Page 31 of Fighting for Ella

CHAPTER NINE

February 7th

1:40 A.M.

Panic.

That was the first conscious thought Ella was aware of.

As quickly as it came, it passed as she felt the strong arms wrapped around her and the sense of fear was chased away by a sense of security.

“Miguel?” Even half out of it as she was, Ella knew there was only one thing that gave her that feeling of safety and that one thing was the tall, dark, and handsome SEAL who had saved her life on more than one occasion.

“You back with me, honey?” he asked.

Was she?

Maybe.

Kind of.

Okay, the more thoughts that slipped into her mind the more awake she felt. Even though it might be nice to stay tucked away in a little cocoon where she didn't have to acknowledge what was happening to her, she couldn’t do that.

Not here, not now.

Just because Miguel had pulled her out of the river, where she had truly believed she was going to drown, didn't mean that they were safe. They couldn’t be all that far away from Raul’s place, which meant his men would still be out in the jungle searching for them. Hunting them.

If ever there was a time where she had to pull it together and be strong, this was it.

Miguel was counting on her, and she didn't want to let him down.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering that he’d been shot before she’d tackled that man and sent them careening down the hill and into the water. “You were hurt.”

A surprised chuckle rumbled through the chest she was tucked against, and she lifted her head from a surprisingly comfortable shoulder to find him looking down at her. In the dark, it was hard to see much, to make out his expression, but she could feel his dark eyes on her, and they felt like they were probing her very soul.

“I'm fine,” he said, brushing off her concern.

“But you were shot,” she persisted. She knew he had been, remembered his grunt of pain, yet he’d swum through the river like it was nothing, and now he was carrying her. That couldn’t be good for him.

“A flesh wound, nothing serious.”

“Did you check?”

“No time for that, you were gone,” he said simply, and she smiled as something warm unfurled low in her belly. She liked the way he said that, liked knowing that he was protective of her. What she didn't like was knowing he was hurt and hadn't taken care of his injury.

“Put me down,” she said, lightly pushing at his shoulders. She was reasonably sure she could stay upright on her feet.

For a second his hold on her tightened, and she got the feeling he didn't like the idea of not holding her any more than she liked the idea of no longer being in his arms. Then he carefully lowered one arm until her feet touched the ground. The other arm he kept around her waist for a moment longer while he waited to see if she could stand without support.

Only when he was sure she could did he take a step back.

Ella wanted to protest the distance between them even if it was only a foot, but she knew that was silly. Just because Miguel had saved her and just because he believed in her didn't change the fact that he’d come to Mexico to arrest her and once he handed her over to Prey, or an agency, or whoever was going to want her when they got home, he’d disappear, and she’d likely never see him again. His brother might be dating her friend, but right now, Ella didn't know where things stood between her and her team. There was every chance those bridges had been burned too badly to repair, and they would not be part of her life going forward either.

“You hit your head,” Miguel said. A fingertip feathered across a lump on her forehead, and light as the contact was, she soaked it up. “Not sure if you have a concussion or you just passed out from exhaustion. Maybe a little of both.”

“Where did you get shot?”

“Shoulder. But it’s just a flesh wound, El.”

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