Page 22 of Afraid to Hope

He chased his pastry down with a swig of tea and wiped his mouth, volleying back, “Well, sweetheart, neither do I. But it’s part of our assignment. We have big dangerous fish to catch and fry. Don’t fuck it up. There’s too much at risk, as in me and you.”

“I don’t fuck up anything,” she huffed, bending over, getting in his face, her narrowed eyes flashing silver.

Bane smiled, enjoying himself. He baited her some more. “You get me stirred up when you get all feisty on me. It’s sexy as hell to this Indiana boy.”

“Dammit to hell. Just stop.”

Bane opened his mouth to respond, then thought better of it and wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and had another cup of tea. The wall clock ticked in the silence until the knocker resonated back to the kitchen. He put his dishes in the sink and grinned at her. “Time to leave, grumpy.”

She didn’t respond, but her fiery temper licked at him.

He exited at a jog, still grinning, calling over his back, “I still think you need to get laid.”

Natasha’s sandals slapped the tiled floor behind him. Bane opened the door and ducked sideways as a plate whizzed past his ear. Simon caught it midair like a Frisbee, his expression indicating he had heard some of the exchange. “It seems you’re having a rough start to your morning, Bane.”

“Morning, Simon. Something like that,” Bane said, laughing on his way out the door.

Natasha yanked her tote from the bottom of the stairs and pulled her sunglasses down from her hair and over her eyes.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

“Good morning. He’s an incorrigible ass, Simon.” Natasha’s lips compressed in a hard line.

Simon smiled tightly. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“I’ll sit in back,” she said, locking the front door.

“I’m sorry, but that seat has already been taken.” Simon inclined his head toward the car.

Bane filled the back seat. Frustration bubbled up in Natasha. She did not relish having him behind her. The man drove her mad. With any luck, he would leave her the hell alone. She was wound tight from a lack of sleep and unwelcome erotic dreams and was not in the mood for his brand of flirting.

Bane tapped on Natasha’s shoulder from the back seat. She refused to turn around; the last thing she wanted to do was to get lost in those eyes of his.

She kept her voice even, all too aware that Simon was finding their tension amusing. “Can I help you, Bane?”

“We didn’t go over the information again as requested by Emmet.”

Natasha responded once she was sure she could sound civil. “I did. All by myself. I didn’t see how it was necessary to do it with you.” She tapped on her temple. “I’ve got it all in here.”

“I’m not confident you can pull it off. My ass on the line.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“Just making sure you heard me.”

She let that comment pass.

“Earth to Nat,” Bane called loudly from the back, interrupting her thoughts.

It’s Natasha.She remained silent, thinking, watching more sand-colored buildings appear among the scruffy vegetation and trees anchored in the sloping hills bordering the road on the outskirts of Rabat.

“Fine. Ignore me. Thanks for having my back, partner,” he scoffed.

Decision made, she inhaled deeply. She was going to dive in. “’Scuse me, Simon.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and balled up her skirt, tucked it between her legs, then carefully crawled over and none too gracefully face-planted herself in Bane’s crotch, her butt and legs akimbo. Simon whipped the car safely to the shoulder. Traffic sped by as Natasha scrambled to get off Bane’s lap.

Glee and a blinding smile replaced Bane’s initial surprised expression. “You decided to join me.”

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