“Then this is as good a place as any to leave the truck.”
“What?” Emily looked around. “Why leave it here?”
Givenhow bravely she’d faced down the Wankstain Brothers, it was difficult for Christian to remember that she wasn’t an operator. She had all the grit of one. All the fire in her eyes and steel in her spine. But she didn’t have the training the rest of them did, or the knowledge that had come through endless missions in countless different countries.
“This is a stolen vehicle,” he explained, reachingfor the door handle, “and if it’s been reported stolen, we daren’t have it anywhere near us. Also, even if ithasn’tbeen reported stolen, we still don’t want there to be any evidence of our presence at the manor house. Who knows if the local constable does patrols out this way? Best to leave the truck here. Out of sight.”
“Right.” Emily nodded, sliding off Christian’s lap to follow the otherswho were already piling out of the truck.
Christian remained where he was for a couple of seconds. For one thing, his right leg was asleep. For another, he needed a tad bit of time to battle the odd sense of bereftness that Emily’s sudden departure caused.
When he finally exited the pickup truck and grabbed his rucksack from the bed, it was to find Emily frowning and gnawing her lowerlip. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She looked around at the dripping forest, then back at the gravel road. “This truck could sit out here for weeks before it’s found.”
His frown asked,Yeah, so?
Her pursed lips said without words,So whoever owns it no doubt needs it.
See?She tried to act all tough and take-no-guff. But she couldn’t hide her soft underbelly. Emily cared. Even aboutpeople she didn’t know and would likely never meet.
He glanced around. Everyone was busy shrugging into their packs. Everyone except Angel, that is.
The former Mossad agent was wiping down the inside of the truck again. He seemed to do that by rote, which was odd considering the man didn’t evenhavefingerprints. They’d been burned off him at the same time he’d undergone extensive plasticsurgery and had his vocal cords scoured.
When Christian turned back to Emily, it was to find her still eyeing the truck, still gnawing that delectable lower lip and driving him to distraction. He desperately wanted to tell her they could move the farm truck to a more visible area. But that wouldn’t be thinking with his brain. That would be thinking with the decidedly less intelligent organbeating behind his breastbone.
Laying a reassuring hand on her arm, he could feel the delicateness of her bones even through the puffy fabric of her damp coat. It reminded him how Head Honcho Wankstain had manhandled her and made him entertain a brief fantasy of cutting the bastard’s bollocks off. “When we make it back to Chicago tomorrow night,” he said, “you can call in an anonymous tip.How does that sound?”
Her expression went fromI hate everything about thistosunshine and rainbows. In fact, the smile she sent him was huge and toothy and so damn hypnotic he had to look away.
“Everyone ready?” Angel slammed the driver’s side door with his elbow. When he was met with a series of nods, he grabbed his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. “All right then.” He headedin the direction of the manor house.
Ace and Rusty fell into step behind him, leaving Christian and Emily to bring up the rear.
“Ladies first.” Christian waved a hand.
“Age before beauty,” she countered, that mischievous glint he loved so well winking at him from her dark eyes.
“I’m hardlythatmuch older than you.” He turned to trail after the others because he knew better thanto fight her.
Emily could be frustratingly stubborn when it came to him. A few times he’d wondered if perhaps, just perhaps, and despite her protestations to the contrary, it was because she had a bit of a thing for him. But that kiss had proved otherwise. She might as well have had a combination lock on her lips for all the encouragement she’d given him.
Heat flew to his face at the memory,and he thanked his lucky stars she’d taken pity on him and hadn’t brought it up since. In fact, she seemed perfectly pleased to pretend it had never happened.
Good. Great. Brilliant.
He was pleased too. Hewas. She’d let him down in the gentlest way possible, and even if it’d caused a rather large fissure to snake across his heart, at least the bloody organ wasn’t broken.
He couldkeep Emily in his life as a coworker, might he even be so bold as to say…afriend? And that would be enough.
Hesworeto himself it would be enough.
“How would you know how old I am?” she asked, dragging his mind back to the conversation. “You been reading my file?”
He knew he’d hit a nerve because her South Side accent had thickened. It was her defense mechanism. When someone or somethinggot too close, she turned up the volume on her blue-collar Bridgeport ’hood girl.
“Indeed not.” He shook his head, determined to fall back into their familiar routine of taunting and slagging…orteasingas the Yanks liked to call it. Because even if that wasn’t all he wanted from her, at least it was something. “But the fact that it would bother you if I did piques my interest. For a womanwho claims to have no secrets, you sure are prickly as a hedgehog about certain aspects of your past.”
