Page 32 of Protecting Her

"I can try." Jude turned to face her fully, letting Carmen see past her professional mask. "I've lost people before because I missed small clues. Because I let my guard down at the wrong moment." She swallowed hard. "I won't lose you too."

"Oh, darling." Carmen's hand came up to trace the healing cut on Jude's cheek. "You're not alone in this anymore. We protect each other now."

The touch sent electricity through Jude's combat-heightened nerves. She caught Carmen's wrist gently, feeling her pulse race beneath her fingers. "It's my job to?—"

"To what?" Carmen stepped closer, erasing the careful distance between them. "To pretend this is just another protection detail? To act like last night didn't change everything?"

Before Jude could respond, Sarah's voice crackled through her radio. "Building's secure. But we've got increased police patrols in the area. They could be compromised units."

The interruption snapped Jude back to tactical awareness. She moved to check the security feeds, noting how the patrols had established coverage zones that looked too precise to be routine.

"They're searching grids," she noted, studying the pattern. "Methodically covering the neighborhood."

Carmen joined her at the monitors, their shoulders brushing against each other. "Looking for signs of recent activity. Changes in traffic patterns, new security features, anything that might indicate a safe house."

"They know our protocols." Jude switched between camera views, tracking vehicle movements. "Which means they have someone with intimate knowledge of our operations."

"A traitor?" Carmen's diplomatic mind was already analyzing implications. "Or someone forced to cooperate?"

"Either way, we're exposed." Jude checked her weapon, comforted by its familiar weight. "We need to establish a security rotation. Four-hour shifts, overlapping coverage, and?—"

Carmen's hand on her arm stopped her. "When was the last time you slept?"

The question caught Jude off guard. "I'm fine."

"That's not what I asked." Carmen's voice carried that particular tone that could make diplomats and warlords alike reconsider their positions. "You've been running on adrenaline since the assassination attempt. You need rest."

"I need to protect you."

"And you need to be at your best to do that." Carmen's fingers traced patterns on Jude's arm that made it hard to focus. "Let your team handle the first watch. You're no good to anyone if you're exhausted."

Jude wanted to argue, but fatigue was starting to blur the edges of her alertness. "Two hours. Then I'll?—"

"Four hours minimum." Carmen's smile held both affection and steel. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not that kind of doctor."

"No, but I've spent enough time in war zones to recognize combat fatigue." Carmen's hand moved to cup Jude's face, her thumb brushing the cut on her cheek. "Let me take care of you for once."

The words struck deeper than any argument could have. Jude felt her resistance crumbling under the weight of exhaustion and the impossible tenderness in Carmen's touch.

"Fine," she conceded quietly. "But I'm sleeping in the security room. And you stay where I can?—"

"Where you can see me," Carmen finished, understanding as always. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As if summoned by their discussion, Sarah appeared in the doorway. "First watch is set. Kate's monitoring communications, and Marcus has eyes on the perimeter."

Jude nodded, already calculating response times and defensive positions. But Carmen's presence beside her kept drawing her attention from tactical concerns to more personal ones.

They had survived the extraction, found relative safety, and established security protocols. But as night settled over their sanctuary, Jude knew the real challenge lay ahead: maintaining professional focus when every fiber of her being wanted to pull Carmen close and never let go.

The safe house might protect them from external threats, but nothing could shield them from what they'd become to each other. And somehow, that felt more dangerous than any assassin's bullet.

A perimeter sensor's soft chime pulled Jude from combat-light sleep. She was instantly alert, one hand moving to her weapon before her eyes fully opened. The security room's monitors cast blue shadows across unfamiliar walls as her tactical mind reoriented: safe house, Bogotá, three hours since she'd reluctantly agreed to rest.

"Just the neighbor's cat again." Carmen's voice came from nearby. She'd kept her promise to stay where Jude could see her, and she sat in the chair next to the couch where Jude had insisted on sleeping, reading glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed intelligence briefs in the dim light.

Jude checked the sensor display anyway, muscle memory taking over. The thermal imaging showed a small figure movingalong their outer wall: feline, not human. She forced her hands to relax their grip on her weapon.

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