Page 22 of Dash

“Who?”

“Trevor Marks.”

“Aw, Trev.” I smiled when I thought of him.

Trev, Nix, and Dash had been quite the trio since they met in boarding school, where they established a reputation as the three musketeers,one for all, and all for one. Together, they’d managed to get themselves admitted to MIT, joined the Marines, and eventually, one by one, made the cut to join the elite Marine Raiders. The same battle that had killed Nix had put Trev in a wheelchair. My smile faltered and the old sadness returned to weigh me down.

“Trev’s doing better than all right these days.” Dash read my face and tried to cheer me up. “He was the one who persuaded me to lead a new team for BB. Tracker Team is already on the ground and working on this.”

“Tracker Team.” I considered him closely. “Because you’ll be tracking whom? People? Things?”

“Hostages, high value targets, persons of interests, global criminals, threats such as rogue nuclear and biological weapons, and now your father’s murderer, among other things.”

“Sounds like dangerous work.” My worries spiked.

“It’s work we’re trained to do,” he assured me as he took a seat on the side of my bed, facing me.

“Dash.” I held his stare. “We need to catch this son of a bitch.”

“We will.” He took my hand and kissed it, a sweet gesture that threw my emotions into total disarray. “But first, we need you healthy and safe.”

“Uh-uh. You’re not putting me away, Dagger.” I slid my hand out of his. I might be tired and unable to tackle our past, but there were some basics I needed to clarify now, before Dash took over. “I know what you’re thinking. Lock her up in a tower and throw away the key. I’m not gonna hide from this.”

“Someone tried to kill you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they’d succeeded.” The concern I spotted in his eyes stirred both my deepest hopes and my greatest fears. “You need to heal, and I need to keep you safe. I’m asking you to work with me.”

“I can work with you, as long as you don’t try to control me,” I said. “Three years of servitude to my father have taken a toll. I’m determined to recover from that as well. I can’t bear to travel that route again.”

“Understood.” He gave me a curt nod. “Now, I need to get something out of the way.”

“What is it?”

“This.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. For such a strong man, he’d always had the softest, most succulent lips. Yeah, he still did.

“Hmm,” I sighed against his mouth like a lovesick puppy.

The contact wiped my wits. His kiss turned increasingly more intense, and so did my reaction to him. He overtook my mouth and reminded every part of me to his presence in my life. The brush of his beard chafed against my skin. The rasps of his respiration reminded me we were both alive, breathing the same air, in the same room. His fingers cupped my face, but his gentle touch held my very soul in his grip. I wanted to fight him, to hate him, but he was here, with me, in this hospital, and I’d been on my own too long.

Imprinted with memories of his caresses, my body remembered how amazing he’d made me feel long ago and also when he’d kissed me in the boardroom. And right now. Oh, yeah. He felt so good.

His tongue swept over my mouth. I yielded for him and joined in the slow dance taking place between our tongues. His kiss reached out to the furthest corners of my being, into the drought-afflicted spaces in my head where no joy had sprouted since the moment he’d left.

He smelled good. He felt good. Connected to him, my energy returned, along with a sense of hope—for what, I wasn’t sure. I coasted in the strength of his arms and the passion of his kiss for what seemed an eternity. He kissed me as if he still loved me.

Then it happened.

The memories swooped down, gripping me in their painful claws. I remembered the hurt he’d caused me, the way he’d deserted me without so much as an explanation. Perhaps most importantly, I remembered my priorities: my sisters. I broke the contact that sealed our mouths, scolding myself for being so susceptible to him and needing him so badly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, putting some distance between our faces. “You’re not well and here I am, mauling you like a beast. I don’t know what came over me.”

I knew.

The force that had bound us together for most of our lives had struck again. I felt it now as strongly as I did when I was a kid, a teenager, and a woman whenever he was near. Dash had come over me and, even if he was regretting it and I was mad at myself for yielding to it, I couldn’t regret the brief joy I’d experienced in his arms.

“Dagger.” I wagged a finger at him. “Don’t try to distract me again.”

“I wasn’t trying to distract you,” he said. “I simply wasn’t able to stop myself.”

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