Promises (17 page)

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
 
Grinning, he took hold of her outstretched hand.

“And don’t touch me.”
 
She jerked away, taking several steps backward.

The fear emanating from her was palatable.
 
She was putting up a big front of strength when the whole time she was quaking inside.
 
More than anything, he wanted to pull her into his arms, but she was afraid of more than just Steele, and so was he.
 
This thing hovering between them was powerful.

He sighed, and held up his hands.
 
“I promise not to touch you.”
 

She folded her arms beneath her breasts.
 
“Where have I heard that one before?”

Grinding his teeth, he spun away.
 
Her remark hit home.
 
“I’ll get the bags,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

Didn’t she have any idea what he was going through?
 
That the slightest touch of her soft skin nearly sent him over the edge?
 

She should be afraid.
 
Very afraid, because he had no idea how he was going to make it through another day or night without losing the fragile hold he had on his self-control.
 
Demanding he not touch her, although he’d sworn he wouldn’t, was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
 
Good thing he wasn’t a bull, although the ache below his belt begged to differ.
 
But it was more than that.
 
A whole lot more.

“You can’t have her, idiot,” he grumbled, snatching their bags.
 
“No matter what you think you feel.”

Bobbi examined the room as quickly as she could before he came back.
 
The bathroom window was useless.
 
The glass blocks let in plenty of light, but were permanently cemented in place.
 
The only way out would be through the front door.
 

Perhaps while he slept, she’d be able to sneak out.
 
The keys.
 
She’d need to steal the keys to the Jeep.
 
But where to go?
 
She couldn’t go back to the cabin nor could she go back to her empty apartment in Charleston.
 

“Here,” Travis snarled, as he dumped her bag on the bed.
 
“You get first shot at the bathroom.”
 
He dropped his small duffel on the chair next to the window and rummaged through it.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed with you.”
 
She’d never be able to sneak out of that tiny double bed without waking him up.
 
If only she could convince him to get another room.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.
 
You needn’t worry about your virtue, Miss McBride.
 
It’s perfectly safe with me.”

She glowered at his broad back.
 
His grouching only proved his manly pride had been bruised.
 
Served him right.
 

Ignoring him, she snagged a few essentials from her bag then locked herself in the bathroom.
 

With both their nightly routines taken care of, they settled down for the night, neither saying a word.
 
Lying in the lumpy bed, she couldn’t shake the odd sense of disappointment from his adamant pledge that her virtue was safe.
 
The lustful imp inside her yearned for his touch, but she hammered the feeling down along with the pillow beneath her head.
 
She wasn’t a virgin anyway.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

Why did he have to speak?
 
Why couldn’t he simply go to sleep and quit reminding her of how his lips felt, how his arms felt, how much she wanted him?
 

She rubbed at her temples.
 
“I’m fine.”

“With all that tossing and turning I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s a lumpy mattress and the pillows are too hard.”
 
She punched the offending object again.

“And the floor’s any better?”

She didn’t answer, afraid she’d end up inviting him to join her.
 
But would he accept?
 
Stifling a growl, she concentrated on escape instead of the shiver of longing running through her.
 

Several minutes later, she heard the first sign of his deep even breathing, her signal to make a break for freedom.
 
Slipping out from under the covers, she eased her feet down to the floor.

A powerful hand wrapped around her ankle, and she bit back a shriek.

“Going somewhere?”

“I told you not to touch me.”
  
Did she sound tough?
 
She certainly didn’t feel tough.
   

His hand fell away from her ankle.

Although glad he had let go, her heart felt a distinct pang of regret.
 
What she really wanted was for him to pull her down to the floor and hold her like he had the night they slept beside one another.
 
A night that seemed so long ago when in reality it was only a few days.

“Get back in bed.”

His gruff voice tossed cold water on her annoying memories.
 
“I have to go to the bathroom.
 
Do you mind?”
 

“Just watch where you step.
 
I wouldn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”

Oh, she’d definitely bruised his pride by the sound of his sarcasm, but he only had himself to blame.
 
He was the one who said he wouldn’t touch.
 
She merely called him on it.

Taking careful steps not to tread on him, she made her way to the bathroom.
 
How much longer would it be before he fell asleep?
 
She’d made her first mistake by trying to sneak out too soon.
 
Now he’d be waiting for her to make her next move.

After a few wasted minutes in the bathroom, she went back to bed and waited.
 
And waited.
 
And waited.
 
Until finally, she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer.

A streak of sunlight brought Bobbi out of a deep and dreamless sleep.
 
She arched her back with a hearty stretch, feeling fully refreshed.
 
She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since she found Travis on her living room floor.
 
It was a welcome change.
 
The long hours on the road were probably the reason she’d slept so soundly.
 
It certainly wasn’t the mattress.

She bolted upright in the bed.
 
A quick glance around the room reminded her of where she was.
 
Where she didn’t want to be.
 
The sound of running water pulled her attention to the bathroom door.
 

Travis was taking a shower.
 
That opened up a wellspring of images, but she promptly shoved them aside.
 
This would be her only chance.
 
She threw back the covers, leapt out of bed, and quickly dressed.
 
Hurrying toward the door, she snatched up her bag.
 

Damn.
 
The keys
.
 

She dashed back to the dresser where she’d seen Travis drop them.
 
They scraped against the old veneer as she scooped them up and made a beeline for freedom.
 

Her hands shook so badly, she wasted precious time fumbling with the chain before finally getting the door open.
 
With one foot out and one foot in, her body suddenly jerked backward, and she found herself pinned against the open door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he hissed.

“I
—
I
—
” She was thoroughly tongue-tied.
 
She’d seen him before without a stitch of clothes on, but his nearly naked body speckled with droplets of water stole all cognitive thought.
 
She couldn’t pull her gaze from the tiny rivulets weaving a path down to the towel wrapped around his waist.

He pressed closer, his bare chest mere inches from her face.
 
She could smell the rich clean scent of his skin.
 
He’d shaved off the scruffy beard, and for the first time since he’d reappeared in her life, she could see all of his handsome face.
 
She wondered what his kiss would feel like now without the scratch of whiskers.

“Stop looking at me like that, bright eyes.”

Her gaze shot up to his at the deep husky sound of his voice.
 
His fathomless deep blue eyes darkened with passion, pulling her in.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered then took full possession of her mouth.

The feel of him, the smell of him, all of him drove every rational thought from her mind.
 
She didn’t want freedom, she wanted to be possessed.
 
Possessed by him.
 

His hands slid along the edges of her body, arousing her beyond anything she’d ever known.
 
God, how she wanted him.
 
All of him.
 
No matter the consequences, no matter how much it would hurt later, and he wanted her.
 
The evidence of his desire pressed firmly against her stomach.

Her hand still clutching her duffel bag went limp and dropped it to the floor.
 
Both hands free to explore, she let her fingers drift through the mass of dark hair on his chest.
 
So much softer than she remembered when she’d checked him for ticks, but that had been a clinical examination, and clinical this was not.
 

Skimming across every muscle, she took delight in his sudden intake of breath as her fingernails grazed his hardened nipples.
 
Sliding his knee in between her legs, he cupped her bottom with his strong hands and lifted her.
 

She moaned as the heated apex of her thighs pressed against his warm rigid sex.

“Mornin’,” a craggy voice said, splintering their passion.
 
“Y’all folks enjoying your stay?”
 
An old woman with a squeaky cart pushed passed them along the sidewalk.

Travis grabbed Bobbi’s arm and shoved her back inside.
 
With a curt good morning to the maid he slammed the door.
 
The old woman’s cackle broke through the sound of blood pounding in his ears.
 

“Damn it!”
 
He’d done it again!
 
He let his attraction to Bobbi interfere with his job, with her safety.
 

He raked his fingers through his hair, nearly pulling it out.
 
They could have been killed standing in the doorway like that.
 
How the hell was he supposed to keep her safe if an old woman with an obnoxious squeaky cart could get the drop on him?
 

Bobbi could be in Steele’s hands right now, and it would be his fault.
 
Except she wasn’t in Steele’s hands, she was in his or she had been, and he wanted her there again.

He looked across the room at her silent, quivering body.
 
Was it a result of the explosive passion they had shared or did she realize how close they’d come to being a target?

“Are you all right?”
 
He practically growled the question, not having regained complete control.
 
He still wanted her more than his next breath.

She nodded.

“What just happened shouldn’t have,” he said flatly.

Crossing her arms, she took a deep breath and tilted up her chin.
 
“No.
 
It shouldn’t have.”

Good.
 
Back to cool and distant.
 
Exactly what he needed to regain his focus.
 
Just a few more hours and she’d be someone else’s responsibility.
 

Snatching up her bag from the floor, he dropped it on the bed.
 
“You want to tell me where you were going in such a hurry?”

Calmly, she sat down on the bed and removed her shoes, placing them neatly beside one another on the floor.
 
“Out.
 
Away from you.”

A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest.
 
He turned around, yanked open his bag, and pulled out a fresh pair of jeans.
 
“Unless you want an eye-full, I suggest you go in there.”
 
He gestured to the bathroom, not intending to leave the sneaky little witch alone for one second.

With a huff, she grabbed her bath items, and slammed the door.
 

He quickly pulled on his pants.
 
“Just a few more hours.
 
That’s all.
 
She’ll be out of your hair and out of your life.
 
You’ll both be better off that way.”
 
Although his heart didn’t exactly agree with him.
 
Those little cracks seemed to be growing with every passing hour.

She emerged from the bathroom several minutes later her skin still flushed a faint shade of pink from the shower.
 
Her entire body was probably that color, he thought, then closed his eyes against the vision.
 

Just a few more hours
.

“I refuse to go a safe house,” she said.

He wasn’t up for another battle with her and remained silent.
 

“Jason told me he suspected someone at the Bureau of working for Steele,” she said.
 
“If I go to a safe house, they’ll find me.”

He ignored the faint chill slipping down his spine.
 
More plants, more bad agents, he really needed to find a new career.