Page 28 of Chasing Grace
He dumped the contents of her backpack onto the floor, and a groan from the corner froze him in place. Gray had refused to share any information regarding her assignment, and she’d stab him in the neck for sure if she caught him pilfering through her things.
When she pulled the blanket under her chin, exposing her backside to the cool air, his shoulders dropped with relief, and his cock twitched in appreciation.
Hello, spectacular ass.
The temptation to rush to her, to touch her skin, and cover her again, had his leg muscles bunching. He didn’t know why, but everything in him wanted to take care of this woman. However, before he could even consider starting something with Gray, he had some things to deal with first, including finishing his search.
With some effort, he pulled his gaze free and refocused on the mess at his feet.
Aside from the usual crap people lugged around in backpacks, she had an older model camera that had seen better days. At some point during the misadventures of the last twelve hours, the lens had shattered, and the back cover had popped open, the film cartridge spilling its guts. Obviously, not the camera she’d used earlier.
He put things back and turned to the duffel. These contents were definitely a biohazard, but this bag didn’t hold what he was after either. He wanted the memory card from her digital camera, a flash drive, a notebook. Something that gave him some clues.
Hell, at this point, he’d settle for an encrypted message inked on toilet paper. Instead, he discovered a wrinkled Oscar the Grouch T-shirt and a package of black Jockey underwear missing the one pair he currently had his eyes on.
He shook his head and decided to do a quick search of both bags again. A professional used to high-stress situations, no chance Gray had left yesterday’s pictures in her camera. A final rummage confirmed she wasn’t big on doing laundry, or keeping track of her cash, but he didn’t uncover anything useful.
In the poor light, he must be missing a hidden pocket. Better to search again when he could see straight. Joints popping, he stretched to his full height and checked his watch. The luminous hands reminded him he couldn’t let her sleep much longer. They needed to be on the move, and he had a status update to send as soon as they were in range of a signal.
Damn it.Colonel Grayson was going to have his head on a platter for bringing Gray to Palo Pinto. Didn’t matter. Chase wouldn’t rest easy until he had her safe and surrounded by the JTT. His teammates would have his back, and by extension hers, and thank God, because by now, Sam Black and his men would know who she was and where she lived.
No doubt about it, they’d be coming for her.
When he couldn’t fight the urge to touch her a second longer, he crossed the small space and ran the tips of his fingers down the slope of her back. Her skin felt cold and smooth, the knobby bones of her spine prominent. She sighed as his fingers reached the end of their journey, and he hesitated, not wanting to take his hand from her.
In a daze, it took him a moment to realize the tremble he felt came from her shivering. Her discomfort snapped him back to reality, and he reached over her shoulder to coax the blanket free.
She didn’t stir as he covered her with the heavy wool, and unable to resist, he brushed a wayward curl from her face. She smiled briefly, another hint of the vulnerability she kept buried creeping to the surface.
If Chase hadn’t been watching her sleep, he would’ve missed it altogether.
Gray openedher eyes as the muted light of dawn crept into the room. Lying facedown on the lumpy mattress, her hip throbbed to the beat of her heart, an immediate reminder she wasn’t in her happy place.
Honestly, she didn’t have one, but if she did, it wouldn’t be here. In a cold cabin. In the middle of buttfuck-nowhere, with a militant, capable-handed bastard who broadcast his hurry to leave with a heavy foot.
Warm enough under the blanket, she had no desire to go anywhere fast. However, Chase had other plans, and he telegraphed his intentions by pacing around the room and packing his gear. “Five more minutes, Gray.”
Five more minutes.How many times had he said that to her last night?
Snapshots of the long hike and snippets of short conversation came back to her like reels of film through a haze of pain. If not for the rumble of his voice and the strength of his grip, she wouldn’t have made it.
“Step here. Watch that. Drink this. Arms up.” Hadn’t he called her baby too? Yeah, if she concentrated, she could still feel his hands, leading her to the cabin, removing her wet clothes, and drying her off.
At the very end, both hands had been hot on her bare skin, holding her up.
It was the last thing she remembered.
Well, that and the fact she’d gone ballistic.
He’d stalked her around the cabin, his anger rising to match her own until finally, he’d reached his limit, and those hands had balled into fists. Fine by her. She needed him to be angry. Chase thought she had information pertinent to his investigation, or operation, or mission.
Or whatever the fuck he called it.
Bottom line, he planned to keep her until she spilled her beans.
Even if she told him the truth about who she was and how little she knew, he wouldn’t believe her anyway. His type never did.
Unfortunately—for him—she had places she needed to be. Specifically, in Miami, with Tara, by noon tomorrow. Yep. The only way Rambo would let her go was if she made him angry enough to make it happen.
