Page 37 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

He couldn't think about that now. He couldn't think about how close that knife had been to her throat, how easily she could have died in front of his eyes. He couldn't let himself admit, yet, how he had nearly failed her.

He slowed down and the cars behind him passed. He sped up and they fell back. There was no sign that he had been followed, that anyone cared one way or the other about the gray extended-cab pickup heading for the next off-ramp.

The assailant in Morganna's room had been sloppy, but that didn't mean he couldn't track her and Clint. The only thing that had saved Morganna was that her attacker hadn't expected a fight. He had expected a victim. And he hadn't expected Clint. The advantage of surprise had been on their side. This time.

"If I had lost you ..." He swallowed tightly, his throat tightening at the thought as her hand tightened on his knee. "I'm okay." But she was still shaking; her voice quivered. "A miracle." He kept driving. He knew where he was going, but he was determined to take his time getting there.

"Well, I have to admit, it wasn't looking good there for a minute." Her laugh was shaky as she rubbed her cheek against his thigh.

His teeth clenched at the vibration of pleasure that echoed into his rapidly aroused cock. God, he couldn't even keep his head out of his pants long enough to get her to safety.

This was one of his greatest nightmares, that his need for her, his hunger, would affect his better judgment, his training. At the moment, all he could think about was getting her to a hotel, locking the world behind them, and sinking into the soft, blistering heat between her thighs. He had to assure himself she was alive, breathing, whole.

He wanted to hear her scream for him. He wanted to taste the sweet, soft syrup that ran from that tight pussy and become drunk on the taste of her.

He licked his lips, tightened his hand on the wheel, and made another turn. His gaze was never still; his mind assessed every vehicle he passed, every flash of headlights in his rearview mirror. His senses were as alert now as they were in full combat mode, despite the arousal. At least so far.

"Why did you come into the house? I thought you were leaving." She suddenly asked the question he was hoping she wouldn't think of.

Clint inhaled roughly. He could feel the invisible bands of steel tightening around him with the knowledge that it didn't matter what he had told himself over the years. He couldn't walk away from her.

"It's a good thing I did," he grunted, his fingers luxuriating in her thick mass-of curls. "You were holding your own, baby, damned good. But he was better than you."

"No kidding," she sighed. "But you didn't answer my question."

Silence filled the truck then. He made another turn as he leaded back to the interstate.

"I couldn't walk away," he finally breathed out roughly. "I couldn't."

"Why?"

He knew what she needed to hear, knew what she wanted. He glared at the signs along the interstate that pointed him to his destination.

"I can't answer that, Morganna," he breathed out roughly. "You were right earlier, though. You deserve better. But maybe, we both deserve to know where this could go, too."

She stiffened for a second before he felt her inhale deeply. The tremors still raced through her body, but they were no longer shudders; she was no longer fighting to breathe from terror.

"And the operation?"

He snarled silently. "We'll work together. You were right about that, too; it wasn't fair to take it from you. But you'll follow my rules, my direction. Period."

"You mean that?" The vulnerability in her voice tore at his heart. God, how cruel he had been to her. He had hurt her in so many different ways that her voice echoed with distrust.

"I mean it, baby." He shook his head as he drove into the enclosed parking garage attached to the Sheraton. "Come on. Let's get a room and see if we can figure out what the hell is going on here."

He pulled the truck into one of the upper-level parking spots, a shadowy corner with the elevator and stair entrance shielding it from oncoming vehicles.

"Stay put a minute." He slid from the cab, reaching into the back and pulling free the emergency duffel bag he kept there.

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and replaced it with the one in the duffel, then pulled the extra license plate from inside and moved to the rear of the truck. A quick change and he was back to the cab and storing the old plate beneath the seat.

"Interesting." She was staring back at him with wide, stormy eyes.

"It should be effective." He shrugged. "They're looking for Fulton County tags, not Cobb. Ready?"

He ran his gaze over her intently. There was no blood, a few scratches, and .one of the most gorgeous bodies he had ever seen dressed in leather.

Smooth sun-kissed flesh that he knew needed no sun to darken it. Long, loose curls twisted down her back, fell around her shoulders. And those breasts cupped by leather and held in place by the flimsiest ties were enough to send his blood pressure rocketing. The soft rise of the flesh over the cups tempted him, drew him until his head lowered and he heard her gasp as he breathed a kiss over the closest one.

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