Page 88 of Final Exit

She swallowed. Nodded. He was doing something sinfully delicious with his thumb on the fleshy part of her palm, sending shudders straight down her spine.

“It’s definitely physical.” His deep voice tingled across her nerve endings. “I can’t deny that I want to slide my hands up your shirt right now, cup them inside your bra, squeeze your—”

“Kade.” She glanced around, cleared her throat and scooted lower in the seat. “Stop it.”

“I haven’t even gotten started.” He grinned, then sobered. “But even if you weren’t mouthwateringly gorgeous, I’d still want you, in every way that a man can want a woman. Because it’snotjust physical. If you were froufrou and loved to shop, I wouldn’t mind. But I’d probably be bored out of my skull. Trust me, sweetheart, you’re anything but boring. I find you utterly fascinating. I love your sarcasm, your intelligence, the way you can handle a gun better than most men I know—when it’s loaded, that is.”

She smacked his shoulder. “I hadn’t slept in two days. I get a pass for that.”

He smiled. “Yeah, you do.” He pressed a whisper-soft kiss against her lips. “You’re not mean. You’re clever, and funny, and maybe a little impatient with people who aren’t as quick and bright as you. But, hey, no one’s perfect. And I wouldn’t want you to be. I love that you’re unpredictable, and impatient, and—”

“Gee, I’m really feeling the love.”

“Okay, maybe I’m not eloquent. But my point is that you’re a good person. And if you ever call yourself selfish again, I might have to spank you.”

“I have a leather whip and feathers at home.” She waggled her eyebrows.

He smiled. “Bailey, if you were selfish, you’d have disappeared at the first hint that someone was tracking down Enforcers. I know you have plenty of money. I’ve seen the land you’ve bought, the houses you own, the cars parked in those garages. If you were concerned just for yourself, you’d have gone to Fiji or New Zealand or somewhere else and started a new life like a lot of Enforcers have. But you didn’t do that. Why? Because you knew that what was happening to your friends was wrong. And you cared about them, cared enough to risk your own life to fight for them, even to fight for Enforcers you’ve never met. That’s why I care about you. Because you care, sometimes too much. I love that about you. I love everything about you.”

He traced a finger down the side of her neck to the upper swells of her breasts. “Sometime, soon, I’d like to show you just how much I care.”

Her seat belt clicked. The armrest between them lifted. And suddenly she was lying on top of him, sprawled across both seats as he scooted down low in his own seat so that no one could see them. And then he was kissing her, devouring her, consuming her with a heat that fairly crackled around them. His hands were everywhere, stroking down her arms, around to her back, sliding up beneath her shirt to trace across her ribs. Everywhere he touched left a trail of fire. Her body softened and readied itself for him, and that’s when she knew she had to stop this madness. Because if she didn’t, she would tear off his clothes right here and make love to him—in a plane full of men on their way to stop a madman.

She broke the kiss and pulled his wicked hands down. “We have to stop,” she whispered.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, so dark they reminded her of the ocean right before a storm. He tugged one of his hands free from hers and lightly feathered her hair back from her face. Then he was lifting her, settling her back into her seat, securing her seat belt. He pressed a soft kiss against her lips then entwined his left hand with her right one.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that I hurt you at the warehouse. I’m sorry that I risked your friends’ lives to save you. But, Bailey, I’d do it again.”

“I know,” she said. “And I still may not really understand why you seem to care so much about me. But I do understand why you did what you did. And I’m sorry, too. I should have trusted you more. I should have known you would never become one of the bad guys. I’m sorry that I didn’t have enough faith in you. You deserve better than that, Kade. You deserve better than me.”

He slowly shook his head. “Sweetheart, no one’s better than you.”

Her heart clutched in her chest. Such beautiful words. And yet, they only proved that the woman he cared about was really a fantasy. He seemed to think she was a good person. But she wasn’t. Not even close.

“Bailey?”

She ignored him.

“Bailey, what’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, drew a shaky breath. “If you think I’m a good person, then you don’t know me at all. You’ve convinced yourself that I’m in this because I care about people, that I’m not a monster deep inside. But you’ve never really asked me the one question you should have asked in the beginning. Ask me, Kade. Ask me the one thing you want to know, need to know about me. And then we’ll see whether you think there’s anyone better than me.”

She rolled her head on the seat back to look at him. A tear traced down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away. He was watching her intently again, his jaw tight, his lips drawn into a firm line.

“Ask me,” she whispered.

He drew a shuddering breath, then said, “Why did you become an Enforcer?”

“There it is,” she said, wiping another tear from her cheek. “It all boils down to that one question, doesn’t it? You can only care about a woman like me if you whitewash the truth and ignore the person that I really am. I don’t regret my decision, Kade. If I had to do it all over again, I would still have said yes the day that one of Cyprian’s men approached me about working for EXIT. Not because I have a driving need to prevent another 9/11. Not because I’m altruistic and searching for justice in a world where very few people really get justice. No, my reason, my one and only reason for becoming an Enforcer is far more gritty, more simple, and yes, far more selfish—I didn’t want to go to prison.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Thursday, 10:47 p.m.

Bailey ran her hands across the cool, smooth Carrara marble island in Mason Hunt’s kitchen. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more beautiful home. His Asheville house was probably large by most people’s standards, a mansion by hers. She’d been so busy traveling and working for EXIT that she’d never chosen a place to settle down. Even the houses she’d bought, scattered around the country, looked pretty much the way they did when she’d purchased them. They were investments, nothing to decorate or to put the time in to make them, well, a home. Seeing this place had her dreaming dreams she’d never dared before, like falling in love, starting a family.

“Can’t sleep either?”

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