Page 66 of Fighting for Scarlett

Instinct had him tightening his hold. “It could be a trap.”

The sassy woman rolled her eyes at him. “Of course, it’s a trap. I don’t need field experience to know that, but it’s also the only chance I might have to clear my name. My options are pretty limited, Tate. I can't hide forever, so my only choices are to get arrested and spend the rest of my life in prison for crimes I didn't commit or get abducted by Raul Castillo again and be tortured and then killed. This could be my only chance at getting ahead, at getting something that can be used so I don’t wind up dead or imprisoned.”

Could he risk Scarlett’s safety for a chance at getting answers?

Didn't seem like a good trade-off as far as he was concerned.

“You’ll be safe here until we figure this out,” he countered.

“I can't stay here indefinitely, and you know it. What if your team gets called out? You’ve already been blowing off PT to hide out with me. We need to do this to get ahead, Tate, you know it as well as I do. You said you don’t think less of me so show me that’s true. I know how to shoot, I know self-defense, and you're a SEAL. We can do this. I need to do this.”

Damn.

She knew just how to tug on his heartstrings.

This would be a big risk, and he wouldn’t have his team at his back. Raul Castillo was a dangerous man, and whether the mole was acting out of greed or being coerced, they had proven themselves to be dangerous as well.

Here was safe, but out there … was anything but.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

January 18th

8:36 A.M.

“This is the worst idea ever.”

Scarlett didn't look over to the driver’s seat where Tate was, her gaze instead fixed on the passing scenery. “Never said it was a good one, just that I was out of options.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“We’ve been over that.” Like a dozen times while they got dressed and did their best to disguise her so she wouldn’t be immediately recognizable. With the chilly morning, it wasn’t hard. She had on a big coat that pretty much covered her from ankles to neck and a scarf that basically covered half of her face. Unless you were looking directly at her and actually be looking for her, chances were you would have no idea who she was.

“I don’t like this.”

“You’ve told me.” And she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

Was he against this idea just because it was taking a huge risk, or was there more to it than that?

Was Tate secretly worried because he thought she was a liability?

Just because she didn't have anywhere close to the same level of field experience as he did—okay so she had one step up from zero—didn't automatically make her a liability.

While little Tate would have been playing with his friends and learning to tie his shoes, little Scarlett was learning self-defense and how to shoot a target with pinpoint accuracy. No, her skills didn't come anywhere close to his, but she wasn’t some completely helpless maiden in need of a knight on a white horse.

She’d killed one of Raul’s men.

She’d survived being tortured.

She was still standing when everything in her urged her to find a bed, curl up under the covers, and refuse to come out until this problem just disappeared.

“Hey.” One of Tate’s hands reached out to grasp one of hers. Although she kept it limp in his grip, his fingers managed to lace with hers anyway. “Can you look at me, Scarlett, please?”

The childish part of her wanted to say no. It wanted to pout and complain that he’d held her last night like she was a friend who needed comfort instead of the woman he said he was interested in. All night there hadn't been so much as a stray hand brushing against her breasts.

Nothing.

Nada.

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