Page 77 of Dangerous Devotion

“Three and a half!”

They shared a chuckle, which Simpson joined in on. Was it her imagination that his laugh sounded hollow?

Was he on to them?

“We’ll check our plans, since we do have such a tight schedule for our road trip. Thank you for the offer, Shaw.”

Simpson studied them for a moment. Then he nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to interrupt your plans because of a silly old training.”

“I’ll let you know very soon. I know where to find you.”

The man appeared a bit stiffer, more distant than a moment before.

As if his plans were dashed.

With that, he said a polite goodnight and walked away.

In case he glanced back, May lifted her glass and brought it to her lips. “After that, I need to smuggle this entire bottle out.”

AJ’s brow hiked upward. “As much as I’d love to see you a little bit tipsy and uninhibited, I need you very sober when we have the talk we need to have.”

“Talk?”

“Yes. There’s no goddamn way I’m letting you go back onto that base, May.”

SIXTEEN

They barely made it into the car before it started. The argument about whether or not May was really going through with the proposed training session.

She banged her door a little too hard. As he circled the car to get behind the wheel, his strides were stiff. His shoulders set for a pending battle.

Hell, he’d rather storm into a war than fight with May. Their night had begun so perfectly, too. Ending on a sour note was something he wanted to avoid. But one glance at her profile and the firm jut of her delicate chin told him he was in for a nuclear meltdown if he didn’t toe the line.

She ripped the seatbelt out with a whir and clicked it into place. He did the same. Before he started the car, he locked his hands on the wheel, feeling the leather give beneath his tight grip.

“Don’t even say it, AJ. Don’t tell me that I’m not going there. Not when it’s the only way to get inside that hangar without marching in there with an army or a federal search warrant so we can find that bomb.”

His molars mashed together. “You are not considering taking him up on that offer. Didn’t you see his expression, May? If he isn’t suspicious of us, I’m a fucking soccer dad!”

She narrowed her eyes, but it didn’t cut off the angry lightning bolts shooting from their depths. “I said I’d check our plans, not sign up for it. I was playing a role, same as you. Now drive. I’m not arguing about this with you until you’re calmer.”

“Until I’m calmer?” He choked down the rest of that angry retort and drove out of the parking lot after what started as the best night of his life. Dinner with May was the closest thing he’d had to a date in years. It wasn’t supposed to end with a fight—he was supposed to carry her to bed and strip her slowly while worshipping every inch of her body.

Instead, the instant they got back to the room, the argument picked up where it left off.

Henner faced May. Between them, the line was drawn in the sand, and they stood on opposite sides.

“No.” His tone was final.

She tipped her chin down, eyes widening. “No?”

“No. You’re not going in there.” His pulse hammered in his temples.

The moment Simpson sent over that bottle of wine, Henner felt on edge. Every cell in his body knew it too. They were in danger. Their cover possibly blown.

And then there was the way that Simpson looked at May when he made the offhanded comment about them still being in the area. On the surface, it was casual conversation, but Henner wasn’t fooled. The major general was on to them.

“You arenottelling me what to do. I’m not some delicate woman—”

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