Page 56 of Agent Zero
“Okay.”She hugged herself, cupping her elbows.Was it the cold, or had his traitorous face showed something?“I’m sorry, I just wanted out of the car.I know you said not to.”
Christ.“It’s all right.”Nothing in his throat would work right.“Really.Let me grab the key.”
* * *
Enough wood to get them through the night, and the deep pump was still functional.It only took a bit of monkeying around and waking the thing up before he was rewarded with a low hum.The former owner of this place had been a survivalist, and had sunk plenty of cash into getting a source of weak but useful off-the-grid electricity.The geothermal would even heat the shower water; no doubt Holly would be glad about that.
He locked everything up nice and snug.It would take a little while for the power to steady out and they’d have to run the water for a bit to clear the pipes, but all in all, it wasn’t bad.
Holly had lit a candle in the kitchen and was rummaging in the grocery bags.“You have a fridge, but I suppose with the power out we can put stuff outside to?—”
He flicked the switch, and the pale glow from a single overhead bulb made her laugh with delight, the sound shivering all over him.Her breath plumed, mostly because the door was open to stage the rest of the supplies in.The car was safely in the shed, next came the goddamn fire and warming her up.The geothermal would also raise the temperature in here, but too slowly.Plus, why make it work that hard?
“You’re a magician.”She actually grinned, and the aforesaid fridge—a small antique white enamel number—clicked into humming life.“This is amazing.”
“Good place to go to ground.”Once we leave we can’t come back, if there’s an agent tracking us.“Where’d you put the matches?”
“Oh, right here—” When she turned around again, she flinched, probably because he’d moved too quickly.
Again.
“Wow.”She held up the cardboard box, shook it a little.“This means I can actually cook, too.If that range is functioning.”
“Should be.There’s no oven, though.”The goddamn rock was back in his throat.“Sorry.I don’t mean to scare you.”That’s the very last thing I want.
“You don’t.”Very softly.She probably wasn’t aware she was lying, but he could smell the fear on her.Keyed up and nervous, adrenaline a hot copper thread running through.“I mean...I trust you.”
The yellow-metallic tang rasped against his palate, and that made him uneasy.His gloved fingers touched hers, sliding the matches free.“Good.”So close he could feel the heat she gave off, the warm draft of her breath, hear her pulse rise again.A pleasant rasp of arousal sliding through her scent; she leaned over that invisible line, judged by fingertips and skin response, that separatedfriendfrommore than friend.
If it hadn’t been so cold he might have lost it right there, again.Instead, he froze, trying to think of what to do next.
She went up on tiptoes, her gloved hand sliding around the back of his neck, and her gentle irresistible pressure made him bend forward.Her lips pressed against his scratchy cheek, a soft fiery kiss.
Her fingers slid away, and she sank back onto her heels.The shakes going through him made it hard to straighten, and the ache below the belt wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.
“I, ah.”Reese had to search for words.“Should get a fire started.”
“Yeah.”She turned away, peering into the closest grocery bag.“I should wash some dishes.You have dishes here, too?”
“I don’t know.”About all he’d done was sleep on the couch and chew an energy bar after he’d signed the papers and gotten the key.It had been a full four days off the grid to close the sale, well worth the stern talking-to Bronson dished out plus the double round of ridiculous tolerance tests afterward.“I’m, um.Yeah.Just going to get us closed up and a fire.”
“Okay.”She kept digging in the bags and opening cupboard doors.Playing house.Another woman might be snotty about the lack of comfort, or angry at him, or any of a thousand things.Holly just got to work.
It took another few seconds for his head to clear.The shaking went down, and he told the ache in his pants to go away.It probably wouldn’t listen, but at least he was making the effort.
She kissed me.It wasn’t until he had nursed a handful of tinder into a respectable flame and started building a proper fire up that he realized he was grinning like an utter fool.
THIRTY-FOUR
Trinity kept her head down,pacing behind Bronson and Caldwell.The tension had broken, the reek of relief spreading from both of them matched only by the smell of a bacon double cheeseburger pumping out through the older man’s skin.
They thought they had a reason to celebrate.
She could have told them otherwise, but they didn’t ask.So she simply followed along, a ghost in a woman’s body, her face a serene mask.It was becoming more difficult to guard against flickers of expression.Just four hours ago she had stared at the slice of mirror over an indifferently scrubbed bathroom sink in the lowest, most secured part of the base, and watched her face move as she thought.Strange, how concentrating could change the architecture of that collection of muscles and bone.
“There’s a storm moving over, things have fuzzed out a little.Eight’s working like a charm, though.”
Only temporarily.She could have said it, didn’t.It had been...nice, she supposed, to get into clean clothes.Who had bought the skirt, the blouse?The gold hoops she’d been wearing in her ears since she woke up after the induction process, whose were they?Her own?
