Page 37 of Extracted

She fit her arms through the black shirt, tugging it over the one she already wore. Dallas’s scent encircled her, and she took a deep, long inhale of cedar and woods. Oh, dear lord. If wearing his clothes gave her this much comfort, lying with the guy would be next level.

Dallas’s footsteps gently shook the floor. His presence closed in on her personal space, making her body sing to attention. “Tired?”

She nodded as he moved closer. Her shoulder touched his ribs. “Exhausted,” she said, clearing her throat. “But probably too wound up to sleep.”

He knelt and felt the mattress then snapped off the pump and plugged the rubber stopper. “Same. It’s barely 9:00 p.m., and we won’t want to leave before there’s daylight. So I’m not in a huge rush to get to sleep.”

She took the few steps toward the mattress then crawled onto the cushy space. “I’m good with just lying in bed for twelve hours.”

He snorted then stood and packed away the pump. “There was only one pillow in the trunk.” He threw it on the bed next to her.

He shook out one of the wool blankets, and she picked up the end and tucked it around the corners of the mattress. Then he passed her the other one, and she spread it over top of her.

He’d shut off the second lantern, which was still near the front of the plane from when he secured the windows, so only one burned from the trunk.

Dallas lowered himself to the end of the bed and stretched out his legs. “Ah, my calf muscles are throbbing.”

“Mmm.” She didn’t want to think about every ache and pain crippling her muscles. Nor did she want to acknowledge the clenching in her core. To accept how much she wanted Dallas inside her.

“Not sure what you want to do . . .” he said, tilting his head to stare at her.

She wriggled her feet out from the blanket. “Someone promised someone a foot rub, but I’m not going to name names.”

Dallas settled on his side, his head propped up on his fist. He didn’t reach for her feet, and embarrassment touched her neck. “I was just kidding,” she said.

His eyes bore into hers. “This is the first time we’ve really been together and not had sex.”

The night’s young. She clamped down on the wishful voice in her head. “I guess you’re right. We don’t normally chitchat too much.”

The events of the day had washed away their exchange at her hotel the previous night, before she’d been attacked. Things had been tense, and he hadn’t wanted to divulge any secrets about himself. Nor had he shared the details of the job he was involved in—and he’d been more than irritated that she hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to leave the country with him then.

If she had, she wouldn’t have the bullet graze on her leg, which squealed with annoyance at her every move.

“Maybe we should.”

The heaviness in his tone made a ball of anxiety form in her gut. “Okay,” she drawled. “But why the change of heart? You didn’t want to share anything with me last night.”

“Yeah, and now our situation has changed and perhaps the more we know about each other, the better our odds of getting out of here are.”

She balled her hand into a fist as nervousness closed in around her. “That makes sense.”

“I mean, we’ve really only had a physical relationship.”

She smiled. “Why mess with a good thing?”

“You mean booty calls once a year?” he countered with lightning speed. Disdain clung to his words, but his boyish grin softened the blow.

“Didn’t seem to bother you until now.”

“Because running into you in Colombia while I’m in the middle of a job is pretty damn alarming.” His words fell between them. Of all the images she’d had brewing in her mind of how tonight would go with Dallas, this wasn’t one of them.

He let out a rumbling groan and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m going about this all wrong. I’d like to know more about you—whatever you feel comfortable sharing. I don’t want anything serious relationship-wise either, so don’t think that’s what I’m doing here. But since men have been trying to kill you—now us—for the last twenty-four hours, I’d like to know who else could be behind this, if not the CIA.”

“Okay,” she said, more carefully. “I’d feel more comfortable if you answered questions about yourself, too.”

“Great.” He slapped the blanket. “Shoot.”

She rolled onto her side so she could see him better, bending at the waist and lying in an L shape so her legs remained straight in front of her. “You mentioned you were supposed to meet with Silas Hawke. What for?”

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