Page 14 of Going Rogue
When the thought had panic creeping in again, he clenched his jaw and shook it off. He would keep her safe—no matter what. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s put some distance between us and the Humvee before those fucking militants find it.”
Her face blanched, and he kicked himself for adding to her fear.
Greatjob, asshole.
She nodded, then tucked her bare arms inside his vest. For warmth or comfort, he didn’t know. “Lead the way.”
After what felt like hours but had probably only been thirty minutes, he opened his mouth to break the silent trek. “How you doing, squirrel?”
Ostensibly, to ensure she was still with him but really because he wanted to know why she’d pulled away—or more accurately—how.
How she could kiss him like her life depended on it one minute and completely ignore the spark between them the next.
“Must you call me that?” The tone of her voice told him she’d probably rolled her eyes with the question.
His brain answered he could call her a great many things.Beautiful, baby . . .mine.But he wasn’t about to tellher. Not when she seemed determined to ignore the chemistry between them.
“Just making sure you’re awake back there.” His teasing smile fell as he tagged on, “We’ve got about eight hours until the sun rises.” Even if they walked all night, reachingthe safehouse on foot would still take themtwo full days.
Rogue was smart enough to figure it out on her own. He knew she didn’t need him saying it out loud.
“Have you heard anything from your contact? Because now would be a good time for a lift.” She tried to hide the nerves with sarcasm, but he was beginning to read her like a book.
The fact he could didn’t bring him any satisfaction. Not when her stress only made his own harder to tamp down. If they managed to walk the whole way, it was doubtful the team would still be at the safehouse when they arrived.
He wished he could contact them, but TOP had a protocol; they’d have already trashed the burners used for this operation. And with the company’s strict security rules, only their team lead, Victor, knew anyone’s personal numbers.
Which left him and Rogue screwed.
Frowning at the burner phone he hadn’t gotten rid of, Crane fired off a coded message to the contact who should’ve picked them upfrom the militants’ compound. He’d known the ex-Kuwaiti military member since his first tour in Iraq with the Army. Dafi had shucked his uniform and his country in favor of the almighty dollar. Money talked, and the man had never let Crane down . . . until now.
The continued silence meant his contact might beunableto answer instead ofunwilling.
Not happy with the realization, a weight settled on Crane’s shoulders, heavy enough that they threatened to droop. Gritting his teeth, he told her, “Not yet.”
They walked for another fifteen minutes without speaking, the Western Iraqi Desert stretching for miles on either side of them. In the dark, its vastness seemed to swallow any sound. The quiet unsettled him; it taunted—a stark reminder of how cut off they were. If other signs of life existed, he didn’t hear them.
They were truly on their own.
After their kiss, he had several ideas of things he and Rogue could do alone in the dark;thiswasn’t one of them. An overwhelming desire to ask her about it hithim. “Can I ask you something?”
“You do realize that question makes no sense, right?” He could almost hear her head shake. “You want to ask me something, then ask.”
But would she answer?
Only one way to find out.
He wished he could see her face but didn’t think she’d appreciate him shining the flashlight in it. Though his gut trembled with nerves, he took a deep breath and blew it out. He didn’t want to hand her his heart only to see it stomped all over.
Unconsciously, he ran a hand over his head before testing the waters. “Are you upset? About the kiss?”
“What?” Her sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not mad?” Fuck, his throat felt too tight. He swallowed to clear it. “That I kissed you?”
One second.
Two.
