A series of images flashed through him rife with desire or yearning. First, her collarbones. Were they gently curved or sharp? Did they protrude or were they camouflaged under a layer of her flesh? Not her breasts or the place between her thighs. A freaking bone. The next image was almost worse—it was her across a table from him, eating a meal. Spaghetti or something. Drinking wine. Smiling, enjoying herself. The need to be there hit him as hard as a blow to the chest, but the last image was the worst. It was the two of them, walking hand in hand. Her fingers entwined with his, warm and strong, his hold on her solid, sure.
Shit, he’d lost it entirely. Not good. He had to keep it together to get them out of this alive.
Clearing his throat, he got up, grabbed the sleeping bag he’d been sitting on, and shoved it into the pack, avoiding her entirely.
“Should split up.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Two targets are harder to locate.”
“Elias.”
“You go southeast, head to Canada, to safety.”
“Elias.”
“I’ll create a diversion so they—”
“Dude! Do I stink or something?”
“No.” Most definitely not.
“Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
He didn’t respond or look at her. He couldn’t. Her company was too much. Too close. Too personal. He was thinking things he had no right to think, fantasizing in a way that he shouldn’t. He needed space. “Not trying to—”
“You’re not alone anymore, Elias. Don’t you get that? I believe you. I know you’re not the man the world thinks you are. You can talk to me. You can trust me. If we could just reach out to my team, Ans and Von would turn around and come right back here.”
He thought her first touch was an accident—like their knees brushing down below. But when she didn’t let go of his arm, he had to admit it was purposeful. He shook it off and turned, only there she was again, looking up at him like she gave a shit. “Elias.”
He shut his eyes against that name. Nobody called him that anymore. Nobody called him anything, unless he counted Bo’sfeed mebark.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m with you. I won’t let you fight this on your own anymore.”
She drew close, sending every cell in his body on high alert. Would she kiss him this time? Melt him down until he was just another puddle in this soggy place? He didn’t have the courage to turn away. Didn’t want to.
“We’re on the same team, Elias.” One of her arms curved around his back, slowly securing him. The other did the same, drawing him in and down. He was nothing but flesh now, a bundle of nerves and a heavy mass of want, ready for another life-giving shock from her lightning-bolt lips.
Only she didn’t do it. She did something so much better. So much worse.
She said his name again, reminding him that it really washis. And she hugged him, tighter than he’d have thought possible.
Standing there in the damp, noisy forest, Elias Thorne came closer than he ever had to crumbling.
Chapter 23
Aw, hell.
She hadn’t meant to hug this guy. Just like with the kiss, she had only intended to bolster him, buck him up with some reassurance that he wasn’t alone. A friendly smack on the back. A wink, maybe.
Not this close, warm, solid thing; a connection that was more basic than anything she’d ever felt. Not like that belly nuzzle, with its million complications. This felt like she knew him on a cellular level. Like they’d found each other, two parts of a whole, puzzle pieces coming together when they’d been kept too long apart.
He bent his legs and dipped his head, bringing his mouth to her ear—no, just below it—where he burrowed in, nose pushing aside cloth, breath heating her skin…and held her.
Who’s hugging who now?
Who needed it most?
She might have instigated this, but she hadn’t bargained on the…power couldn’t be the right word, could it? Thepowerof holding, being held, hugging, sharing.
“A lot,” he whispered, though she wasn’t sure she caught the right words.
