Page 33 of Croatia Collateral

She smiled at him. “You, too. And Dax... you’ve got this.”

“Let’s hope these people are slightly blind and a bit deaf.” He winked and reached for the doorknob. “I’d tell you not to follow me, but I know that’s a waste of words.” He gave her a crooked grin. “At least don’t let them see you following me.”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “I’ll be in stealth mode.” Yes, the smile was forced, but she didn’t want Dax to be worried about her when he had bigger problems.

Like making the other five of the Nexus Collective believe he was really Evan Maas.

Giva wanted to clutch his arm and tell him not to go. It was ridiculous to think he could pass himself off as Evan Maas. What if Evan was expected to know something critical about this meeting? If they asked Dax about that something and he gave them a blank stare, it would be over.

Then what?

Would they kill Dax?

Giva’s heart pinched hard in her chest. She couldn’t let that happen. She really liked the man.

But how would she stop them from killing the man who had melted her bones in a single kiss?

Only Dax could go into the meeting. If it was in dark catacombs beneath Old Town, and Dax got into trouble would his team find him in time to rescue the former Marine?

Well, hell. They were about to find out.

“Hey.” Dax cupped her cheek and gave her a crooked smile. “I’ve been in tighter situations. I’ll be all right.”

Tears welled in Giva’s eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.” He brushed an escaped tear from her cheek. “Soldiers don’t cry.”

“That’s bullshit,” she said and sniffed. “Don’t do anything stupid. No heroics. Just get in and get back out with the information we need.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said and brushed his lips across hers. He met her gaze, his face so close to hers, that she could see tiny gold flecks in his deep brown irises. “And the same goes for you. No heroics.”

“I’ll only do what it takes,” she said.

His frown deepened. “That doesn’t reassure me one bit.”

“I’ll be all right,” she said.

“I have to go,” Dax said.

“Then go.”

He chuckled. “I’d rather stay with you and test that mattress. Can I get a rain check?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “You just have to make it through the next few hours, get the data and get out.” Giva clapped her hands. “You can do it.”

“With incentive.” Dax grinned. “You must’ve been a cheerleader or a motivational speaker in your past life.”

She snorted. “More like a drill instructor. I didn’t know real motivation until a drill instructor stood in front of me on my first day of boot camp. He yelled at me for a full five minutes, that felt more like a lifetime. It motivated me to follow rules and get tough, so I wouldn’t have that DI up in my face ever again.”

“I know what you mean. I felt the same on my first day of Marine Corps boot camp. The point is, we lived through it and were stronger for it.” He chucked her beneath her chin. “Stay strong. I have a rain check I plan to claim when this is done.”

“You’re on,” Giva said and stood back as he left the room alone. She’d follow, but not so close anyone would notice and only after she loaded her backpack with the items she needed—the blacklight flashlight, for one. Dmytro hadn’t forgotten it. He’d left it on purpose. For her. She slipped her radio earbuds into her ears to keep in touch with Fearghas and Peter.

She pulled a sheath of three black, metal throwing knives from her backpack, lifted her pantleg and strapped the sheath to her ankle as Dax had done with the plastic blade.

She’d used the plastic knife on a couple of occasions. It had proved to be as sharp as the metal one. But she preferred metal for throwing.

Then she dug out the other sheath of three black, metal throwing knives out of her backpack and strapped the second sheath to her left forearm.

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