“Letting me down that way.” She glared at him, but her expression was wounded.
Damn it. She was right. His hard-on was his own damn fault, but his jaw locked on the words of apology he knew he needed to say.
She made a dismissive motion with her hand and spun away from him, setting off for the compound at a trot. He followed her the whole way back, letting her set the pace because of her fatigue, but anger must have given her strength because he had to jog to keep up with her.
When they arrived at the compound, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder.
She went stiff. “What?”
He wasn’t angry with her. He was sexually frustrated, and it wasn’t her fault except that she was the object of his lust, and he could hardly blame her for that. She didn’t do anything on purpose to seduce his senses.
She didn’t have to.
“I’m sorry.” He could count on one hand the number of times he’d said those words in his life. The last one he could remember had been as he stood over his mother’s grave.
Her shoulders slumped. “It’s no big deal.”
He turned her around to face him and got a sucker punch to his gut at the sight of shimmering green eyes.
“It’s not your fault you set me off like a Roman candle.”
“I…what?”
“Never mind. Just try to forget about what happened back there.”
She nodded, about to turn away again when he remembered something.
“It’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, and it’s not your fault,” he repeated.
“I—”
“Come on, show me where this footlocker is kept.”
She let him direct her toward the burned building and then picked her way through the debris to an area on the far right. He didn’t know what had been there, but judging from what was left of the building, he guessed it was Tyler’s secret bedroom. She bent down and grabbed what looked like it might have been a metal plate and started digging the ashes out of an area. He looked around for something to help her with and found a helmet.
With both of them working, it didn’t take very long to dig down to where the floor had been. Under it was a rectangular sheet of composite, the lightweight but extremely sturdy stuff airplane floors were made out of. He’d used it himself in both Wolf’s and his homes’ designs.
The composite had two handles, and as she lifted it, he realized it was a door to an underground room.
A cement stairway led downward in the dark. Josie stepped on the first tread, but he grabbed her before she could take another step.
Chapter 3
“You don’t have a flashlight,” Daniel said to her. “Wait and I’ll get one from the SUV.”
“Don’t worry about it. There’s a light at the bottom of the stairs. Dad’s safety room has everything.”
Everything turned out to be a supply of weapons sufficient to equip a small force, lights, food, a bed, two chairs, small table and the infamous footlocker.
“What, was he preparing for Armageddon?”
Josie just shrugged. “Something like that. Dad didn’t trust the shirts in Washington to keep us out of war.”
That sounded like Tyler.
“Grab the journal and let’s go.”
She lifted the lid on the footlocker and pulled out a sealskin bag big enough to hold several journals.
“They’re in here. He didn’t say which one he wanted me to read, but he’s been keeping them as long as I can remember.”
“Do you need anything else from here?”
She didn’t answer, but took a minute choosing a selection of weapons, including a belt knife that had been clearly made for a woman. Tyler had said Josie wanted to leave the life of soldiering behind, but she had one final mission to carry out, and apparently, she intended being adequately armed for it.
“The rest should be safe if we bury the access again.”
He figured she was right, and they did just that, taking time to leave the debris looking like all the rest.
They were halfway down the mountain when he said, “You might as well get some sleep. We have to drive to my hotel so I can get my stuff before I can take you to your apartment.”
“You don’t have to take me. I can rent a car and drive myself.”
“Do you really think a small coastal town is going to have a car rental agency?”
“It’s not that small.” She bit her lip, obviously in thought. “I don’t think.”
“Look, I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself.”
“I’m a big girl.”
“Actually, you aren’t. You’re on the small size of average for a woman. It always puzzled me why you became a mercenary. You’d be at a major disadvantage during hand-to-hand combat.”
“I didn’t really have much choice, but as for proximity fighting, my dad taught me how to neutralize an adult male in one-on-one combat before I hit puberty.”
“Did he teach you the distinct disadvantages you faced in a hostile environment after it?”
“Men are more vulnerable than women, particularly women as boyish in their build as I am.”
“You aren’t shaped like a boy, and I wasn’t just talking about developing breasts.”
“Rape isn’t limited to women either.”
She was right, but her size ensured she would always be more at risk for that kind of thing than he was. She’d probably call him a chauvinist if he said so, but he was glad she’d chosen to leave the soldier for hire world behind.
Josie woke up as the big SUV came to a halt and its engine went silent. They were parked in front of a motel.
“It could take a few minutes. Do you want to come up or stay here?”
She still felt groggy, and her mind had a difficult time translating his words. “What…Oh, I’ll stay here.”
Her eyes slid shut again to the sound of his car door closing. The snick of locks going into place indicated he’d pressed the lock button for her safety.
A blast of cold air woke her again when he opened the door. Summer did not always mean warm sunshine on the Oregon coast, particularly in the morning. A cold wind kept things chilly until close to noon most days.
He tossed a duffel bag and a weapons case behind his seat before getting in. “I think we should get some breakfast before going to your place.”
She was so tired, the thought of food made her nauseous. “I’m not hungry.”
He reached out and cupped her nape.
The feel of his fingers against her skin shocked her into stillness. Nitro rarely touched anyone…except her, and inexplicably, he seemed to touch her all the time. But beyond that was the sheer physical sensation the slightest connection between them caused. In her vulnerable, just-woke-up state, it paralyzed her.
His thumb brushed against the underside of her jaw. “You’re pale.”
“I need more sleep.”
“No doubt, but you need to hydrate yourself, too. Especially after inhaling smoke.”
Come to think of it, her throat was pretty raw. She’d been too stressed to take stock of her aches and pains before now, but suddenly each discomfort was all too grating.
“I want a shower and clean clothes.”
His hand dropped away from her neck. “Hell, I should have thought of that before I checked out. You’ll have to wait until we get to your apartment.”
“House.”
