Page 38 of Extracted

A muscle in Dallas’s jaw ticked. “You had that one ready.”

She shrugged. “You wanted to do this.”

“All right.” His hand moved under the blanket and he grabbed her foot. His fingers moved, squeezing and kneading her flesh.

“Ah, god.” She couldn’t have stopped the moan of pleasure if she’d tried. “You don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. How’s your leg, by the way?”

She scrunched up her face. “I really don’t want to think about it. It’s sore but okay.”

“Mmm. We’d better have a look before we crash.”

She waved her hand at him. “You were about to tell me about you and Silas.”

“Yeah, that.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “Whatever I tell you needs to stay between the two of us. Got it?”

Part of her wanted to kick him, but no way she’d tear her foot away from the massage melting away her tension. “Duh.” She rolled her eyes, and he gently squeezed her toes.

“I’m a mercenary.”

She froze. His hand moved on her foot more earnestly, as if he were nervous about her reaction. She swallowed over his words. “What exactly does that mean?”

An image of him murdering innocent people flashed through her mind, but he’d been too aghast at the thought of her planting the bomb for that to be the case.

“It means I’m a . . . man for hire, I guess. I don’t work for anyone in particular, but various organizations contract me out.”

“That sounds awfully nebulous.”

He laughed, and the dimple that flashed at the corner of his mouth did all kinds of stuff to her insides. For someone so dangerous, he oozed sex appeal. “I’ve done rescue missions, getting people out of war-torn countries. I’ve also delivered criminals, weapons, or other dangerous goods.”

“So what were you working on this time?”

“What do you know about Silas?” he countered.

“All they told me was he’s a bad man and has killed thousands of innocent people.”

“That’s somewhat true.”

She hiked up an eyebrow. “What else?”

“Silas is aiding a socialist militia group in Venezuela, arming them with guns.”

Her eyes bugged out. “So—”

“So I’m going to suspect that’s why the CIA took him out.”

She chewed the corner of her lip. “How did you get involved?”

He stretched his neck then rested his head back on his fist. “Well, I was the middleman for that exchange.”

“You’re helping guns get into Venezuela?”

“I’m merely the messenger. The militia leader in Venezuela hired me to mediate the deal.”

“And now Silas is dead.”

Dallas’s gaze turned dark and brooding. “Yeah.”

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