Page 50 of Until the End

And fleeting.

He stilled, his muscles locking, his body turning to steel. There was no answering pressure from his lips, no hot, silken stroke of his tongue in return.

Gripping her arms, he eased her away, unfusing their lips, and shook his head. “No.”

“What?” Had she misread him, the moment? Made a complete fool of herself?

“This can’t happen.”

Something inside her wilted. “Why not?”

“You’re a POI. This is my assignment.” The icy veneer she was starting to hate fell over him. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

It was such a searing statement that her gut burned. “Well, that’s lovely imagery. I never would’ve guessed you were so poetic.” The crushing blow to her pride was more severe than she expected and she almost gagged on the dry lump of embarrassment stuck in her throat.

“I can imagine how rough things have been for you,” he said. “I was trying to be helpful.”

Helpful. An instinctive wince slipped out of her. She’d mistaken pity for passion. Idiot. Flaming idiot.

Of course, Castle wanted her…to help him, to hand over the information on the drives, to recover Z-1984 before there was an attack. He just didn’t want her.

Icky, awkward silence settled between them. She’d give anything to dissolve underneath the covers into a puddle of humiliation. What was she thinking, anyway? He was the embodiment of everything she stood against, the epitome of what she despised about the government, with their ubiquitous mass surveillance that was the enemy of democracy and freedom. Hell, she didn’t even like him.

Much.

Okay, not very much.

It was one of those like–hate things. But wanting him would be such a gross error in good judgment, and sleeping with him…well, she was as uninterested in the idea as him. They were from two different worlds. He was the opposite of the type of men who buzzed around her. Pretty-faced Jaspers, inclined to brag about the size of their brains instead of their cocks, with mediocre bedroom skills and grandiose plans to torpedo her life.

The enormity of everything that had happened hit her, sinking in deep. She’d never see the Outliers again. Get to hug them. Tell them how much they meant to her.

Emotions tangled like a knotted ball of yarn around her heart.

Castle grasped her chin with the tips of his thumb and forefinger, raising her head, and their gazes collided. There was something primal and raw in his eyes.

It’s just pity, she told herself, but her thighs tingled nonetheless.

The sick truth was she’d never been so powerfully aware of a man. Inextricably drawn, caught up in a gravitational pull that defied reason.

She’d always flaunted her inherent sensuality and never found sex shameful. Flipping the off switch now was impossible when he kept touching her and staring at her that way. And without his shirt on, for crying out loud. Who knew two hundred fifty pounds of ripped muscle could be so mouthwateringly hot?

With the quickness of a shifting breeze, his expression changed. He dropped his hand from her face and stood, stepping away from the bed. “Think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

Not a snowball’s chance in hell. She’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, thinking, remembering, praying that freaky shadow creature didn’t creep back into her dreams.

Goose bumps chased down her arms. “I doubt it.”

“Then we need to go get the three hard drives,” he said, his tone growing harsh, his whole posture now on edge. “Your clothes are dry. Get dressed.”

Coddle time was over. Rough, rude Castle was back, straight to business. Good. She knew precisely how to resist this one, as opposed to Mr. Shirtless, Sexy, and Sensitive.

At the Gray Box, it had seemed as though he cared about her as a person and his desire to help her exceeded duty. Here, she was nothing more than a person of interest, a means to do his job. Everyone always wanted something from her. No one ever wanted only her, no strings attached.

She needed to stick to her plan. Run. Go to Romania and send him the information to stop Bravo once she was safe.

The only person she could depend on was herself. “Sure. Let’s go.”

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