Page 41 of The Sniper

Daniels watched her carefully. He could see it now—the frustration, the anger. But underneath it all, he recognized something else.

Guilt.

He straightened, crossing the space between them. “If I hadn’t taken that hit, I wouldn’t have gotten Rowe out of there in time.”

She lifted her chin, refusing to meet his eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Her breath hitched, barely, but he caught it.

And then she shoved him. It wasn’t much—just a hard press of her palms against his chest—but it sent a sharp sting through his side, making him hiss.

“Damn it, Reyna...”

“You could have died!”

The words burst out of her, raw and angry, and for the first time that night, she met his gaze. Her eyes were blazing, furious and full of something he hadn’t seen before.

Fear.

Daniels’ heart slammed against his ribs.

He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Just let her breathe through it, let her feel it.

And then, softer this time, “You could have died.”

His throat tightened. “I didn’t.”

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get it. You don’t...”

She turned away, pressing her hands to her face.

Something inside him cracked.

“Reyna…”

She dropped her hands, turning back to him, her expression vulnerable in a way he’d never seen before. “Just stop acting like this doesn’t matter. Like it’s just another op, another night, another near-death experience.”

“Stop,” he said. “You think I don’t know what this is doing to you? That I don’t see you shouldering every loss like it’s yours alone?”

Reyna clenched her jaw. “Itismine.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’sours.”

The room was quiet, too quiet, the tension between them felt like a coiled snake ready to strike. He was searching for something to say, something that would make her understand. But before he could come up with the right thing to say, she did something he never expected.

She stepped closer, pressing her hands to his chest again—this time, gentle. Testing.

Her hands slid up, fingers curling into the open collar of his shirt. “Say something.”

He couldn’t. Because if he did, he wouldn’t stop. He’d say things she wasn’t ready to hear.

Reyna let out a sharp breath, frustration warring with something deeper. “Damn it, Daniels...”

He kissed her. It wasn’t the soft, sensual kiss he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t careful. It was every unspoken word, every near miss, every moment of conflict that had ever come between them melded into the second his lips crashed against hers. The world tilted on its axis.

Reyna responded instantly, a desperate sound escaping her as her hands fisted his shirt. He pressed her back against the wall, his fingers threading through her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She gasped, her body molding against his, and he swallowed the sound, pouring everything he couldn’t say into this moment.

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