Page 7 of Tempting Alec

Grier’s heart sank at his response, but she didn’t push further. This wasn’t the time for personal revelations or confrontations. They were still in danger, still being hunted, and they needed to stay focused if they wanted to survive.

As they drove through the dark, empty streets, Grier felt a strange mixture of fear and excitement, the same conflicting emotions she had felt that night in Chicago. Alec McKennon was a man who commanded her attention, who drew her in despite the danger, despite the fear. And now, once again, she was in his hands, trusting him with her life.

But this time, the stakes were higher. This time, there was no room for mistakes, no room for hesitation. Grier knew that if they were going to survive, she had to trust him completely. And that was the scariest thing of all.

They drove in silence, the tension thick in the air. Grier’s mind raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, trying to figure out what their next move would be. But all she could think about was Alec, the man who had saved her life, the man who had once brought her such incredible pleasure.

The man from whom she had run.

Now, there was no running. Now, there was only the fight for survival, and Alec McKennon was her only ally in that fight.

The car sped into the night, leaving the burning remains of the safe house far behind. But Grier knew that the danger wasn’t over, not by a long shot. And as she glanced at Alec, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her life had just taken a turn she could never have anticipated.

Chapter 4

Alec

Alec gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white against the leather as he maneuvered the car through the labyrinthine back alleys of Moscow. The city loomed dark and imposing around them, the streets slick with rain and lined with towering, crumbling buildings that seemed to close in on them with every turn. The engine growled as he pushed the car faster, navigating the narrow roads with a precision born from years of experience. His senses were on high alert, every nerve in his body tuned to the possibility of pursuit.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, his sharp blue eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. Nothing. Yet the uneasy feeling gnawed at him, a sensation he had learned long ago not to ignore. The attack on the safe house had been swift and brutal, and it was only by sheer luck and his honed instincts that they had escaped. Now, they were on the run, with no clear destination, only the immediate need to stay alive.

It had been meant to be a simple extraction—go in, get the girl, and get out. No fuss, no muss, but as he’d approached the safe house, he’d seen what he assumed to be FSB agents moving towards the house. Somehow, they must have gotten wind of Grier’s being there. How the hell had that happened?

He’d been tasked with extracting one of the CIA’s encryption analysts from a CIA safehouse in Moscow. If the FSB knew she was there and where the safehouse was located, Alec had to wonder why she was there at all and more importantly, who had tipped the FSB off? The whole thing seemed a little wonky to him.

When the attack had started, Alec had set some countermeasures and rushed to get the woman to safety. He’d been given her name and her picture to ensure he was getting the right person. When Kingston Coltraine, the head of Cerberus operations in Chicago, had handed him the file and he’d opened it, it had been like a punch to the gut. It was her. It was G—the woman who had haunted his dreams for months. They’d had an intense session and Alec had thought they’d really connected. He’d allowed himself, for that all-too-brief session, to imagine the possibilities. Only she’d shut them down by slipping away like a thief in the night.

Alec glanced at Grier as she sat beside him—her body posture rigid, her hands clutching her laptop, the glow of the city’s sporadic streetlights casting her features in sharp relief. She looked more like a scared rabbit than a CIA analyst, and the frustration that had been simmering in Alec’s gut since they fled the safe house flared up again. He didn’t know what the hell the Agency was thinking, sending someone like her out into the field. She was out of her depth, and it was up to him to keep her alive.

“Do they even train you people before they send you out here?” he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Grier shot him a sharp look, her green eyes flashing with indignation. “I wasn’t supposed to be in the field,” she snapped back, her voice laced with irritation. “I’m an analyst, not an operative.”

Alec gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on the road, biting back the retort that sprang to his lips. He knew she was right. He also knew that part of his irritation had nothing to do with the CIA. Analysts were supposed to be behind desks, not dodging bullets in the middle of a foreign city. But none of that made their situation any less precarious, and it didn’t change the fact that her inexperience and lack of training could get them both killed.

Alec forced himself to focus. If they were going to get out of this alive, he needed to tamp down the leftover emotions from that night at the club. They were being hunted, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. He had to think like a SEAL, like the man he had been before joining Cerberus—always one step ahead, always prepared for the worst. They needed to disappear, to find a place to lay low until he could figure out their next move.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Grier stiffened beside him, her hand flying out to grab his arm.

“Alec, look!” she hissed, nodding toward the side mirror.

Alec glanced over and his heart skipped a beat. There, in the reflection, was the unmistakable glint of headlights, closing in fast. He cursed under his breath. He had missed it, had been too caught up in his frustration to notice the tail. But Grier had seen it. Despite her inexperience, she had spotted the danger he’d overlooked.

“Hold on,” he barked, yanking the wheel hard to the right.

The car veered sharply, tires screeching as he darted down a narrow alleyway, the walls of the buildings flashing by in a blur. The car behind them followed, its engine roaring as it tried to close the distance. Alec pushed the accelerator to the floor, his eyes scanning the maze of alleyways for an escape route. They couldn’t keep this up forever; they needed to find shelter, somewhere to regroup and plan their next move.

Up ahead, he spotted a large, dilapidated building, its windows boarded up, its façade crumbling with age. An abandoned warehouse, by the looks of it—perfect. Alec sped toward it, turning sharply into a side street that led to the rear of the building. He slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt behind a row of rusted-out dumpsters. They were hidden from the main road, at least for the moment.

“Get out,” Alec ordered, already moving as he spoke.

Grier didn’t hesitate this time. She scrambled out of the car, clutching her laptop to her chest as Alec led the way toward the warehouse. He pushed open a rusted metal door, the hinges groaning in protest, and ushered her inside. The darkness swallowed them whole.

Alec pulled the door shut behind them, securing it with a broken pipe he found on the floor. The air inside was thick with dust, the scent of mildew and rust pervasive. The warehouse was vast, filled with the ghostly remains of old machinery and stacks of forgotten crates. It was the kind of place that had seen better days, long abandoned and forgotten by the world.

“Over here,” Alec said, leading Grier deeper into the shadows.

They found a corner near the back of the warehouse, where they could hunker down and avoid any prying eyes. Alec knelt beside her, his eyes scanning the darkness, his mind racing as he considered their options. The only light they had came from the faint glow of Grier’s laptop as she powered it on. They couldn’t stay here long—eventually, their pursuers would find the car and trace them to the warehouse. But for now, it would have to do.

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