Page 20 of Over the Edge

Struck a little too close to a nerve, had she? She cut off her analysis, ending lamely with, “You’re not serial killer material, at any rate.”

“Good to know.” He changed subject abruptly. “You were saying Haddad’s a megalomaniac?”

Nope. Trevor didn’t like her profile of him one bit. She stood by it, though. This stunt to go rescue Kenny exactly fit his need to impress the people who mattered to him. She only hoped the rest of her profile wasn’t accurate. His actions suggested he would be willing, eager even, to martyr himself on behalf of his loved ones. Spectacularly. Something like self-immolation wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.

She yanked her mind back to the conversation at hand. “Right. Haddad. Big time megalomaniac. A bully, too. It’s how he keeps control over a fractious group of Afghani, Pakistani, Chechen, and miscellaneous other freedom fighters.”

“You know what they say,” Trevor commented, leaning in until his lips were practically on her temple. Predictably, her heart rate and respiration spiked. He murmured low, “One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.”

Must act normal. Should say something back.Words. Use your words, Anna.

She looked up at him, and he was staring back. All ability to form coherent sentences evaporated in the face of his penetrating, intimate stare. She registered the turbulence in his eyes, the pain and determination and gratitude roiling within them…and the corresponding lust rising in her belly like turbulent surf.

Her breath caught, and then her pulse was off to the races, pounding in her neck so hard she worried he would see it through her skin.

He inhaled sharply, his breath audibly catching in his throat.

So. He felt it, too.

All the electric desire from outside Mabel’s Saloon was right there between them again. Except this time there was no whiskey to blame it on. This time it was just the two of them, stone cold sober, and lust still raged between them.

When did it get so hot on this plane? An urge to fan herself raced through her.

There were no teammates to razz them, here, no boss to forbid them from indulging in this madness. If they wanted to let it run away, if they wanted to ride this wave to oblivion, there was nothing and no one to stop them.

She realized abruptly that her knee was touching his, and even that tiny contact sent lightning bolts of awareness tingling through her leg. His pupils dilated sharply, and he leaned in even a little closer until his shoulder rubbed hers lightly.

Chain lightning streaked through her entire body as he intentionally brought them into closer contact. Oh, he definitely felt it, too.

Fear exploded in her belly, and she sat frozen, startled at the sensation. What on earth did she have to fear? She was an elite warrior, trained in all forms of combat. Very few people on the planet could pose an actual threat to her any more.

Nonetheless, terror of the things Trevor was making her feel rolled over her. It was too much. Too intense. Too…real.

And then it hit her. She was afraid of being rejected again. Of losing him irrevocably the next time he walked away. And yes, she was afraid he was going to do something suicidal to get himself killed…and on her watch, no less. As his partner out here, it would be her job to keep him alive.

“Earth to Anna. Come in, please.”

She blinked and looked over at Trevor. “I beg your pardon?”

“Where do you go just then?”

She shrugged. “I was wondering how hard you’re going to make it for me to keep you alive.”

His brows came together. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You know as well as I do that Cal sent me on this mission to keep an eye on you. That would include stopping you from martyring yourself.”

His mouth opened. Closed.

Sometimes she hated being right. He did have a bit of a death wish.

She sighed. “Wanna tell me why you’re so determined to throw yourself on your sword?

Trevor leaned back, removing his knee from hers. She sighed in relief—

--Too soon, however, for Trevor tucked his elbow behind hers, sharing the narrow armrest between their seats. Now his arm was lightly resting against her ribs, while her entire forearm was snugged up against his side. Oh, he was totally trying to distract her, now. And darned if it wasn’t working.

“I’ve often wondered the same thing about you,” he murmured. “Why did you choose to go for the SEALs? Many people would say you have a death wish, too.”

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