Edge of Fury (Edge Security Series Book 7) Page 12

  He smiled. “Glad to know you missed me.”

  Her sigh was loud. “We’re glad you’re not dead. Now, give me a sitrep.”

  He glanced at the closed bathroom door. The shower still ran. “The target is dead.” The line wasn’t secure so he wouldn’t use any names.

  “No, she’s not.”

  He straightened. “What?”

  “We found her in the jungle, close to death, but Doc managed to patch her up enough for transport.”

  Bishop was alive and with his team. He sank onto the bed. “What’s her status?”

  “Still unconscious. It’s touch-and-go. She needs surgery.”

  “You’re not at the secondary RV?” The plan had been to meet at the secondary location if one of the team got separated and missed the first RV in the jungle near Pérez’s compound. The secondary location was in Panama. A safer location to wait for everyone to catch up.

  “Yes, but we’re moving offshore soon.”

  That must mean on a ship in the area. Was there a naval ship they had access to? He couldn’t ask on the phone.

  Cat continued, “Doc will take the patient onward while Lucky and I wait for you. Do you need backup? I can send Lucky to you now.”

  “I’m fine. I have something to take care of before I head out.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  The shower shut off.

  He spoke quickly. “I’m making sure a medic from Doctors Without Borders gets out of the country. She got caught up in this because of me. Her name’s Quinn McKenzie.”

  “I’ll run a background check. Will you keep this phone?”

  “For the moment.”

  “I’ll get the info to you soon. Watch your six.”

  “Always.” He hung up and erased the number from the memory of the phone before he shoved it into the back pocket of his cargos. He left the soccer game on the TV while he waited. He wasn’t going to tell Quinn about the phone call, specifically about Bishop. Not until the background check came back clean.

  She came out of the bathroom moments later, wearing clean cargo pants and a white t-shirt, drying her hair with a towel.

  She looked clean, fresh, and delicious. Her t-shirt hugged her curves; the cargo pants hung low on her hips and her pale skin peeked through the gap between the two. His breath quickened. His fingers itched to trace the warm skin there, to glide up toward her breasts to cup their weight and rub against peaking nipples.

  She stopped drying her hair and he caught her gaze.

  Let me touch you.

  11

  Quinn came out of the bathroom with a plan. First, she was going to check on Ian to make sure he’d made it to the embassy; second, she would hand Marc off to his team before she headed to Cartagena to get the information Anna had told her about. Last and final, she was going to get the fuck out of this country.

  A solid plan.

  She scrubbed at her wet hair with a towel. A solid plan…until it went to shit.

  Marc lay on the bed, a muted football match on the TV. But he watched her rather than it. Lying there so still, he reminded her of a jaguar, ready to pounce in a blink. Even injured, Marc radiated danger. But not to her, some instinct told her.

  At least, not physically.

  His heated gaze stroked along her body, lingering on her torso where bare skin showed. Her breath caught. His gaze, an electric blue, snared hers. She swallowed hard. That gaze tugged at her, demanding she go to him.

  No!

  She resisted. She didn’t know him. Or who he worked for. Just because he was Pérez’s enemy didn’t mean he was a friend to her.

  She grabbed her comb like a shield and ran it through her hair. She cleared her throat. “Did you call your team?”

  He nodded. His gaze tracked her hand as she combed. The heat in it hadn’t left. Her heart rate sped up, like a deer before the jaguar.

  “Where are you meeting them?” Why was her voice pitched so high?

  He gave a slow smile. “They’re on the move.” He stood with an animal grace that thrilled her.

  Her brain told her to move back. Her body urged her forward. So she remained still while he stalked toward her, his limp all but hidden. “So where…” She wet her dry lips. “Where do I drop you off?”

  He stopped much too close to her. And not close enough.

  “I’m staying by you,” he whispered, sending shivers through her. “Until you’re safe. I can’t leave you defenseless after you saved my life.” His hand reached out, as if he would cup her face and draw her in for a kiss. God, she wanted that kiss.

  His words penetrated her brain.

  She jolted and stepped back. He couldn’t stay with her. She was headed to Cartagena. Without him.

  He frowned and she crossed her arms. “I’m hardly defenseless,” she said, glad her voice came out firm. She glanced pointedly at her weapon on the desk.

  His lips firmed and his gaze cooled. He crossed his arms, mimicking her. “But you’re only a medic.” His voice held an edge she didn’t like. No longer the seducer, he stood in front of her like an interrogator.

  She stiffened and lifted her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Why don’t you want me to take you to the embassy?” he asked instead.

  He was digging for information. Digging hard. She clenched her jaw. He suspected something about her. She wouldn’t be able to just walk into the embassy and wait a few minutes until he left. He’d probably watch the place for twenty-four hours or more just to make sure she stayed put.

  She’d have to give him some information, something to stop him from probing further. “I’m going to Cartagena before I leave the country.”

  “Cartagena? Why? You want to take a boat?”

  Cartagena was on the northern coast of Colombia, on the Atlantic Ocean. She’d visited the Walled Old Town at the heart of the city a few times before, when she’d needed to get away from her assignment. “No, I’m not taking a boat. I have to do a favor for a friend before I leave the country. I promised.”

  “A favor?” he said slowly.

  He didn’t believe her. She envisioned the coca farmer who’d come into her clinic before. The farmer would be the basis for her story. It was always best to stick close to a truth. “Pérez had this one coca farmer beaten as an example to the others. I tried to save him.” She lied and let her shoulders slump in defeat. “Before he died, he asked me to take money to his family.” She shrugged. “I want to do that and then I’ll leave the country.”

  “Why don’t you just mail them the money?”

  She didn’t miss a beat. “Because they deserve better.”

  He studied her for a moment. “I’m meeting my team in Panama,” he said grudgingly.

  Her eyebrows rose. He was sharing information with her. Did that mean he trusted her a little? From the furrow in his brows, she’d guess no. So what was his game plan? She bit her lip. He must think that she’d cough up more info in response to a show of trust.

  “You going to fly or take a boat?” she asked. No one could drive from Colombia to Panama, because no one could cross the Darien Gap between the two countries. The Gap’s unexplored mountainous jungle was a maze of dangers, from fire ants and scorpions to rebels and jaguars. Very few people who went in came out again.

  “I’ll borrow something.” He paused. “We should travel together. You could probably use backup for the trip and…meeting the family.”

  She could use backup, but not him. “You’re injured.”

  “I can still shoot.”

  “I’ll think about it.” And the answer would be no.

  His eyes narrowed as if he’d heard her thoughts, but he nodded and limped by her into the bathroom. When she heard the shower going, she breathed a sigh but didn’t sit down. Tension still tightened her muscles. The man was a menace to her senses.

  She dug out her cell, ignored a text from Damien asking for an update and phoned Ian. No answer. He should have made it to the embassy by now. W
hat if Pérez had him? Ian was innocent in this. Pérez’s man, the one they’d left alive at the clinic, could vouch for that. Shit. She shouldn’t have let Ian travel alone.

  She left a message for him to call her and hung up, pacing the room.

  They were safe enough for now and should probably stay put for the night. Marc’s leg could use the rest. They were in a city of eight million people; the chances of Pérez’s men finding them were close to zip.

  She glanced out the window at the street below. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  She tapped her fingers on her leg and then decided to inventory her gear. She knew exactly what she had, but she needed something to do.

  Medical supplies were good. Especially considering it didn’t look as if Marc’s leg would get infected. Her gun and ammo were good. They hadn’t used anything. Multiple power bars but running low on water. And she had another change of clothes for herself, plus a wad of cash.

  She’d easily be able to go and pick up whatever information Anna had hidden and then get out of the country using a spare fake passport. But how would she do it with Marc tagging along? Maybe she should get him out of the country first.

  No. She shoved everything back into the packs. She owed Marc nothing. He was a capable soldier. She’d cut ties with him sooner rather than later. He was too dangerous.

  The shower stopped, and a moment later the bathroom door opened. Marc limped into the room, wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and down his hard chest. The towel sat low on his hips. Muscle seemed layered on muscle on his chest and ridged abs. He had the lean strength of a martial artist, rather than that of a body builder, but there was no doubt he was strong.

  Her heart rate picked up. Shite, he was bloody gorgeous.

  And off-limits.

  “I forgot my clothes.” He limped to the pile on the bed that she’d bought for him.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  A glint appeared in his eyes, and he stopped beside the bed, close to her. “You okay?”

  There was a damn smile in his voice. “Fine.” She almost winced at the husky sound.

  “Good.” He grabbed the clothes.

  “Don’t put your pants on,” she blurted out, and her face washed with heat.

  He tilted his head, his gaze intent on her.

  She bit her lip. “I mean, I’ll rewrap your bandage when you’re done.”

  “I know what you meant,” he said quietly. He didn’t look away.

  She forgot for a second what they were even talking about. Bloody hell, the man needed to put clothes on ASAP.

  He finally turned and went back to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Her breath whooshed out of her. Why was she reacting like this? She wasn’t a teenager who couldn’t control herself. He had her blushing, for fuck’s sake. “Not good,” she muttered as she pulled out the bandages she’d need for his leg.

  He came out wearing boxer briefs and the navy t-shirt, and holding the cargo pants. She had herself under control and treated him like a patient, directing him to sit on the bed, taking off the waterproof bandage, assessing the gauze underneath, before rewrapping it in a dry bandage. It wouldn’t do to get his stitches wet yet.

  “How’s it look, Red?”

  “It looks good.” She stood. “I think we lucked out. There’s no sign of infection.”

  “I have a good doctor.”

  “I wish I could say I have a good patient,” she teased. “But he likes to run around in the mud and pull his stitches.”

  He openly grinned and his eyes lit up. Her heart sped up, even as her lips curved in answer.

  Her phone buzzed and she snagged it from the desk, sending a prayer of thanks that it had interrupted them before she’d done anything stupid.

  She checked the ID, and all thoughts of Marc vanished. “It’s Ian.”

  “Quinn?” Ian’s voice was quiet when she answered. And scared.

  “Are you at the embassy?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I think…I think some of Pérez’s men waited near the gates. I was afraid to go in.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In a hotel. Not far from La Candelaria.”

  That area wasn’t close to the embassy. They’d need a car.

  “I’ll come to you.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still rush hour, but she should still be able to make it to him without too much trouble.

  “No,” he said quickly. “I…I’m safe enough right now. I’ll…I’ll try again tomorrow. But…will you meet me before I go?”

  She frowned, wishing she could see his face. “Meet you?”

  “If both of us go, then we’ll have a better chance of evading Pérez’s men. We can go to the embassy together.” He paused for a moment. “Please, Quinn.”

  She could hear the fear in his voice and the strain. “I’ll meet you,” she agreed.

  He sighed loudly. “Thank you.”

  “When and where?”

  “I’ll…I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

  “Why don’t you tell me where you are, and I can come to you now?” He sounded completely spooked.

  “No,” he said. “You might be followed. And…and I finally feel safe.”

  Guilt struck her. He was in this mess because of her. She understood his paranoia. “Did you make it to Bogotá okay?”

  “Yes. It was only when I tried to get to the embassy that I thought I saw some of his men,” he said. “It’s probably nothing. I’m okay. I’ll call you in the morning.” He hung up.

  She frowned. She wished he’d let her help him, but different people reacted to fear in different ways. He didn’t know her background, so maybe he believed that she would lead Pérez right to him. She put her phone away and sighed.

  “He’s okay?” Marc asked.

  At least he was dressed now.

  “For now,” she said. “He’s completely freaked.”

  “Understandable. So he’s added to our list.”

  “Our list?”

  He nodded. “First we get him to the embassy, then we go to Cartagena for your friend’s family, and then we exfil to Panama. I feel better with you leaving through Panama rather than risking coming back here.” He smiled at her.

  She didn’t smile back. “Since when are we a team?”

  “You’re in a tight spot, and you could use backup. Why don’t you let me help you?”

  She crossed her arms. “Why do you want to?”

  He sat on the bed and stretched out his leg. “Because even though I’m injured, I’m a trained soldier. My job is to protect innocents. It would haunt me to leave you behind without knowing you’re safe. Especially since you’re in this situation because of me.”

  He had her. She couldn’t refuse his help without raising suspicions, and she couldn’t tell him she didn’t need it because she was a special operations soldier. If for some reason Pérez caught up with them again, Marc couldn’t have any information or suspicions about her. The less he knew, the safer they both were.

  But she could work around him. And he’d be useful to watch her back. “Okay. We work together until exfil to Panama.”

  Something flickered in his eyes when she said those words. Did he think she would give away more on the trip? She almost sighed. She was so tired of playing a role. She wanted to go home, to see her brother, her mom, and her friends.

  “What are you thinking?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing important.”

  “Because you looked sad for a moment.” His gaze was an intense scrutiny.

  “I…I miss my family,” she said, trying to stick close to the truth.

  “Family?” he asked. “You’re married?”

  Her skin heated. Damn. Why was it always doing that around him? She pulled out the desk chair and sat. No way was she sitting on the bed with him. “No,” she answered. “My mother and brother. It’s been awhile.”

  “Why’d you come here?�
�

  “I was sent. They needed doctors here.” She hadn’t had a choice. Even doctors actually with the program didn’t get to choose where they were needed. “I’ve grown to love the place, though. It’s gorgeous, and the people are so friendly.”

  “Yeah, Pérez seems like a peach.”

  “You know what I mean.” She leaned back in the chair. “And you? Do you have family?”

  “Too much sometimes,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “I have two sisters and a brother. My mother rules my family and expects me to marry soon.”

  Soon? “You have a fiancée?”

  He laughed. “I don’t even have a girlfriend. But Mom…” He shrugged. “She doesn’t see reason when it comes to things like that.” He spoke his next words in a higher voice. “Oy, Marc. It’s time. I want to be a Bubbe.”

  She laughed. “Are none of your siblings married?”

  “Two of them are.” He grinned. “My mother is a grandmother three times over already. She just wants more grandbabies.” He nodded at her. “Doesn’t your mom ever pressure you?”

  She shook her head. “No, never.” She paused as she thought about it. “I think it probably has to do with her being a single mom. Don’t get me wrong—we had a good life. Tough at times, but she did well by us. But I think she’s half afraid that I’ll end up a single mom like her.” Why was it she found it so easy to talk to him? Why was she so aware of him and yet also so relaxed around him?

  “Then no boyfriends?”

  She shook her head and waved around the hotel room. “When would I have time? Besides, what guy wants to wait while I go on m—tours?”

  He only blinked at the quick substitution for missions. Maybe he hadn’t caught her slip, but looking into his face, she knew he had. Why did she keep screwing up around him?

  He didn’t acknowledge her slip, only nodded his head. “That must be tough.”

  She shrugged, no longer comfortable with this conversation. “I have no complaints.” He looked as though he wanted to delve further into her life, so she changed the subject. “How about I go out and round up some dinner?”

  He started to get off the bed. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” she said. “I already told you. You need to rest your leg.”