"No." Firmer this time.
Rachel's pulse kicked. "There are civilians out there. People dying. If no one's there to show it—"
"This isn't a debate." He kept his eyes forward, checking his rifle. "It's a war zone, not a documentary set."
Across the room, Torch paused mid-check on his gear. Rogue's head turned slightly, tracking the exchange.
Ghost stepped closer, rifle already slung, jaw set. "You're not trained for this."
Rachel opened her mouth to argue but his voice cut through.
"You're not armed. You're a civilian. That makes you a target the second we roll out." His tone was pure command, but there was an edge underneath, something tighter.
She heard it. "I can take care of myself."
He closed the distance between them until only a foot separated them. The team had gone quiet around them, pretending not to listen. "No, you can't." His voice dropped lower. "And I won't have one of my men get shot because they had to pull you out of the line of fire."
The words landed hard. Rachel could've backed down, should have, probably, but instead she held her ground. "You want me to sithere while people die?"
"Yes." His jaw was locked tight. "That's exactly what I want."
"And that's our cue!" Torch called out from across the room. "Let's move, boys."
Chairs scraped. The team grabbed their gear and filed out in seconds, Rogue shooting Ghost a look on his way past that said good luck with that. The door slammed shut behind them.
Silence dropped over the room like a weight.
Ghost and Rachel stood three feet apart, the space between them charged with everything they hadn't said. Everything they'd been dancing around since that bathroom.
Rachel's heart was pounding. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was stopping himself from reaching for her.
"You don't get to control me," she said, voice steady despite her pulse racing. "If that's your plan, you're gonna have to tie me down."
Ghost went very still. His eyes locked on hers, pupils dilating. He took one step forward, then another, closing the distance until she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. His voice came out lowand rough. "Careful, Rachel. Keep talking like that and I might take you up on it."
Heat flooded through her. This wasn't a game anymore. The way he was looking at her, like he was two seconds from backing her against the wall and showing her exactly what he meant, made her breath catch.
She should step back. Should defuse this. Instead she lifted her chin. "Maybe I want you to."
Ghost's hand came up, fingers curling around her jaw, tilting her face up toward his. His thumb brushed across her lower lip, rough and deliberate. "You have no idea what you're asking for."
Rachel's lips parted. "Then show me."
For one suspended heartbeat, she thought he was going to kiss her. His head dipped slightly, his breath warm against her mouth. His other hand found her hip, fingers spreading across her waist.
"Ghost!" Torch's voice bellowed from outside. "We're rolling in sixty seconds!"
Ghost’s eyes closed. His forehead dropped to rest against hers for just a second, his breathing ragged, then he stepped back, releasing her.
The heat in his eyes hadn't dimmed, but the soldier was back in control. "Stay here," he said, voice low. "Lock the door and don't open it for anyone but me."
Rachel's chest was heaving. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
Ghost grabbed his helmet and rifle, moving toward the door. He paused at the threshold, looking back at her one last time. "We're not done with this conversation."
Then he was gone.
Rachel stood frozen in the empty room, her fingers digging into her camera strap. Her pulse was still hammering from how close he'd been, from the way he'd touched her face, from the promise in his voice.
