“After the pills they gave me, I don’t feel much of anything. I’m sure I won’t be so lucky in the morning.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me what happened?”
Edge smiled and sat down on the side of the bed. “You first.”
For the first time that night, Skye relaxed. Edge was here. He was safe, and so was she. Everything was going to be all right.
Skye told him about Conn and Trace showing up at Petrov’s mansion and how just before they got there, Petrov had brought in more men.
“We bested him twice,” she said. “This time he wasn’t taking any chances.”
Edge leaned over where she lay on the bed and lightly kissed her. “And yet here you are.”
She swallowed, thinking of the firefight, remembering her fear. “Morgan Burke showed up with a helicopter. He did an amazing job of flying us out of there under a barrage of gunfire.”
“I didn’t know he was coming until the last minute. Conn wanted someone they could trust at the controls of the chopper. Trace and Conn both trust him. Now I do, too.”
Burke was a good pilot. She could still recall the gunfire that pinged off the skids as Burke got the bird in the air.
Skye looked up. “I shot Petrov, Edge. He was waiting outside for me. I think he knew I would run. He didn’t know I was armed. He pulled a gun, and I shot him, but I don’t think I killed him.”
“Petrov fired on a couple of DEA agents. Not a good move. Agent Cross got a call just before we wrapped up. Petrov didn’t make it.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t sure what she felt beyond relief. “So it’s over.”
“Yeah. And I don’t think the fact you put a bullet in the rotten prick will be a problem. Too much paperwork. As far as they’re concerned, you weren’t there. The feds like to keep things simple.”
Skye looked up at him and drew back the covers. “Why don’t you get undressed and climb in? You must be exhausted.”
“I am, but . . .”
“But . . . ?”
“It’s kind of like that fight we were in at the Buckhorn saloon. I’m exhausted, but I’m revved. You’re alive, and so am I. We brought Petrov down, just like we set out to do. I want you, baby. So much I ache with it. But I don’t want to hurt you. If I get in bed with you, I won’t be able to sleep.”
Desire curled through her. She wanted him, too, just as she had after the fight in the saloon.
“Maybe you could just be a little bit careful.”
His blue eyes darkened. “You know your brother, Trace, and Burke are in the living room.”
Reality dimmed her arousal. “True.” An idea struck. “Why don’t I make love to you this time?”
He closed his eyes as if he were in pain. “Jesus, baby.”
“Take off your clothes.”
Edge hesitated a moment, then stripped off his shirt and tossed it away. Skye’s gaze ran over the beautiful, sculpted muscles on his chest, down his six-pack abs, and her body turned liquid and warm. They both needed this. Anything could have happened. Both of them could be dead. Instead, they were here, full of life and overflowing with passion.
She moved to make room for him on the mattress. As soon as he was settled, she leaned over and kissed him. She felt his hands sliding down her back, cupping her bottom, and hot need rose inside her. She made love to him slowly, trailing kisses over his spectacular body, down his flat belly, moving lower, giving him pleasure until he groaned low in his throat and lifted her astride him.
Moving quietly, she gave him what he needed and took what she wanted.
Afterward, she nestled against his side, Edge being careful not to hurt her bandaged arm. Her leg throbbed a little from all the exertion, but the pills worked their magic, and she fell deeply asleep.
When she awakened, Edge was gone.
* * *
Edge looked up as Skye walked into the living room. It was late in the morning, all of them recovering from a long, rough night. Skye’s arm was bandaged, but there was color in her cheeks, and her smile looked soft and sexy. His body stirred, and he glanced away, afraid he’d get hard and embarrass himself.
