"We wait," Blake cut in, his tone sharp but his touch gentle. "Guardian is already moving. They'll feed information into the right channels, slow down Zajac's play. We just need time."
Her laugh was brittle. "Time is the one thing I don't have on my side. The more time he has to plant evidence, the better for him, not me."
Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees but keeping one hand on her thigh, the casual possessiveness of the gesture sending heat spiraling through her. Firelight carved shadows across his face, emphasizing the hard set of his jaw, the sensual curve of his mouth. "Then we plan for both outcomes. Guardian clears you, or they don't. If they don't, I'll get you out of Hungary. You'll disappear."
The word"disappear"sent a shiver over her skin that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way he was looking at her, as if she were something precious he'd kill to protect. "You make it sound so simple. New name, new life. I wouldn't even recognize myself anymore."
"You'd still be you," he said firmly, his hand sliding higher on her thigh, the touch burning through her jeans. "They can strip your name, your credentials, but not your fire. That's yours. Zajac can't take that."
She lifted her gaze, meeting his, and was lost in the warmth of his conviction and the heat in his dark eyes. The intensity of his stare made her feel exposed, desired, cherished, and beneath it all, she saw something personal and fierce and hungry.
She nodded slowly, forcing herself to think like the reporter she was, even as her body hummed with awareness of his touch. "Then I'll need to keep gathering facts. Is there a way I can work with Guardian? If Zajac's people are framing me, there has to be a trail."
"They have the best people in the world on this project." Blake's mouth curved, a ghost of a smile that made her pulse skip. "That's the fight I need them focused on. I'll take care of everything else."
"What else is there?" Confusion swamped her, though she was distracted by the way his smile made her want to trace his lips with her fingertips. "Them finding a way to disprove the video and the police report is the biggest issue."
"No. It isn't. There’s something else. Something I can't share, but it will make your life easier. I promise you." The way he said it, so absolute, so protective, made her chest tighten with something that wasn't fear. She wasn't used to leaning on anyone, but Blake was different. He was both shield and sword, promising protection with a certainty she could believe in and a sensuality that made her want to surrender completely.
She opened her mouth to ask the next question, to dig into how far Guardian's reach extended, when a sound broke through the quiet.
The low, steady growl of an engine. Tires crunching on gravel.
Elise froze, her pulse leaping into her throat, but Blake's hand tightened on her thigh, steadying her. The cottage was secluded, tucked at the end of a long, twisting drive no one should stumble onto by accident.
Blake's eyes flicked to hers, and the warmth in his expression didn't vanish. If anything, it intensified, promising that whatever came next, he would handle it. "It's all right. A friend of mine is bringing us some groceries."
But the way he said it, the way his body had subtly shifted to shield her, told Elise that even grocery deliveries in Blake's world required the kind of vigilance that came with deadly skills and the kind of protection that came with something far more dangerous than professional duty.
CHAPTER 13
The sound of the vehicle outside snapped Blake’s head up. After quickly reassuring Elise that it was just a friend, he stood and went to the door. CCS had notified him Rook was nearing his location about ten minutes ago, but with Elise in his arms, struggling to regain her composure, he hadn’t wanted to bring up the fact they were about to have company. The car eased to a stop in the shadows at the edge of the drive, headlights cutting out, engine ticking down. Twilight came early this time of year, making this time of day dangerous. Not day, yet not dark. The time of transition that could hide you one moment and highlight you the next.
He stepped outside into the cool Hungarian air, the scent of damp leaves and woodsmoke riding the breeze. A man unfolded from the driver’s seat, and even in the dim porch light, Blake caught the unsteady sway.
“Jesus, Rook.” He sprinted toward the car.
His friend’s grin was more grimace than humor. “What? Thought I’d stop by with dinner.”
Rook barely made it three steps before he pitched forward. Blake caught him, and the heat radiating off the man told himmore than the pallor did. Sweat slicked his forehead despite the chill.
“You idiot,” Blake muttered, half-dragging him toward the cottage. “You’re burning up.”
“Eh. Bullet grazed me. Stings like a motherfucking bitch, but I’ve had worse.”
Blake snorted. “A graze doesn’t make you look like a drunken sailor on a three-day pass.”
Inside, he guided Rook into the kitchen, and Elise’s eyes widened as Blake lowered him into a chair. “What happened?” she whispered, already moving for a glass of water.
“Stay close. I’ll need your hands,” Blake said as he tugged Rook’s coat and bulky hoodie off. The fabric peeled away, sticking to the crude stitches that had split open. Blood had dried in jagged rivulets across Rook’s ribs. Blake felt his jaw tighten. “Hell, Rook. You stitched yourself on a plane?”
Rook tried for swagger but failed. “Flight was long. I was bored, and the old lady next to me fell asleep, so there was no company.”
“Yeah, nothing screams in-flight entertainment like needle and thread in your gut. Don’t move, and don’t fucking say a word.” Blake bolted upstairs for the medical kit he’d kept stashed in his suitcase, years of habit paying off. He was downstairs within twenty seconds. The snap of plastic clasps sounded loud in the tense kitchen.
Rook squinted at him. “What happened to bedside manner? I was expecting sympathy. Maybe a sponge bath or at least an introduction.”
Blake shot him a look as he cut away the clumsy sutures. “From me? You’re delirious.”
