Page 22 of Holiday Hostage
Reed’s smirk spoke louder than anything. “I can see why they targeted her. Didn’t know what kind of spitfire they had on their hands.” He rubbed his chest where she’d elbowed him.
My lip throbbed where she’d hit me, and I relished the return of feeling that proved I was alive.
We’d made it out of some tight spots before, but there had never been a civilian like Payton at stake.
That upped the ante considerably.
“I’m still concerned about her head. Maybe it’s just fatigue and stress keeping her out, but I’d like to put her through a cognitive assessment when she wakes.”
I used my bandage scissors to snip the roll of bandage into an appropriate length and wrapped it around her wrists after applying a layer of antibiotic cream.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be all up for that.” Reed snorted out a laugh that rumbled around the room like thunder. “Now that I’ve seen how spicy she is, I’m tempted to keep her.”
“You can’tkeepher.” Maverick pushed him back when he crowded in too close.
I kept my thoughts to myself.
Reed’s choice of phrasing fell short of appropriate, but I understood what he meant.
Most women were afraid of us. We’d gotten used to that.
Payton had been scared, but she’d fought back.
She’d earned our respect, and that was a difficult thing to acquire from any one of us.
For all three of us to respect the little hellfire asleep on the couch was unheard of.
I wanted to keep her, too.
I wanted there to be a woman who appreciated what we could do and saw through the intimidating factors of our large bodies and less-than-sterling personalities to the hearts beneath.
All we’d ever wanted was to help people.
Reed wasn’t entirely off base with his desires.
Aside from her impressive bravery, Payton was a beautiful woman.
The picture did not do her justice.
Even worn out from capture, bruised and terrified, she radiated the kind of beauty that would have men falling at her feet.
“Too bad she thought we were the bad guys.” Reed sighed and sat on the end of the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.
The ranger station looked more like a home than I’d expected.
A thick rug covered the floor beneath my knees, the mosaic pattern reminiscent of the one Reed had picked out for our penthouse.
The entire building was made of rough-hewn logs cut in half and stacked together into a peaked roof that towered overhead.
Exposed beams reminded me of what had happened to Payton, and I dropped my gaze to her face.
A staircase tucked into the corner led to a balcony that overlooked the living area.
Four doors along the wall might be bedrooms.
I’d have to ask Reed.
We all needed sleep, but none of us would dare drift off until we knew Payton was okay.
