Page 33 of Flint's Battle

Pounce, maybe, though she wasn’t in any condition for that, either. But damn, if her pupils hadn’t eclipsed all but a ring of green as her breathing kicked up. And not like it had earlier,when she’d been recovering. Probably trying to get her lungs to work right after filling with water. This was pure heat.

He chuckled as he leaned in. “It’ll be a while before you’re up for what’s staring back at me. But I love that you’re already thinking about it.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Moana, Mia and Dahlia crowding the doorway. Smug smiles tilting their lips as they openly watched his and Emery’s interaction. “Guess your crew wants a turn, huh?”

Emery gave them a quick side eye then moved in for another kiss. “They can wait one more minute.”

This one was deeper. Bordering on carnal. Like on the beach before he’d nearly lost her. She traced his lips after she’d eased back. “I don’t suppose you could sneak in a caramel latte?”

He laughed, pushing to his feet as he headed for the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Or…” She tilted her head to the side. “You could just help me bust out of here. Quinn’s right. Security isn’t going to be easy if you’re concerned there might be another attempt.”

That cooled some of the need coursing through his veins. Had him laser focused, again. “Oh, they’ll be another attempt. That wasn’t some gang banger or a pissed off dealer. Someone hired a professional, and from my experience, they don’t generally stop until the job’s done.”

“All the more reason for me to leave.”

That voice in his head was screaming its agreement. Securitywasa nightmare. Hell, he’d already tackled an orderly who had mistakenly entered the room before Milligan had gotten an officer posted at the door. But Flint wasn’t taking any chances.

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to move you, it’s…”

She leaned back. “And I thought Moana was the worrier. Extra caramel, please. I’ve earned it.”

“Anything for you.”

Moana hitched out a hip when only Carter and Quinn joined Flint at the door. “Seriously? We can’t talk about you, Flint, with Bowie in the room.”

Flint arched a brow. “Talk about me?”

“What did you think we wanted to talk about?” Moana rolled her eyes. “We’ll leave the depressing stuff to you guys. Sheesh, it’s like you’ve never even had a girlfriend before.”

Flint gazed over at Emery. “Not like this. And Bowie’s here for everyone’s protection.”

“There’s three of us, a cop outside the door and no external windows.”

Bowie shouldered up beside Flint. “I think we can give them five minutes, yeah?”

Flint frowned. “Do you know how much could happen in five minutes?”

“Of course, I do. I’ve been on the same missions, jackass. But no pro is going to whack four women with a cop outside. Or kill a cop in a hospital that’s brimming with other cops. Especially when Quinn and the others nearly caught the bastard. Any move he makes is going to be very well orchestrated. At worst, he’d try to kidnap her — so he could do the deed some place far more removed.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

The officer at the door — Ryan Bates — held up a clipboard. “I won’t let anyone inside who isn’t on the list Captain Milligan gave me. All people who’ve been vetted. You have my word.”

“Flint.”

He snapped his focus to Emery and god, she was beautiful. Bruised. Exhausted and only a shade up from a ghost. But she took his breath away. “Emery.”

“We’ll be okay for five minutes. And I really don’t want to have to kick Bowie’s ass when he undoubtedly repeats whatever I’m going to say about you. So…”

“That damning, huh?”

“They’ll probably suggest I get committed.”

Flint warred with the ice sluicing through his veins and wanting to keep that smile on her face. “Five minutes. You all better talk fast.”

He held the door for his buddies, taking one last look inside — scanning the entire room in case he’d somehow missed a tango hiding in the corner. Or skulking under one of the machines.

---