Page 62 of Dangerous Obsession

“What time was that?” Viking’s knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel.

“About twenty minutes ago. Right now, he appears to be headed back to the camper. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Thanks very much, Calliope,” Marigold said. “For everything.”

“I know it’s easy for me to say, Marigold, but try not to worry. You’ve got the best protection in the world sitting right next to you.” Calliope’s confidence in him came from having walked through the proverbial fire together and having each other’s backs to ensure they came home alive. “But don’t tell him that,” she whispered. “I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

The call ended, and a contemplative silence filled the inside of the truck.

Viking pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant and parked.

“You’ve been awful quiet.” Viking lifted her hand and kissed the back. “I’d love to know what’s going through that adorable head of yours.”

“Believe it or not, I’m thinking about how lucky I am.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Not all that long ago, I was trapped in a horrible situation—scared, hurting, feeling like I had no one. Well, except for Dulce.” She smiled, thinking about her friend. “She refused to give up on me, on our friendship. And now, all of these other amazing people are taking time out of their own lives to help me.” She shifted to face him as much as the seat belt would allow. “Most of all, I feel so blessed and lucky to have you in my life. Never in a million years would I have imagined being able to trust someone as much as I trust you. And I definitely never thought I could ever love someone as much as I love you.”

The words came so easily to her now.

“I love you, too, honey.” The leather seat squeaked when he leaned forward to kiss her. Before things got out of hand right there in front of the Chinese restaurant, he lifted his lips from hers but remained close. “You are the strongest person I know, and I hope you know it, too.”

“I’m starting to believe that … thanks to you.”

Viking stood in the dark to the side of the bedroom window, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. His body was still, and his gaze traveled across the nearby rooftops and down to the quiet street below. Next to him, his favorite rifle leaned against the wall. The only activity outside had been a laundry delivery van driving past and an older guy, his raincoat over his pajamas, standing in the drizzle, waiting for his dog to pee.

No sign of Barnum.

You’d think after making love to Marigold not once, not twice, but three times would’ve released some of Viking’s tension. But those little hairs on the back of his neck, the ones that acted as an early warning system that something wasn’t right, would not be ignored.

Calliope had checked in with him and assured him that Marigold’s ex was still at the camper. She’d positioned herself on a nearby rooftop with a panoramic view of the mobile home park. Most people would piss and moan about having to do that kind of continuous surveillance. Not Calliope. It was like she was hard-wired for it. She got a rush from the anticipation—and the hope—that something might go down.

His teammate had lived an interesting life and was an anomaly in the sniper community. And not just because of her small stature and carefully crafted innocuous cheerleader persona. She wasn’t former military, which was atypical of elite snipers, and she had an almost ethereal ability to get in, take out her target, and get out without anyone knowing she was ever there. Not a blade of flattened grass nor a broken twig was left behind. It was why she’d become known as The Wraith.

Marigold stirred and stretched her arm across the bed. Even in sleep, she sought him out. When she realized he wasn’t there, she lifted her head and looked around until she spotted him. She used her forearm to scrub her hair back from her face.

“Hey, are you okay?” Her raspy, sleepy voice brushed over his nerves, and his dick stirred.

After a last look at the street, Viking pulled the cord and shut the blinds. He wrapped his fingers around the familiar forestock of his rifle and carried it across the room. He tucked the weapon between the nightstand and bed and leaned the barrel against the wall.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He slid beneath the soft sheet and lay next to her.

“Is everything okay?” She scooched closer and puzzled up to his side.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”For now.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Marigold shifted up to rest on her elbow and laid her other arm across his chest. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?” His fingertips skimmed up and down the smooth skin of her back. “You’re mine, and I take care of what’s mine.”

“Of course, I do. And you’re mine, too.” She placed a soft kiss to the center of his chest that seared its way clear to his heart, then she turned those big brown eyes of hers up to him. “You make me feel safe, secure, and loved forme, for who I really am. I’ve never had that before—never thought I would.”

“You willneverhave a reason to doubt my love for you.” He dragged his fingers through her silky curls. “Got it?”

His girl was used to facing life’s hardships pretty much on her own. Sure, she had Dulce and her parents and, more recently, Cole. But he needed her to know that he would walk through fire to keep her safe and would spend the rest of his life trying to make her happy.

“Yes, sir.” She gave a mock salute, pushed herself up, and threw her leg over him. Her knees on the bed, she sat up and straddled him with all of her glorious nakedness on full display. “Now let me see if I can help you relax a little.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CLANK!CLANK!BANG!Cliff jerked awake and rolled off the lumpy mattress. He landed facedown on the floor and threw his arms protectively over his head. The rank, moldy carpet assaulted his nose. He rose to his hands and knees, breaths heaving, heart hammering against his ribcage. He reached up, swept his arm across the bed, searching for the pistol. His fingertips brushed cold steel. He snatched the revolver from beneath his pillow and frantically scanned his surroundings. A moment passed before his mental fog cleared and he realized he wasn’t back in his cell.

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