~ Excerpt ~
She was halfway down the alley
after exiting through the back of the club when he grabbed her.
She swung around, ready for
battle.
It suited him down to the ground,
but he would not engage in a free-for-all here.
"Throw the switch on your unit."
He forced himself to step back. "And cool off."
"Cool—?" A gasp of disbelief.
Her eyes narrowed, but she complied with the transmitter. "You
ruined my op."
"It's not ruined. And it's not
your op."
"I was handling that loser."
"He had you trapped. He pulled a
blade on you." The memory of those fingers knotted in the fabric
between her breasts, the knife menacing, wouldn't leave him soon.
"I can defend myself."
"With room to maneuver, probably,
but the congestion hampered you. I couldn't risk it."
"You don't have to protect me.
I'm not fifteen anymore, Jesse."
"I know that." He did—it wasn't a
girl he was remembering. "I didn't break your cover. Or mine."
"We could still be in there
working if you hadn't waded in like some avenging angel."
That tore it. "Bullshit. You're
shaking."
"It's just adrenaline." She raked
unsteady fingers through her hair.
"You took chances tonight,
Delilah. You're trying too hard to draw attention, parading
yourself around—" The bastard pulled a knife on her.
Ruthlessly, he throttled the savagery bubbling just beneath the
surface. "I told you I don't tolerate cowboys on my team."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is that
what's going on here, Agent Montalvo?" Her voice dripped
contempt. "You've finally found your reason to ditch me?" She
closed the distance between them and stabbed a finger in his
chest. "I heard you and Doc today. Any excuse would work,
wouldn't it?"
He didn't respond.
"Wouldn't it?" Her voice rose.
She shoved, open palmed.
Her eyes were bright with tears,
her magnificent hair a wild gypsy nimbus around that face that
wouldn't stop haunting him. Her chest heaved with emotion, tender
flesh barely covered with fabric torn by a brute who had no right—
He grabbed the hand burning into
his skin, his control teetering on the naked, ragged edge of
yanking her close—
No. By the slimmest of margins,
he seized hold of himself. Barely...barely he leashed the beast
snarling to break free.
Grain by painstaking grain, he
rebuilt the wall of his detachment until he dared speak.
He skinned his shirt over his head
and handed it to her. "Go home, Delilah." His voice was barely a
whisper. "Now."
He flipped on his unit. "Bob."
"Yeah?"
"Come pick up Butler." His eyes
never left hers, so wide and confused, as he gave Bob directions
to their location.
"Be there in two minutes."
It was three.
Not that he was counting.
MOST
WANTED
