She frowned. “Where is Garrett going?”
Garrett glanced at Sam and then back at Sophie. “Just a little fact-finding mission. I’ll meet up with you two at Eagle One.”
Sophie shook her head as if clearing the cobwebs as Sam helped her from the back of the SUV.
“What is Eagle One? Everyone keeps talking about it.”
“One of our safe houses,” Sam said.
He tucked her elbow into his palm and directed her toward the elevator.
“Act natural, Sophie. Smile. We don’t want to draw any undue attention.”
Twenty minutes later, Sam and Sophie exited through the passenger pickup and got into a cab. He directed the driver to a location just outside the downtown area and then sat back and pulled Sophie to him.
“Are you hurting?”
She shook her head against the crook of his arm. “I’m feeling much better. I’m hungry again, but I stay hungry these days.”
He smiled and automatically glanced down at her belly, which was pressed to his side.
“I’ll get you something to eat as soon as we’re on our way again.”
She didn’t question him further. Didn’t ask where they were going or how long it would take. She just settled against him and rested.
They got out of the cab, and Sam put Sophie into the front seat of a black Ford Expedition. Then he unlocked the back and pulled up the flooring to survey the small arsenal stashed there.
He holstered a Glock, popped the clip into one of the assault rifles, then pulled out the sat phone and a small GPS unit. He put the flooring back down and then walked back to get into the driver’s seat.
Sophie’s eyes widened briefly when she took in the rifle, but she didn’t say a word as he laid it barrel-down between their seats.
“We’re not going far today,” he told her as he cranked the engine. “I’ve sent Steele and his team ahead to recon. We’ll stay behind them until he gives me the all clear. Thought you might like hot food, a hot bath and a comfortable bed.”
Her hands shook in her lap and she looked up at him, her eyes stark and hollow.
“That would be absolutely wonderful.”
He reached for her hand, curling his fingers around hers as he pulled onto the highway. For a moment her hand lay limply in his, until finally she threaded her fingers tighter into his and held on.
THEY pulled into a roadside motel a few hours later. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it wasn’t a dive either. At the moment, Sophie didn’t care as long as nothing crawled on her and it had running water and a decent bed. In fact, the bed didn’t even have to be decent.
Surprisingly, she was pain-free, and she could actually move her arm in varying degrees without irritating her wound. She still ached from head to toe, but she was looser now, and if she could get another hot bath, it would go a long way in restoring her fortitude.
Sam returned with keys, and they walked to a room on the very end. The only suite the motel boasted, but it advertised a Jacuzzi tub, so she was all over that.
“I’ll run you a bath, and you can soak while I order food. Do you have a preference?” Sam asked. “I’ll get the bags out of the truck so you’ll have clean clothes to change into.”
Her brow crinkled. “Bags? We didn’t bring any bags.”
He smiled. “Taken care of.”
Her mouth gaped open. “But how?”
“Always pays to be prepared.”
She shook her head. He was feeding her a line of crap. Someone had to have packed the truck for them. Probably one of his many team members.
“Come on. I’ll help you into the tub and then leave you to it,” he said as he guided her toward the bathroom.
She stopped and put a hand on his arm. “I can do it. I’m okay.”
He stared at her a moment, then nodded. “Okay then. I’ll take care of the bags and getting food.”
She didn’t spend as much time in the tub as she had at Sam’s mom and dad’s. She could hear him outside the bathroom, and she was filled with a restless urgency to get back to him.
Other than stiffness and a little residual soreness, her wound didn’t bother her as much as she had thought it would, given that she’d been shot. She tested the ridge of the stitched seam with her fingers and examined it in the mirror. It was slightly puckered, a little swollen around the sutures, but there was no angry redness to denote infection. Those antibiotic shots Donovan had given her had done the trick.
She towel-dried her hair and then realized that Sam hadn’t brought in a change of clothes for her. Her baggy pants and T-shirt lay on the floor soaking up the water she’d dripped from the shower.
With a sigh, she wrapped a towel around her and cracked open the bathroom door. She didn’t see Sam, so she pushed farther into the room, craning her neck to see around the doorway.
She saw Sam the same time he looked up and saw her. There was a spark in his eyes, and he quickly looked away but then lifted his gaze once more as if he couldn’t resist.
“I uhm don’t have any clothes,” she murmured.
He moved to the bed and rummaged in one of the bags there before pulling out a pair of jeans, underwear, and a shirt. He circled around the end of the bed and stalked toward her with purposeful steps.
She almost backed away. She felt small and vulnerable, and he was looking at her just like he’d looked at her all those nights they’d spent in another hotel.
He stopped just a foot in front of her, so close that his heat reached out and circled her like the damp towel she wore so close to her breast.
The clothes were in his hand, but he didn’t move to give them to her and she didn’t reach for them.
His gaze was so intense. So penetrating. She felt naked. So itchy and alive. She swallowed, but nothing she did ridded her of the knot in her throat. It ached like she ached.
The clothes dropped silently to the floor. His hands cupped her bare shoulders. His fingers caressed her skin.
Slowly and with infinite tenderness his mouth descended over hers. His breath danced across her skin, and then he captured her lips in a long, hot kiss. Time melted away like ice on a summer day. She was back in his arms in the hotel room where they met after she left the bar each night.
He’d always waited for her, pulling her into his arms as soon as she walked through the door. Their clothes flew and they reacted desperately to the passion that existed between them.
She’d give anything to go back to those precious nights she’d spent in his arms. But she’d always known she couldn’t have forever.
Yet now, under the heat of his lips, she clung to him, wanting him so badly that the ache far surpassed the pain of her injuries.
He jerked away and took a step back, running his hand through his hair in agitation. “Goddamn it, Sophie. What you do to me.”
Her lips pursed and she stared at him, hoping he’d shrivel under the force of her glare.
“I didn’t make you kiss me. You wanted me every bit as much as I wanted you. Don’t make excuses. Shut up and take responsibility.”
He lifted one eyebrow and then his gaze smoldered. He took a step forward, and she instinctively backed away.
His hands smoothed up her shoulders, carefully skimming over her bandaged arm, until he cupped her face in his palms.
“You’re absolutely right,” he murmured. “I’ll own up to the fact that right now I want to make love to you more than I want anything else. It’s stupid. Insane, even, but there you have it. For now I’ll take responsibility for the fact that I’m going to kiss you again.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat just as his lips descended again. She melted into his arms, giving herself fully to his embrace.
A low moan rose from her throat, swelling painfully before it rushed into his mouth. She wanted to touch him, to hold him against her, to know that nothing bad would ever happen to her while she was in his arms.