Page 68 of Extracted

“I spoke to Silas,” he said flatly.

Her eyes bugged out, and she covered her mouth with her fingers. “Can he trace your phone?”

He shook his head. “No, don’t worry. We’re safe for now. Turns out I don’t think he knows who you’re with . . . that you’re with me. He said he was after a female bomber and two men—I’m assuming that’s Eli and me, but he maybe hasn’t gotten word of Eli’s death yet, or my identity.” He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand because he couldn’t not stroke her skin, dammit. “That means I don’t have a hit on my head. Silas wants to meet me. He’s coming to Ecuador to finish our transaction.”

Her brow puckered. “How do you know he’s not playing you?”

“I don’t. But you need to understand that he’s not going to stop searching for you. He made it clear that finding the bomber is his priority right now.” Dallas rocked his jaw. Part of him wanted to shake Gemma. To just grab her and throw her in the car and refuse to let her return to the CIA.

But what right did he have?

None whatsoever.

She pushed a shaky hand through her hair. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me. I mean, surely he’ll have to move on when he can’t find me. Once I’m with the CIA they’ll have me stationed somewhere else and Silas will be old news.”

“You still think they’re going to protect you?”

“Well, to some degree, yeah. They need me, otherwise Charlene wouldn’t have cut the deal.”

Words pushed forth from his throat. He wanted to stop them at his lips but didn’t. “You’re safer with me.”

Her gaze softened. Slowly, she pressed her body against his chest, her hands curled by her face. He wrapped his arms around her and tucked his head into her sweet-smelling hair.

Raspberries and lemon. He hadn’t been able to get the scent out of his head from day one. It haunted him whenever she was away and taunted him whenever he was with her. A constant reminder that she was here one moment and gone the next. Maybe he needed to accept that he wasn’t meant to have a female in his life permanently.

It was for the best.

But this—Gemma leaving—it sure as shit didn’t feel like anything good would come from it. His mind worked a mile a minute. If he was going to convince her, now was the time. Once they got in the car, once she got close to supposed safety, there’d be no turning back.

“Please, Gemma.” It was all he could muster. The plea made his throat ache. It was so foreign for him to beg. To put his heart on the fucking line. Yet here he was.

And the worst part was, it wouldn’t even matter.

She made a little noise against his shirt and turned her head to press her cheek to his sternum. “God, I want to, Dallas.”

“Then do it. Come with me.”

“Silas—”

“I’ll protect you. He won’t know you’re with me.”

She gave her head a little shake. “He’s not stupid. He has so many men with him at all times. If he finds out you’re hiding me, even after your meeting, he’ll kill us both. I can’t let that happen.”

He pulled her head away, holding the nape of her neck with both palms. “You think you’re protecting me by leaving.” It wasn’t a question.

Her hands wiggled out from between them and pressed against his sides. “I can get us both out. Forget Silas. This whole mission. Go home and I’ll meet you there soon.”

No, no, no. Fuck no. “I’m not bailing while you risk your neck to appease those fuckers just to keep me safe. Not happening, honey.” He couldn’t hide the revulsion in his tone. Just the idea of running home while she got shipped off somewhere else, to save his ass, was a pill he couldn’t swallow.

Despair clouded her eyes. “Then I guess we part here.”

Before he could move away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as if she’d never let go.

He stayed stiff, his body unwilling to fold, even to comfort her. Anger vibrated every atom in his body, but it wasn’t Gemma’s fault. Not entirely.

It was his.

There was only one thing he could do to protect her now. Only problem was, it was a suicide mission.

---