Page 61 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

He smiled again. “We’ll do our best to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

The light switched off, plunging the back of the truck into darkness again. Georgia gripped Peter’s hand a bit tighter.

“Are you ok?”

Peter asked it so quietly that with the road and engine noise she was sure no one else could have heard him.

“Yeah, I’m all right. I just feel like we’re about to step into a cage that has lots of angry, hungry lions in it.”

Peter squeezed her hand. “Interesting analogy. Only we’re going in with eight guys armed to the teeth. The lions don’t have a chance.”

“I hope so.”

He lifted her hand up and she felt something soft brush the back of her knuckles. He was kissing her hand.

“Trust me,” he said, his quiet whisper tickling her nerve endings. “This is going to turn out ok.”

Georgia had to take a calming breath before she could speak. Trust him? Was he serious? After all the details he chose not to tell her?

He sat next to her, holding her hand, and leaning down so his breath tickled the sensitive skin of her neck.

Of course, he was. Just like a man to expect a woman to ignore an omission or two. What was she supposed to say? That she believed him?

“I believe you,” Georgia said. As the words left her mouth, a shiver swept through her. Shedidbelieve him.

His lips grazed her now sensitized skin again and she had to choke back a groan. If anyone heard her, they’d sure as heck wonder what they were doing in the dark. His lips should be classified as weapons. They certainly had enough ammo to knock her flat. Georgia’s head spun. What a situation. Terrorists, Navy SEALs and a CIA agent. Somehow, she didn’t think this was the normal way for a woman to fall in love.

Chapter Thirteen

Peter held Georgia’shand and sat close enough that the right side of his body was in complete contact with hers. She slumped against him; her muscles not quite as tense as they had been.

She’d pulled away and hardened up after Stokes mentioned Peter’s connection to the CIA. Given him a flat stare any Army Drill Sergeant would have been proud of too.

He’d planned to tell her the moment they were in the clear. Somewhere safe and with the time to explain the weirdness that was his life.

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