Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(155)

“Oh,” she murmured. “I see. I’ll give it to him.”

“He’s a good guy,” he offered. “Brave. It was the first nice thing anybody had done for her in months. It made a big impression on her. I think she’s hoping he’ll keep himself pure for her until she grows up.”

“Hmm,” Becca murmured noncommittally. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were her, knowing Joshie. Is she, um, OK?”

“She’s fine now,” he said. “The McClouds flew her mom over from Kiev right away, while I was still in the hospital. She and Sveti went back home to Ukraina last week.”

“And the others? What about Pavel’s son?”

“Back with his mother and brother. The kid’s marked for life, but he might pull through. The rest of them are still stateside, in protective custody. When this thing hit the news, there were thousands of offers to adopt them, so we’ll see. All except for Rachel, that is.”

“What about Rachel?”

He rolled his eyes. “Tam,” he said. “Rachel’s with Tam.”

Becca’s eyes got huge. “No way!”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Way,” he said. “They hit it off. Now they’re inseparable. Who’d have thought, huh?”

“Oh, God. That poor little girl!” Becca said, dismayed.

“It’s OK. Tam’s good to her, in her own weird way. Rachel worships her. And there’s something to be said for a mom who could take out a squadron of Delta Force soldiers using nothing but her tits and her earrings. The McCloud crowd thinks it’s a great joke. I saw them at the party. They look good together. Surreal, but good.”

His hands darted out and grabbed her wrists before she could jerk out of range. He pulled them forward to examine. The scars from the cuffs were still angry red. In time, they would fade.

But she would always bear the marks.

“Do they hurt?” he asked softly.

She yanked them back. “They’re fine. Please, Nick. I’ve got a garden party this afternoon, and I’ve got to finish my prep, so—”

“I’ve had enough chitchat too. I’ve figured out that catching a bullet for you hasn’t earned me enough points for you to take me back. But it sure as hell ought to earn me a f*cking private conversation.”

Becca’s eyes fell. She bit her lip. The blond girl’s eyes got big.

“I’ll say what I need to say in front of an audience if I have to,” he went on grimly. “But you’re the one who’ll be embarrassed. Not me.”

“Manipulative bastard,” she whispered.

“Um, Becca? Should I, like, go?” the girl faltered.

“No, Cheryl Ann. Mind the desk,” Becca said. “You,” she jerked her chin at Nick. “Come on in here. If you must.”



She would be calm. She was strong now, she told herself. She’d been through the fire, and she’d emerged hardened, tempered. Tough.

For awhile, after that awful night, she thought she might never feel again. Anything, good or bad. She’d been relieved at the time. She hadn’t cried since then. Hadn’t crumbled once. She’d kept it together.

She was glad he was behind her on the stairs so he couldn’t see her face. Glad, too, that she was wearing this gauzy blue sundress. Not that she wanted to attract him. But looking nice gave a woman a slight advantage, and she needed every advantage she could get.

He was so…oh, there was no word for how he was. No defense against it. It wasn’t fair, for him to come here and flaunt his mojo at her. Throbbing all those intense male vibes at her on purpose to muddle her and scramble her. Looking at her with his trademark gaze of smoldering volcanic desire. Making her weak with longing.

She couldn’t give in. He was too hard for her. He was a rock that she would break herself on, and she was shipwrecked already. Still in salvage mode, trying to find all the chunks of herself.

She led him into the shabby accounting office above the kitchen space. It was sparsely furnished, just a desk heaped with paperwork and a folding chair. She shut the door.

Nick opened his mouth. She held up her hand to forestall him. “Before we say anything, let’s just get one thing straight. Thank you.”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“Thank you,” she repeated, her voice stiff and mechanical. “I have a lot to be thankful for. What you did on the island, to begin with. Saving Josh and Carrie, and those others. Coming back for me, getting shot for me. It was very brave and noble. Very heroic.”

He waited. “And?”

She threw up her hands. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I sense there’s more,” he said. “Let me have it.”

“No,” she said. “There isn’t. That’s the point, Nick. It ends right there. Thank you. Period. Stop.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no,” he said. “It can’t end there.”

“Oh, yes it can,” she said. “I will be the first to admit that you deserve a medal for what you did—”

“But I don’t deserve you?”

Doubt gripped her, anxious, sucking, awful. Oh, God, why did it hurt so much? How could it be so painful just to do the right thing?

She forced herself to remember the dense darkness of the warehouse. The pit of despair she was still trying to climb out of.