Page 23 of Fighting for Scarlett

That was the problem.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Can I pee first?”

Before he’d let her go to sleep, he’d made sure she was hydrated. He was surprised she’d managed to sleep for a few hours without having to get up given how much water she’d drunk.

Watching her guzzle down that water from his bottle, then lick the last drop off her plump bottom lip had thrown his system into a frenzy. His body had gone haywire, and all the blood had dropped south as he remembered those lips and what they felt like worshipping his body.

“Umm, you can stay close if you're worried about someone finding us,” Scarlett continued when he didn't answer.

It’s not Raul’s men I'm worried about, little traitor, it’s you doing a runner.

“Make it quick,” he snapped. When she didn't move, he growled, “Hurry up.”

Turned out it was only his common sense that was worried about her running because while he did stand, he didn't follow her as she scrambled to her feet and scurried off behind a tree.

Scarlett wasn’t going to run.

For all his talk of no longer trusting his instincts, he knew for certain she wasn’t going anywhere.

Maybe she honestly thought she was going to get away with this.

Less than a minute later, she popped back around the tree and stood there waiting for him. In his much too big for her small frame clothes, she should have looked ridiculous, but she didn't. She looked far too sexy for her own good.

It was a mile to the extraction point, and he’d already let her sleep later than he should. With the near-pitch darkness of the thick jungle, Scarlett was going to struggle to see where he was going without the benefit of the night vision goggles he was snapping on as he turned off the flashlight.

“I don’t have spare shoes, but you need something to cover your feet,” he muttered, irked that he cared about her comfort after what she’d done.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Scarlett assured him, but he ignored her and dug through his pack to find a spare pair of socks. Again, they’d be too big and wouldn’t offer much protection from the terrain, but they were better than nothing.

Once his pack was on his back and his weapon slung across his shoulder, he went to her and knelt at her feet.

She sucked in a breath as his hands swept across her ankle as he pulled a sock onto one of her feet. When he looked up at her, she was chewing on her bottom lip again, looking near angelic in the green glow of his NVGs.

Why did she have to act all sweet and innocent when he knew it was just that? An act.

Quickly, he slipped on the other sock and then stood. It would be hard walking side by side through the jungle, but he didn't want her behind him, and he was the one who knew where they were going so he had to lead.

With a sigh, he knew there was only one way they could do this even if he didn't want to.

“Hold onto my waistband,” he ordered, stepping in front of her. “And don’t let go.” Despite what he knew about her, he didn't want to shoot her if she tried anything stupid.

Not that it seemed she wanted to.

Scarlett quickly looped her fingers through his waistband and clung to him with such trust he once again was swamped by the feeling that this woman had no clue what she was in the middle of.

Not wanting to go over the same thoughts he’d had for hours as he watched Scarlett sleep, Tate set a punishing pace as they headed for the exfil location.

To her credit, Scarlett kept up despite the exhaustion that had only been kept at bay by her nap. She didn't complain or waste energy she didn't have peppering him with questions. Just trusted that he knew where he was going and would get her safely home.

Your trust is misplaced, sweetheart.

While he would get her home, she was hardly going to be safe once she got there. Given the charges she’d face, she would be held indefinitely without access to the usual safeguards for suspects. Scarlett would be living out the rest of her life behind bars in a maximum-security prison. If she was that lucky. Otherwise, she would be squirreled away at some black site hardly anybody knew about.

Feeling sorry for her was stupid. Nobody had forced her to make these choices, she’d known the risks and gone ahead anyway. There was not a single person Scarlett could blame for her predicament other than herself.

So why, when they reached a small clearing and he saw the helo sitting waiting for them, did he feel a rush of protectiveness?

Of pity for this woman’s fate?

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