Just…quieted.
It was enough to scare him more than any cartel round or canked op.
There was a sharp knock, and her amusement disappeared as they both looked toward the door. One of the constables, Tyler, stood there. He was frowning, and Breakneck had to wonder how long he’d been standing there. His cornflower blue eyes met Breakneck’s, and there was challenge there, not threat but competition, then softness when he looked at Blair.
Oh, that was the lay of the land. Tyler had a thing for her.
He immediately didn’t like it.
“Yes?” Blair asked.
“The DEA guys are here. I still can’t get a hold of Darrow. He’s not answering his phone.”
“Okay, put the DEA in the conference room. We’re not waiting for Darrow.” Her voice went hard and Breakneck figured there was some animosity there. Why she didn’t know about his undercover op was baffling, especially for a 2IC, second in command. Ice would never leave Preacher in the dark. Those kinds of decisions got people killed.
She used the basin to rinse out the blood, turning the water pink when she squeezed it out. When Tyler didn’t move, she looked back at him. “I’ll be another ten minutes.” Her voice went a little clipped.
So, the feeling wasn’t mutual, and Blair didn’t like the way he hovered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then left.
She focused on his hands. Picking one of them up, she washed it clean, careful over his bruised and ragged knuckles. He took advantage of the moment, allowing his fingertips to skim over her wrist and palm every chance he got. She didn’t linger on his other hand.
She partially rose, leaning over him to get some supplies. The scent of her was a mixture of magnolia, horse, leather, and something so sweet he wanted to taste it on his tongue.
He hissed in a breath and endured the stinging cotton gauze soaked with antiseptic on the cuts to his face, shoulders, torso, and hands. She set some butterflies on the gash at his temple, and one on the skin just above his collarbone.
“That should do it,” she whispered, rising. She reached for a black T-shirt with the division insignia on the left-hand side, a stylized head of a stallion, and a maple leaf with WILD in gold letters underneath it.
“I’ve got to go get set up for this conference. Help yourself to the break room. There’s coffee and maybe a donut or two, unless Beef has been there.” She stopped at the doorway. Her face softened, those lips parting. “Thank you for saving my life and the lives of everyone here, keeping a shipment from the cartel, and risking your life in the process.” She took a hard breath. “The way you handled yourself. I’ve never seen anything like it. The RCMP is in your debt.”
“You, Blair? What about you?” He hated that he was asking but felt powerless.
She gripped the door frame as if needing support. “Let’s keep this professional,” she whispered, moved, then stopped. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something that might just kill him, thought better of it, murmuring, “I’ll see you up there.”
She disappeared, but her presence lingered in the room where he’d met the kind of woman who brought a man to his knees without even trying.
The second he’d had her pinned beneath him, that soft, warm body tucked under his, when he’d lifted his head and stared into those kaleidoscope eyes.
He didn’t stand a chance.
When he came out of the room, Kodiak was walking toward him. He tried to wave him off, but the man laughed softly. “No way, kid. Pull up the shirt.”
Breakneck sighed and complied because their medic was a persistent bastard when it came to his teammates.
“Fuck.” He gently touched Breakneck’s lower abdomen, palpitated it, and Breakneck grunted at the pain, then Kodiak moved around to his lower back. “You experiencing any pain?”
Only around Blair. That thought slipped out. He looked down at the mottled bruises, then gave his teammate a wry look. “You might want to clarify that.”
Kodiak chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m talking about sharp or dull internal pain, not muscular or skin type.”
“No.”
“You’ll probably be pissing blood for a bit. If that persists?—”
“I know the drill. I’ll tell you if my boo boos act up.”
Iceman walked up. “He good for duty?”
