Page 25 of Saint

“Haven’t even what?” Nik asked.

Mia felt her face heat with embarrassment. Thank God it was too dark for Nik to see. “Um, haven’t even met anyone special.”

It sounded lame, but she didn’t care. It was better—well, at least less embarrassing—than admitting she was a virgin who didn’t have any prospects.

They continued walking silently and she took special care where she stepped. This country had too many legends and who knew what Nik would tell her next. Probably that the cave was haunted.

“Do you think they’ll follow us down here?”

The moment the words left her mouth, they heard voices not too far away. Nik grabbed her hand, tugging her off the path toward another small opening. She didn’t like the idea of crawling through such a narrow space, but they were running out of options.

“Go,” he ordered, handing her his phone.

Mia dropped to her hands and knees, shining the light into the opening. Pulling in a deep breath, she wriggled between the rocks and into the looming black tunnel, moving forward into the damp and cold unknown.Please don’t be bats, please don’t be spiders, please don’t be—

An insect that looked like it crawled off the set ofAlienskittered across her hand and Mia cried out. She quickly covered her mouth and then Nik’s hand shoved hard against her ass.

“Move your ass, Mia! They’re coming!”

Chapter Eight

Forcing himself not to think about the narrow space that felt like it was closing in on him, Saint pushed Mia, encouraging her to move with a firm shove to her delicious behind. But, he couldn’t even enjoy his palm on her ass because, at that moment, he was living his worst nightmare.

Claustrophobia was a bitch he struggled with all on his own. Not even his team knew he hated being stuck in any kind of tight, dark space. It was an unfortunate, and inconvenient, consequence stemming from his childhood. When kids had misbehaved at the orphanage, the assholes in charge had never hesitated to punish them. He could still remember every detail of being locked up in the small, cramped broom closet. The cracks in the plaster, the hole in the baseboard, the smell of rat feces coming from inside the walls. And, most of all, he remembered crying for the mother who’d dropped him off on those snow-covered steps that long ago February fourteenth.

Breathe,he reminded himself, sucking in cold, damp air. He wasn’t in that closet and, logically, he knew he never would be again. But it didn’t matter; he needed to get the hell out of that tunnel. If Mia didn’t pick it up, he was going to squeeze past her.

No, he wouldn’t dare. The fear of getting stuck, somehow trapped between her and the rough rock wall, was enough to make him want to vomit.Calm down!he yelled internally. Freaking out would only result in them being found.

Men with guns he could face, no problem. But a tight, cramped space, forget it. He ended up reverting back to a scared and defenseless child again.

When Mia suddenly stopped, he plowed into her. “Go!” he ordered, his head scraping the low ceiling.

“Which way? The tunnel splits.”

“I don’t care,” he growled, trying to suppress his increasing panic. Fear’s sharp teeth nipped at him, trying to drag him under. She must’ve heard his ragged breaths, the climbing anxiety in his words, because she hesitated.

“Are you okay?”

His heavy breathing filled the narrow subterranean passage and sweat dripped down his brow despite the coldness. “Get me out of this tunnel, Mia.” He hated the desperation in his voice, but he couldn’t control the way his chest tightened, squeezing the air out of his lungs, or the way his heart hammered like a drum.

“Hang onto me, Nik,” she said, her voice strong and unwavering. “I’ll get us out.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he placed a hand on her lower back, gripping her coat in a tight fist, and continued to crawl forward. Touching her helped ground him and the threatening nausea abated. What felt like an hour, but his rational mind told him was merely a minute later, Mia led them out of the narrow passage and into a large, wide-open cavern. He drew in a huge, shaky breath, hating himself for showing weakness. Hating that Mia saw him lose his shit, even if only briefly.

“Nik?”

“I’m okay,” he said, trying to sound more in control and failing miserably.

She stepped forward, pulled her right glove off, and slid her hand into his coat, covering his rapidly-beating heart. The feel of her small hand soothed him, and as she lightly massaged his pec, he felt his shoulders drop and his heart rate slow. “Touch helps,” she murmured. “Always remember to breathe through the fear.”

Their gazes locked and he saw understanding in her beautiful azure eyes. Like she knew exactly what he was experiencing. Had maybe even been through it before herself. His throat felt too dry to speak and squeezed with emotion. A sense of calmness slowly washed over him, replacing the panic, and his ragged breaths evened out.

“We need to go,” he finally said, though he was reluctant to lose her grounding touch. His shirt prevented her hand from making contact with his skin, but it didn’t matter. Somehow, she’d managed to halt a full-blown panic attack with such simple contact. The last time this had happened? He’d wound up in the fetal position, unable to move, until the warden came into the isolation pit and kicked him into awareness.

“Where?” she asked, looking around.

Now that he was out of the tight confines of the death tunnel, his head cleared. “Back outside before—”

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