He couldn’t be number four any more than Beth could be the next Jenna.
Beth awoke to so many aches in her body she couldn’t pinpoint which one hurt the worst. With a groan, she opened her eyes and searched for the clock on her nightstand. The familiar red lights didn’t meet her gaze. She blinked. Still no red numbers. No photo of Danny next to her lamp. Nothing except darkness.
Bolting upright, she groaned as the night played out before her open eyes like a first-person shooter video game.
Laughter rattled from behind the faint outline of a closed door in front of her.
Kane?
She strained her ears. The beautiful sound sluiced through her body like a healing potion. A moment later, Nic cursed in Spanish. Linc called him a pussy. Kane’s delighted howl drowned out the rest of the conversation.
She looked up to the ceiling and thanked the heavens. Tears sprang to her eyes. Kane lived, but she’d shot, likely killed, a man last night. Maybe two. All she clearly remembered was Kane, weapon drawn like a gunslingerfrom the Wild West, walking into the middle of the only road in town and facing his enemy like a man.
But Kane wasn’t just any ordinary man. He hadn’t even needed a gun to take down armed cartel enforcers sent by the devil himself.
She pressed her fingers to her aching temple. What had she witnessed? Kane had stood under the clouds in the frigid night like he’d been the one sent by the devil. The pure concentration and menace that hardened his features and the beautiful, stalwart lines of his corded body terrified and mesmerized her at the same time. And then the hostiles in front and behind him had fallen one by one as if a look from him could actually kill.
Could it?
Kane had scooped her up and carried her into the night without checking to see if any of the mercenaries had gotten up. At least two—yes, definitely two—she recalled as details sharpened in her mind, had reason to be unconscious. She’d shot them, for Christ’s sake, but how had the others fallen?
She sat up and kicked off the covers. A white bandage covered her thigh where she’d cut it on the ugly kitchen table. An ache sprung in the wound as if her acknowledgment triggered the pain to kick in. Had she hit her head too? It hurt like a bitch. Maybe she’d banged it hardenough to distort her recollection of the night’s catastrophe. Maybe Kane had had a gun and she didn’t recall him using it.
Or maybe he really was a superhero.
Holy hell, he’d looked like one. Last night may have been a blur, but she vividly recalled every vibrating muscle in his chiseled stomach as he stood as still as a wolf poised for attack. Remembered every rise and fall of his broad, solid chest that made his VIPER tattoo writhe like a beast salivating for prey. Through every graceful move that either scared the bad guys enough to back off or scared them to death, he stared at her with a promise to protect.
And she’d believed him. Believed he would throw himself in front of a bullet again or run through fire to save her. And more than that, despite the terror of the explosion and the ambush and the men with guns who emerged from the smoke, she believed Kane would come out of it alive.
Now, in the light of day, the fear she’d buried under adrenaline and sheer will to survive slithered through her overstimulated mind.
Swinging her legs over the bed, she winced as an ache spiraled up her leg. The outline of a lamp came into view. Reaching, she flicked it on. Soft light illuminated the white walls and ceiling. A quick glance confirmed the room contained nothing but the big bed she’d woken up in and the nightstand.
“Nice,” she hissed. Maybe in her spare time, she’d contract with VIPER as an interior decorator for their safe houses. Hiding from danger was bad enough. Doing it in a colorless room with no Christmas bling in sight except her dirty gown in a ball under the window covered in heavy black curtains qualified as torture.
Just how had her gown wound up over there? She dropped her gaze to the red Marine Corps logo emblazoned across her breasts. Fisting the gray T-shirt, she yanked it up to her nose. Kane’s scent clung to the material like she’d clung to him as he’d carried her away from the burning house and fallen bad guys.
She didn’t remember much after that except Kane talking to someone, probably through that cyborg voodoo magic. But the magic wasn’t just confined to his head. Based on how fast he’d torn through that cornfield with her cradled in his arms, super speed had been engineered into his leg too. A man didn’t get that fast from running track in high school.
After that, everything went dark. She didn’t recall the rendezvous point. Not the drive here, wherever here was. Nor did she remember being put to bed, much less Kane removing her dress and slipping his shirt over her head.
Heat flooded her cheeks. She shouldn’t be embarrassed Kane had seen her body. Hell, he’d licked her pussy from the inside out last night and it had been…
She slid her hand down her belly to the juncture of her thighs covered in the silky lilac thong she’d worn under her gown. Kane’s mouth had been heaven. Yet knowing he’d attended to her injury, got her into his soft T-shirt, and tucked her into the comfortable bed seemed more intimate. It was about time he was intimately honest with her about what she’d witnessed last night.
Kane snapped his head to the bedroom door as Beth walked out, a bit wobbly on legs that looked incredible below the hem of his T-shirt.
He crossed the small living room and reached her in three strides. Grasping her shoulders, he shielded her body with his. Nic and Linc didn’t need to gawk at the beautiful, hot mess in his clothes.
She glanced toward the windows. A sliver of sunlight peeked through a gap in the drapes. A car honked from the front of the house, followed by the grinding of a garbage truck. “Where are we?”
“Just outside of DC at another safe house. Tell me how you feel.”
“Like you have some explaining to do.”
Dark circles marred the skin under her eyes. She smelled like the fire from last night, but her snark hadn’t taken a hit. And thank God she wasn’t hiding under the covers in a dark bedroom like his mother had after her trauma. Beth was tougher than that, but if last night had broken her, he’d be here to help put herback together.
Linc cleared his throat behind them. “I’m headed out to do a perimeter sweep.”