shook him off. Then she walked away from him, as far as she felt comfortable. It would be just her luck to take a wrong step and tumble off the cliff. She felt mortified. Look, I like you. Who was he trying to convince?