Page 22 of Edge of Danger

Jesus, that was too close. The embracing darkness of the stairwell wrapped around them. He listened tensely until he heard the vehicle rumble away into the night.

Safe. For now.

Piper panted against him and their chests collided as he, too, sucked wind. The deep silence of the thick walls around them was a shock to his senses after the chaos outside.

“We good?” she gasped.

“Yeah,” he replied, nearly as winded as she was. “Nice job out there.”

“Hark. Was that a compliment out of the badass commando?”

“Don’t make a big deal of it or I won’t give you any more.”

He felt her smile in the dark as warmth and amusement rolled off of her. An urge to pull her close and kiss that smile intooblivion nearly overcame him. But no, he was not going to repeat their last adrenaline-fueled hook up. He knew better.

But damn, he’d missed her.

Maybe he just missed human contact with someone who had something in common with him. The same language, the same country, the same political allegiance. But still. It didn’t hurt that a friendly face came packaged in such a sexy body that was all fiery female.

Mentally fighting a surreal battle with himself over sex or no sex, he climbed the staircase and unlocked the upstairs door, letting them into his abode.

Piper sighed in relief behind him. The soft sound fluttered down his spine like a lover’s touch. It was gentle and feminine in the midst of his hard-edged, razor-sharp world. Foreign. Fantastic. Frightening.

He felt as if he was falling in slow motion, gradually losing his mooring to reality. Women did not exist in his world, nor did he let outsiders of any gender into it. And yet, Piper was sliding past his defenses seemingly without effort, as easily as breathing. With each inhalation, he was drawing her a little deeper into his life. And it scared the living crap out of him.

They’d made it out of hell alive and cheated death. Moreover, they’d found each other again in the midst of the chaos. How many more miracles could one night serve up to them?

Piper was really getting tired of stumbling into the middle of freaking gun battles. And she was equally tired of being rescued by Ian McCloud. Not that she wasn’t grateful for the rescues, but she wasn’t exactly an amateur. She’d been an undercover field observer for the CIA for a few years, now. She’d just never worked in a place like Khartoum.

Most of her jobs to date had involved long hours staring through binoculars at low-value targets and days upon weeks of mind-numbing boredom. This place was anything but dull. And not just because Ian McCloud had blasted into her life like an erupting volcano and completely taken her by storm.

He was a problem on several levels. First, she hated the idea of not being able to take care of herself. She’d learned a long time ago the only person she could depend on was herself. People made promises they couldn’t or wouldn’t keep. Hearts got broken, and bad things happened to girls who trusted too much.

Second, her job was to be invisible. She’d been sliding around town giving vaccinations and vitamin shots to children, and no one had paid the slightest attention to her. She was just another goody-two-shoes NGO aid worker.

But Ian saw her with a clarity and completeness that was alarming. Most men didn’t give her the time of day. He’d not only stripped away the layers of her deceit, but he’d instantly recognized and exploited her emotional neediness. No other guy had gotten her remotely near a bed, let alone naked and screaming in one, almost before she knew his name. Ian McCloud’s ability to bust through all her defenses like they were flimsy toys scared her to death.

And now she was alone with him again. After nearly dying. Chock full of adrenaline and relief surging through her veins.And horny as heck, she reluctantly admitted to herself. Or maybe it was just the company that put her in such a state.

She let her Tavor rifle slide to the floor. Her ammo belt was abnormally light as she unbuckled it. She’d used most of the ammunition stored in it. It landed beside her weapon with barely a sound.

Ian moved around quietly in the unlit apartment and it dawned on her he must be using his night optical devices again.Frustrated at the thick darkness, she listened hard. It sounded like he was covering the windows.

A match flared. The gentle glow of an oil lamp flickered to life. She watched Ian replace its glass globe, and soft light diffused his hidey hole. Yup. Big pieces of plywood covered every window.

By lamplight his place looked mysterious. Exotic. Sensual. Of course, the warrior standing in the middle of the space might have a little something to do with that impression.

She watched, enthralled, as he pulled two glasses out of a cabinet and set them on the table. A liquor bottle thunked down beside them. He poured healthy shots of clear liquid in both glasses and handed her one. In honor of the vodka, she muttered in Russian, “Na zdorovye.”

“To your health as well,” he replied.

Spoke Russian, did he?

She slammed back the vodka, grimacing as it burned her esophagus from one end to the other. He held the bottle out and she held her glass up to him for a refill. She waited until he’d poured himself another shot, and they clinked glasses. She tossed back the second dose of liquid fire.

The first shot destroyed enough nerves to make this one go down considerably less painfully.

He held out the bottle questioningly, and she shook her head. “Are you trying to get me drunk, McCloud?”

---