Mitch nodded. “Got it.”
A gauntlet had just been tossed between them. Each working for the good of Liz. Each on the same side. There was no way in hell Drake couldn’t be trusted. But CT was cruel with its leverage and targets. Cruel and manipulative. Anyone might crack under that kind of pressure. Anyone.
“Chopper at six o’clock.” Reese shouted, pointing skyward.
Mitch shaded his eyes and looked to the north. “Tell them to come on in. We’ll be ready in five.”
He motioned Liz to follow him downstairs. Once below, he checked her life preserver, always keeping his eyes on anything but her face.
“That was pretty intense up there,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Surely you trust Drake. I mean—”
“Focus, Liz.” Mitch barely glanced into her eyes. “There’s a reason for everything I do. Your job is to focus and react. You do that, and we all just might survive.”
The kiss on the Q40 had made him realize being close to her was a definite jolt to his system. He didn’t need a repeat, so he looked away. Especially in the heat of an escape maneuver. Especially…Liz. His nostrils flared as he double-checked the straps on the front of her preserver.
“I think I’m pretty well secure, unless you plan to cut off my breathing.” She stretched to her side, evidently trying to get comfortable.
“Got to make sure you don’t drown,” Mitch said.
“Good idea.” She patted the life preserver. “That way you don’t have to haul my sorry ass out of the water again.”
A cold chill charged into his gut. The cut of her words had been hard and fast. And he’d been caught off guard. On the offense, she hadn’t even looked up from his chest. She’d simply stared straight ahead, letting the blow sink in. Even now, she stood perfectly still.
The words had hurt like hell, but he’d survive. Words were just words. Sometimes. Then again, there were times like this when the whole world depended on their significance and tone and purpose. He’d said enough in his lifetime to know the difference.
“Liz, look at my face.”
Slowly, she lifted her chin upward, scanned his face, then turned to the side. “We should—”
“I said look at me.”
Wounded defiance greeted him when she looked into his eyes. He gave her the same eyes-on-me gesture she’d given him at her stateroom door.
She shook her head. “Not funny.”
“Nothing about this case has been funny,” he said, letting himself make an easy excuse for his actions. “And whether you realize it or not, I’d give my life for you.”
“I know. That’s part of your job.”
He braced his fingers beneath her chin then leaned in next to her ear, his cheek brushing hers. “That’s not what I said, E-liz-a-beth.”
She pressed her cheek a little closer against his, and he let the side of his lips slide along her cheekbone as he stepped back. “And, what about my sorry—”
Pressing his fingertips to her lips, he couldn’t believe how deep a pit he kept digging for himself. “Talk like that will get you in trouble.”
A loud bump against the side of the short stairway leading to the cabin caused them both to jerk back and turn in that direction.
“Excuse me,” Reese said from the cabin stairs, his expression one ofwhat the hell are you doing. “Drake wants to talk to us up on deck again.”
How long had he been standing there? Didn’t matter. Mitch knew that pit he was digging had just gotten even deeper.
Mitch tugged on the strap one more time. “I was making sure she had the life preserver hooked up right.”
“That’s exactly what I thought. You’re only looking out for Liz’s best interest.”
