Red slashed across her cheeks as she glared at him. “You’d better start if you like your balls attached.”
“Are you going to kick my ass before or after you pass out? Because you’re shaking like a junkie.”
“It only takes one strike.”
“One you have to land.”
She pursed her lips, took a step, then stopped. She grabbed the sink, nearly toppled, until he caught her, again. He managed to slip the shirt over her head before picking her up—rolling her against his body.
He sighed. “You always were a firecracker. Seems that part hasn’t changed.”
“But I have.”
The words were mumbled against his sweater. So quiet he nearly missed them.
He nodded, heading for the kitchen. He’d promised Ice he’d bring her out, and she could definitely use a once over. Colt wasn’t sure if she’d stay conscious long enough to eat, but he’d try.
He glanced at her as he reached the doorway. “I know you have. And soon, you’re going to have to tell us just how much because this isn’t over until we’ve unearthed the truth. And like it or not, you’re at the center.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Well, crap.
He was alone. Standing at the counter making coffee. Muscles straining beneath a black tee as he moved. It was like watching a symphony. Perfectly orchestrated. Everything in sync. The man was breathtaking.
And Ellis was in deep shit. Her own people hunting her aside, just looking at Brett stole her breath. Made it hard to think clearly. Focus. And she really needed to focus. To figure out why she’d been targeted. How to dig herself out, because if she didn’t come up with a solution, it wasn’t just her life on the line. All of them. Brett’s team—men she’d once vowed to protect. And now, she might be the reason they died.
“Hey.”
She startled, reeling backwards—nearly tumbling onto her ass as her balance shifted. Brett lunged for her and somehow managed to cover the several feet between them before she hit the floor. It shouldn’t have been possible, but there she was. Wrapped in his arms, her legs trembling.
Not from falling. It was him. Holding her. His scent filling her senses, his heartbeat thrumming in time with hers. Faster than usual but strong. Like him.
She was in too deep, already. Four days. That’s all it had taken to strip her of her resolve. The defenses she’d built over the past five years. The ones that had closed her off emotionally—the only way she’d been able to function with all the losses.
His loss.
Friends she could live without. Brett…
She swallowed then eased back. He stared down at her, blue eyes searching hers. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he gave her a fairly convincing fake smile then let her go, turning back toward the counter.
“You should be resting. The others won’t be back for a while. We can discuss the situation, then. But if you keep pushing, you’re going to give yourself that concussion I mentioned yesterday.”
“I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got here.”
“Getting shot tends to take it out of you.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Being tortured, even more so.”
There it was. The dig at her profession. The one she hadn’t talked about, yet. But, she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she was getting around telling him at least some of what he wanted to know.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Obviously, there’s stuff we need to discuss beyond my sudden reappearance, so…” She took a deep breath. Prayed this wasn’t a colossal mistake. “If there’s something you want to say, Brett, maybe without everyone else listening, just say it.”
He clenched his jaw then nodded, spinning to face her. “Are you CIA?” He snorted. “Of course, you are. It’s the only answer that makes sense, but… I want to hear you say it.”
That look. Cold. Hard. Lethal. He wasn’t hiding his emotions, now, and she couldn’t stop the involuntary step backwards. The instinct to run.
Brett arched a brow.
She forced herself to stand her ground. Meet his gaze. She’d thought he’d wait until his buddies were back to bring this up, but apparently everything was interconnected. Not that it should surprise her. It always came back to this. To the Agency. “I work for the State Department?—”
