Page 92 of Covert Temptation

“Who says?”

“Pretty sure the doctor says.”

He reached out and snagged his discharge papers off the table. He pretended to skim the pages and then tossed them down again. “Nope. Nowhere does it say I can’t make the woman I love scream my name until every person on this floor knows me.” He flashed a grin when her cheeks infused with a pink glow.

He gently tugged on her hand, pulling her across the bed until she was sprawled on top of him.

“Dante!”

“Shh. You know you want me.” He pressed his lips to hers.

“You were just shot.”

“I’ve been shot before. Having the woman I love in my bed is new.”

Her lips curled up at that, her eyes going hazy with his words.

He claimed her mouth again in a soft caress that lingered for several heartbeats. When his traitorous stomach gave a thunderous rumble, Kennedy practically leaped off him. “See? Youarehungry.”

“Not enough to eat that.” He waved at what passed as Italian food in this joint. “I can’t wait to get back to the base and have a pizza.”

She stood next to the bed, holding his hand just like she had been every step of his recovery. “But is that pizza better thanourpizza? The one we shared in the safe house?”

He swung his legs over the side, ignoring the fire of pain from his surgery to repair the damage that bullet had done, and drew her to stand between his knees. “Nothing is better than you.”

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in closer. He threaded his fingers in her soft hair, drawing her mouth to his. Every minute of this stay had been pure torment with Kennedyfussing over him. All he wanted was his own bed—with her. Riding him.

This kiss took on new meaning. She let slip a moan as he deepened it, swirling his tongue over hers and tugging on her plump bottom lip with his teeth.

When she drew back, she was shaking.

More kisses might’ve followed if the door hadn’t creaked open.

“Ride’s here,” Steele announced, stepping into the room like he owned it. “Hope you’re decent.”

Dante grinned at seeing his brother-in-arms. Members of the team had been in and out all week long, checking in on him and sneaking him junk food contraband. But he was so damn glad to see his friend.

“Steele.” He walked over to him, fist out.

Steele rapped knuckles with him and gave him a once-over. “Con told me to make damn sure you’re ready to leave.”

“As if Con has anything to say about it. I’ve got my walking papers, so I’m walking.” He nodded to the table.

Kennedy scooped up the papers along with his go-bag that had been collected from the safe house. Steele reached out for the bag. “I’ll get all the luggage. You make sure he doesn’t hurt himself getting into the wheelchair.”

Dante jolted. “Who said anything about a wheelchair?”

“Hospital protocol. Don’t bother complaining either.” Kennedy’s warning tone only warmed Dante from the inside out.

When Kennedy stepped out of the room to get the wheelchair waiting for him, Dante turned to Steele. “Remind me to deck you later. You interrupted something.”

Steele smirked. “Good—we don’t need any little Dantes running around the base.”

The brief ride in the hospital elevator seemed to take longer than the chopper ride back to base. Kennedy didn’t even complain when Steele handed her the blackout hood.

But watching her draw the cloth over her shining hair made Dante wonder how long it would be before the team trusted her the same way they trusted Sophie, Alyssa and May.

Back at the base, everything was in motion, the usual organized chaos only Charlie could pull off. Phones rang, the game was on too loud and someone yelled for more bacon for the pizzas being assembled in the outdoor kitchen.

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