Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
She was just so damn beautiful. And if she didn’t get her ass into a bed and get some rest, now, Colt was going to strangle her.
Two more hours they’d been sitting at the table, going over maps.
Discussing motivations and possible outcomes.
What they’d do if none of their leads panned out.
How Kameron was going to access the files Ellis needed.
While Colt knew it was necessary. That they had limited time to come up with a viable plan—execute it.
Saving Ellis’ life wouldn’t do her much good if she killed herself in the process. Worked herself to death.
She was still healing for Christ’s sake.
Had been lucky she hadn’t torn out all her stitches tonight.
Needed another blood transfusion. Yet, there she was, stubbornly sitting at the table.
Skin deathly pale. Eyes half-mast. Even her hands were shaking from fatigue, despite the way she tried to hide it. Kept them laced together or in her lap.
His buddies meant well. Cannon. Bishop. Midnight. They were men of action. Solved problems by attacking them head on. If one route didn’t work, they changed tactics. A different angle. A new perspective. Whatever it took until they punched through. And they were in prime Delta Force mode.
Colt wasn’t arguing—was on the same damn page—except when it came to Ellis’ well-being.
She put up a good front, but she wasn’t fooling him.
Five years apart hadn’t made him less attuned to her.
If anything, he read her better than ever, because now, she didn’t function solely on her wits.
Becoming an operative had broadened her abilities.
Taught her to rely on all her skills, and the physical side of her was bleeding through.
It was only a matter of time before she smashed her face on the table when she passed out.
Not happening. His brothers would understand. Would be insisting she rest, themselves, if they weren’t so focused on keeping her safe. If the threat wasn’t riding them hard, their adrenaline still slightly elevated from the chase. Bullets flying. Having to carry Six into the mobile clinic.
Damn good job that Brady guy was as good as Ice had claimed.
Brady hadn’t even blinked when they’d brought Six in, blood everywhere.
Obvious gunshot wound to his upper shoulder.
Brady had taken it all in stride. Told them to clear out.
That he’d have Six fixed up and back on his feet in a couple of days, despite the fact he should be out for a week.
But, the good doctor seemed to understand them.
That the situation was critical, and that Six would be out the door whether approved or not.
It might have had something to do with the woman standing next to Brady.
The one that had the same look as Ellis.
The kind of trouble wrought from steel hard determination and more honor than sense, at times.
One glance, and it was obvious she and Brady were a couple.
That she tested the other man’s patience whenever their ideas of what was reasonable clashed. Just like Ellis did to Colt.
Brady did mention something about Six being on light duty.
That if he had to stitch the wound, again, he’d send his buddy Gibson after them.
Colt didn’t know what the Brit had done in the service, but there was no doubt the guy was lethal.
Stone cold with the kind of air about him that spoke of rough missions that had ended bloody.
A man they could count on if shit went sideways.
Colt had taken an instant shine to the guy. Would gladly help him out whenever. Whatever. All Gibson or Brady would have to do is ask.
Ellis rolled her shoulders, head jerking a bit as she fought to stay awake. Colt smiled. He couldn’t help but admire her determination. Her stamina. And he knew she’d sit there for another two hours if he didn’t intervene. Wasn’t the voice of reason.
She wasn’t going to like it. Had that look about her that told him she’d fight him like a damn badger.
But he could be just as stubborn, just as single-minded.
And there was the fact that he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
The woman was going to get some sleep even if he had to pin her to the damn bed until she passed out from sheer exhaustion beneath him.
Dangerous territory for his brain to stray, especially when he still remembered how she’d felt pressed against him. Her silky hair wrapped around his fingers, those perfectly full lips molding under his—opening on a raspy moan as he tasted every inch of her mouth.
He wanted her. Her hands gripping his back, her legs wrapped around his hips.
He wanted soft skin sliding beneath his palms, her body writhing against his.
He wanted to kiss every inch of her flesh, drink in her gasping breath—hear her cry his name as she fell apart in his arms. It seemed so simple.
And he didn’t have a clue how to even begin.
He took a deep breath. “El.”
She stopped mid-sentence, turning to look at him, blinking as if needing to clear her vision. She furrowed her brow, scrunching her nose in that adorable way she did when she was puzzling out a problem. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah. You’re about to pass out. Come on, sweetheart…” He waved his fingers at her—pushed to his feet as he shoved his chair out of the way. “Time for bed.”
Her eyes widened, and he cursed when he realized how it had sounded.
“I meant, you need to sleep. In a bed. Alone.” He grunted at the circle of smug smiles. “Just, let’s go. We can continue after you’ve rested. When you don’t look like a freaking ghost.”
She arched one brow, giving him a long slow sweep. “Thanks, Mom. But I think I know when I need to sleep.”
“If that were true, you’d have gone to bed two hours, ago.”
Her defiant chin lifted, and he knew she was going to make a scene—the one that had been brewing between them since the start.
That they’d begun in his loft before getting cut short—having to bug out.
Which he assumed had only added fuel to the fire.
Everyone reacted to a firefight differently, and Ellis looked as if she was primed for a fight.
Needed to expend the nervous energy that had nothing to do with her physical exhaustion.
That was the product of guilt and stress. But if she thought he’d back down…
“I don’t need a keeper, Colt.”
“No, you need a set of restraints. Bed. Now.”
Her cheeks flamed, those beautiful blue eyes narrowing before she was on him. A double hit to his chest shoved him back—knocked some of the wind out of him from the force. He caught the next punch in the cross of his arms, deflecting the knee aimed at his groin with a raise of his.
She shifted, landing a kick on his hip before he managed to grab her wrists, halting her next strike while gaining a bit of distance.
Ellis breathed heavily, hands at the ready, weight on the balls of her feet. He had to hand it to her. If she wasn’t halfway unconscious already, she might have knocked him on his ass. Gotten in a few good hits before he’d been able to subdue her.
He waited to see if she’d come at him, again, relaxing a bit when she held her ground. Ready but still. “Are we done?”
“Are you going to keep acting like an ass?”
“If that’s what it takes to knock some common sense into you, then yes.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Then, prove it. Look at you. Ignoring the fact you’re still healing, you’re about to fall over.
” He dropped his hands, fully expecting her to actually trip him onto his ass, this time.
“You asked me before, where I was. Why I didn’t help you.
And I hate that I don’t have an answer. But, I’m trying to help you, now.
Not because you’re weak. But because you’re too damn close to see the situation without five years of shit coloring it. ”
He closed the distance—pushed his torso into her clenched fists. “If you need to kick my ass to make me giving a damn okay with you, then do it. Either way, you’re getting some sleep.”
Ellis huffed, banging both fists on his chest before dropping her arms—relaxing her muscles. “Which room?”
Cannon cleared his throat—grinned when they looked over at him. “Last one on the right. There’s an ensuite, in case you want to consider shimmying out the window, again.”
“Men.”
She stormed past Colt, tripping against the wall before stumbling her way down the hallway. Colt glanced at his buddies, flipped them all off when they made kissing faces at him, then followed after Ellis. She’d managed to make it to the bed by the time he walked into the room.
He stopped next to her, sinking down beside her, wondering if she’d shove him off the edge. “You pack quite a punch for someone who’s barely conscious. Not to mention half my size.”
Her shoulders drooped as she exhaled. “I’m sorry.
It’s been so long since I’ve been around people…
” She glanced at him. “And no, those SOG boys don’t count.
I halfway wonder if I’m even fit to carry on a normal conversation.
” She looked up at him. “The fact you’re right didn’t help my disposition, either.
I don’t like being bullied, even if your intentions were good. ”
“I know it’s hard to step away, even for a few hours of sleep, especially when you’re worried about letting us down.
But that’s the benefit of being part of a team.
We get to spell each other off.” He couldn’t resist leaning closer—tucking a bouncy curl of hair behind her ear.
“As for being fit company… If anyone’s at fault here, sweetheart, it’s me.
But in my defense, you’ve always known how to push my buttons from the start, and not just the alpha ones. You…”
He smiled, letting it lift his mouth, crinkle his eyes. “I’ll grab you a shirt. And I promise I won’t let you sleep too late.”