Rachel smiled against his jaw. Her lips brushed his stubble. "Good. I want to give you what you gave me."
Ghost's lungs seized. His hand came up, cupping her face, stopping her. "Not right now." His voice dropped lower. "This isn't about me."
His thumb traced her cheekbone. "I want you in my life. And if I have my way, there'll be plenty of chances for you to return the favor." His mouth pulled to one side. "But you'll always come first."
He kissed her, slow, deep. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. She kissed him back like she meant it, like she was choosing him.
When they broke apart, Ghost's heart was pounding. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard. "You are very addictive, Ms. Parker."
Rachel laughed, soft and breathless.
Ghost exhaled hard. His hand slid down her back one more time before he forced himself to step away. "We need to get cleaned up. And I need to get you out of here."
The haze cleared from Rachel's eyes. She nodded.
Ghost's brain was already running scenarios, threat level, extraction routes, safe locations. But part of him was still back there, still feeling her pulse under his fingers, still tasting her.
He reached for the straps of her nightgown at her waist, drawing them back up over her shoulders. The silk slid against her skin. His knuckles brushed the side of her breast and he felt her breath catch. He forced himself to step back.
Rachel slid off the counter and headed for the closet.
Ghost pulled his fatigues back on. Tucked in his shirt. Fastened his pants. He grabbed his sidearm from the counter, checked the chamber, and holstered it. His body moved through the motions while his brain replayed the sound of her moaning his name.
"Oh no." Rachel's voice cut through, frustration clear.
Ghost was through the doorway before she finished speaking. "What?"
"I don't think there's much in here I can wear."
The closet looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothes shredded with knives. Hangers bent and snapped. Drawers emptied and contents scattered. Someone had methodically destroyed everything she owned.
Ghost's jaw clenched so hard his molars ached. This was deliberate. Meant to violate her, strip away her sense of safety.
He crouched beside her and pulled a pair of denim shorts and a fitted T-shirt from the wreckage. "Here."
She took them. Her hands were shaking.
Ghost caught her chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying. "We'll get you new clothes, Rachel. You're not alone in this."
Rachel shook her head. "No. I couldn't possibly let you do that."
"Let me take care of you, baby."
Rachel's mouth opened to argue. "There's no way I could ask you to—"
Ghost kissed her. Hard and fast, cutting off her protest. When he pulled back, his hand slid to her jaw. "I'll just have to convince you later. Right now, you need to get dressed."
Rachel stared at him for a second, then nodded.
She stripped the nightgown off right there. Ghost stayed close, eyes sweeping the room even as his peripheral vision tracked her pulling on the shorts, tugging the shirt over her head. He was cataloging exits, sight lines, potential threats.
CRACK.
Glass exploded inward. A bullet punched into the far wall, plaster spraying.
Ghost grabbed Rachel. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her down as another window shattered. Shards rained down on his back. He covered her completely, his body a shield.
"Down!" He hauled her into the living room.
