But what choice did he have?
His target remained in Washington. His mission to find Tak and eliminate the threat against Gray before she returned from Mallorca his primary objective. He had six days left, and the clock kept ticking.
With the back of his hand, he checked his patient for fever. Her brow felt cool, her cheek soft as he brushed his fingers over her skin. She lifted her chin, turning her face to his palm, the movement miniscule, the blind trust endearing.
Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
Deep down, he knew her trust was misplaced.
Proximity alone put her at risk. Adam was a marked man. Johnson and his backers would stop at nothing to eliminate him and the rest of the JTT. Anyone caught in the crossfire would be considered expendable. An acceptable sacrifice for Johnson’s supporters to achieve their goal of putting him in the White House.
To what end the JTT had yet to discover.
However, one thing remained clear. Whoever the men with the money were, they wanted a puppet. Someone they could control implanted in the highest office of the country. Why? Adam had no fucking clue. And that made this situation beyond dangerous.
Reason enough for him to go it alone.
He had enough to worry about with Gray and Davis caught up in this shit storm. Involving another innocent person? Fuck no. He could never—would never—ask anyone to accept such a risk.
Besides, she had to have a family. People who loved her. Missed her. Parents, siblings, friends. She didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t married, or had a significant other. A partner. A couple of kids. Someone somewhere had to be looking for her.
Bottom line, they both had places they needed to be, and as soon as she was able, they’d be on the move and headed in different directions. Him to a future of bloodshed and death. Her to a life as bright and beautiful as she.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Late afternoonby the time Eve woke, the wintery light from the window bathed the room in a silver shimmer. Back on the table beside her, the kitchen knife had once again been left within easy reach, but the IV pole had disappeared, along with her fever.
Still under a heaping pile of covers, the residual warmth she took refuge in came from the body heat trapped in her cocoon. Several degrees cooler than her pocket of paradise, the air temperature in the bedroom felt chilly by comparison.
Made having to pee suck.
She didn’t want to leave the big bed. She’d come to think of it as her island sanctuary. She felt safe here. No threats. No troubles. No worries. Out there? Beyond the open door. She had more than one battle coming.
The judge and Bryan, she’d figure out how to handle. Later. When her cognitive functions returned to normal, and her anger and fear didn’t hamper her reasoning.
The gray-eyed man? Another matter altogether.
He was…
Well—she didn’t know what he was.
So far, their exchanges had been brief. Mostly because she’d been unconscious for the majority of the time she spent in his presence.
He’d checked on her regularly throughout the night and into the day.
Three times, he’d taken the knife from her hand without waking her. Three times, she’d surfaced to find it back on the table. A silent argument she hadn’t come close to winning.
Not that she’d tried to win.
More like she was too stubborn to give in.
Yeah. Not like she wanted to give him a reason to come back.
Not. At. All.
Liar.
Even in the haze of a drug-fueled stupor, she’d come to recognize the kindness in his gentle touches. Like the way he brushed his thumb over her skin when he held her hand in his. Or the way he laid the back of his fingers against her forehead to monitor her fever, each temperature check ending with a slow caress down the curve of her cheek…
