Page 55 of Covert Temptation

Christ, she was beautiful and smart and funny, in the best of ways at the best of times.

And she was giving him this time, knowing he needed it for his mental health, when her own had been suffering for weeks.

As soon as he took care of himself, he would be better able to take care of her. The minute he walked back through that door, he would do everything in his power to see that she was happy and cared for.

He hooked his pinky around hers. When he tugged her toward him, she lifted her face for his kiss.

The caress was brief but sweet, filled with meaning he couldn’t put words to.

By the time he reached the main road, Dante hit his stride. It was narrow, a gray strip leading to the icy horizon. Not a sound of a car echoed in his ears, only the whisper of the wind and the scurrying of small animals at the snowy roadside.

A thousand things hit his mind at once. Would he ever go back to SEAL Team 3, where he had more purpose in the field of battle? He loved those brothers. They’d dug in deep, fought long and hard. They’d lost some skirmishes and won more.

They’d lost a few good men too, and when he signed his Blackout papers, they believed he was dead as well.

Now Charlie was out on a mission, and without Dante covering their six with intel on hand, they were flying blind.

Goddammit.

Then he thought about his real family, left behind long ago. After the King children were made wards of the state, all of his siblings were adopted.

Dante was the odd man out.

They were all grown up now. Sometimes he checked in on them, not unlike the way Kennedy checked on her parents. He only hoped they were happy.

Finally, Kennedy occupied a lot of space in his mind.

Fuck, the taste of her lingered in his memory. The warmth of her eyes when she told him she understood what he needed stripped the last remnant of suspicion he had about her.

A childhood spent in foster care left him well aware of who was fake and who wasn’t.

All this time, he was convinced Kennedy leaked that intel. Everything he knew about her was in a file, compiled by Blackout’s interrogations or the FBI. But Dante got to knowher.Once he knew more, new light was shed on the facts he read in her file.

He saw the real her. And she wasn’t pretending. She was pure. Unapologetic. Kennedy.

The sound of her laugh reverberated in his soul. When he got back, he would make her laugh and moan and laugh somemore. He would turn on the hockey game and they’d eat junk food until they burst if that was what she wanted.

Another revelation hit as his foot came down on the pavement—for a man who didn’t do feelings, Dante seemed to have a hell of a lot of them now.

His muscles hummed with exertion, and the rhythm snaked into his soul.

Even if he wasn’t needed on the op, he was doing important work here. With Kennedy’s help, he could prove what they’d only suspected until now—that Daniel Sheen was alive.

This was massive—especially with suspicions that he wasn’t just connected to Cipher, but might actually be the terrorist himself.

Cipher had slipped through all the cracks thus far, and now it would take all of their combined skills to finish this.

When they finally got the terrorist in their sights, what Dante wanted more than anything was to be on the front lines with his team.

He made a U-turn and headed back to the house, faster now, fueled by the urge to return to his work, to leave no stone unturned.

And to see Kennedy.

The weak sun was slipping low in the sky, setting earlier and earlier this time of year. It hovered just above the safe house, casting a long shadow into the front yard.

By the time he reached the door, his muscles were warm and perspiration dampened his forehead. He could have gone on for miles, but he was away from Kennedy long enough.

When he rapped on the door for her to let him in like before, he didn’t get any answer. He knocked again, louder. Maybe she fell asleep?

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