Chapter 10
With her belly full and her body as clean as it was going to get until she got out of this godforsaken place, Gemma felt almost human. The fire was low and the insects swarmed. Dallas stood and stretched.
“We should head in,” he said, handing her a flashlight. “We’ll leave the fire to burn out. It’ll keep some of the predators away.”
She clicked on the light and scooped up some of the dishes. Dallas grabbed the rest, and they moved toward the plane.
Various creatures squeaked, creating a symphony in the trees. Her skin stung with the need to get inside the metal walls. She bounded up the steps and entered then turned to hold the light so Dallas could shut the door.
“Seal’s broken,” he said, shoving the door closed. “It’s not shut tight, but we can put something in front of it to keep predators out.”
A shiver rippled from the back of her neck to the bottom of her spine. “Do that.”
Good god, she’d never get a decent sleep knowing they could be eaten alive or bitten by something poisonous.
Dallas went to the back of the plane and she followed, illuminating their way. He dug out another flashlight and nodded at her. “I’ll rig something up for the door and the broken windows. Why don’t you see if you can fix us a bed? The second trunk had blankets and stuff.”
“Okay.”
He moved past her, and she set the flashlight down so the light pointed to the ceiling. At least in the back of the plane there weren’t any windows or walls that were torn apart. She cracked open the trunk and pulled out two large wool blankets. That’d help.
Dallas approached. “Are there any more blankets? I’d like to cover the front window in the cockpit.”
She pulled out the last one and passed it to him.
“I’ll need to take some items we’re not going to use so I can secure the blanket,” he said.
She rummaged through the various survival and camping necessities. “There’re a lot of things in here.” A box sat in a corner of the trunk. Frowning, she pulled it out and turned it over in her hands. An air mattress. If Eli were here, she’d kiss him.
“Ah. Look at this.”
Dallas nodded. “Awesome. That’ll be a helluva lot more comfortable. Not sure there’s any room inside for it, though.”
Gemma surveyed the floor. There wasn’t a ton of space, but if they could shift some things around, they might be able to squeeze in the mattress. “If we move one of these trunks there will be.”
“All right. Let me get the window covered. Take out what you can from the trunk,” he said, gesturing to the one that had gear rather than food. “And I’ll move one of the trunks to make some room.”
Gemma dug out two battery-powered lanterns and lit them. With the inside of the plane aglow, she clicked off the flashlight and began working. Fifteen minutes later, Dallas had the broken window covered, the door secured, and the trunk moved. At Gemma’s feet, the mattress slowly filled with air, courtesy of the pump that came in the box.
Even though the space was small and enclosed, the temperature inside the plane dropped quickly. Gemma rubbed her hands up and down her arms and pulled out her backpack.
Thankfully, she had long yoga pants on. The material wasn’t the warmest, but it was something. Her long-sleeved shirt was thin, but her skin was covered at any rate.
She stared at the mattress. It was a double, which would be pretty cozy next to Dallas. The rip of a zipper sounded, and Gemma turned just as Dallas stood and took a swig of his water. His throat bobbed, and he pulled the bottle from his lips. “Is that what you’re sleeping in?” he asked, gesturing at her clothes.
She glanced down. “Yeah.”
“Do you need another shirt? It’s getting cold.”
“That’d be great.” He tossed her the balled-up material from his bag and warmth hit her palms. How the guy radiated such heat was beyond her.
She fit her arms through the black shirt, tugging it over the one she already wore. Dallas’s scent encircled her, and she took a deep, long inhale of cedar and woods. Oh, dear lord. If wearing his clothes gave her this much comfort, lying with the guy would be next level.
Dallas’s footsteps gently shook the floor. His presence closed in on her personal space, making her body sing to attention. “Tired?”
She nodded as he moved closer. Her shoulder touched his ribs. “Exhausted,” she said, clearing her throat. “But probably too wound up to sleep.”
He knelt and felt the mattress then snapped off the pump and plugged the rubber stopper. “Same. It’s barely 9:00p.m., and we won’t want to leave before there’s daylight. So I’m not in a huge rush to get to sleep.”
She took the few steps toward the mattress then crawled onto the cushy space. “I’m good with just lying in bed for twelve hours.”
He snorted then stood and packed away the pump. “There was only one pillow in the trunk.” He threw it on the bed next to her.
He shook out one of the wool blankets, and she picked up the end and tucked it around the corners of the mattress. Then he passed her the other one, and she spread it over top of her.
He’d shut off the second lantern, which was still near the front of the plane from when he secured the windows, so only one burned from the trunk.
Dallas lowered himself to the end of the bed and stretched out his legs. “Ah, my calf muscles are throbbing.”
“Mmm.” She didn’t want to think about every ache and pain crippling her muscles. Nor did she want to acknowledge the clenching in her core. To accept how much she wanted Dallas inside her.
“Not sure what you want to do...” he said, tilting his head to stare at her.
She wriggled her feet out from the blanket. “Someone promised someone a foot rub, but I’m not going to name names.”
Dallas settled on his side, his head propped up on his fist. He didn’t reach for her feet, and embarrassment touched her neck. “I was just kidding,” she said.
His eyes bore into hers. “This is the first time we’ve really been together and not had sex.”
The night’s young.She clamped down on the wishful voice in her head. “I guess you’re right. We don’t normally chitchat too much.”
The events of the day had washed away their exchange at her hotel the previous night, before she’d been attacked. Things had been tense, and he hadn’t wanted to divulge any secrets about himself. Nor had he shared the details of the job he was involved in—and he’d been more than irritated that she hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to leave the country with him then.
If she had, she wouldn’t have the bullet graze on her leg, which squealed with annoyance at her every move.
“Maybe we should.”
The heaviness in his tone made a ball of anxiety form in her gut. “Okay,” she drawled. “But why the change of heart? You didn’t want to share anything with me last night.”
“Yeah, and now our situation has changed and perhaps the more we know about each other, the better our odds of getting out of here are.”
She balled her hand into a fist as nervousness closed in around her. “That makes sense.”
“I mean, we’ve really only had a physical relationship.”
She smiled. “Why mess with a good thing?”
“You mean booty calls once a year?” he countered with lightning speed. Disdain clung to his words, but his boyish grin softened the blow.
“Didn’t seem to bother you until now.”
“Because running into you in Colombia while I’m in the middle of a job is pretty damn alarming.” His words fell between them. Of all the images she’d had brewing in her mind of how tonight would go with Dallas, this wasn’t one of them.
He let out a rumbling groan and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m going about this all wrong. I’d like to know more about you—whatever you feel comfortable sharing. I don’t want anything serious relationship-wise either, so don’t think that’s what I’m doing here. But since men have been trying to kill you—now us—for the last twenty-four hours, I’d like to know who else could be behind this, if not the CIA.”
“Okay,” she said, more carefully. “I’d feel more comfortable if you answered questions about yourself, too.”
“Great.” He slapped the blanket. “Shoot.”
She rolled onto her side so she could see him better, bending at the waist and lying in an L shape so her legs remained straight in front of her. “You mentioned you were supposed to meet with Silas Hawke. What for?”
A muscle in Dallas’s jaw ticked. “You had that one ready.”
She shrugged. “You wanted to do this.”
“All right.” His hand moved under the blanket and he grabbed her foot. His fingers moved, squeezing and kneading her flesh.
“Ah, god.” She couldn’t have stopped the moan of pleasure if she’d tried. “You don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. How’s your leg, by the way?”
She scrunched up her face. “I really don’t want to think about it. It’s sore but okay.”
“Mmm. We’d better have a look before we crash.”
She waved her hand at him. “You were about to tell me about you and Silas.”
“Yeah, that.” He worked his jaw back and forth. “Whatever I tell you needs to stay between the two of us. Got it?”
Part of her wanted to kick him, but no way she’d tear her foot away from the massage melting away her tension. “Duh.” She rolled her eyes, and he gently squeezed her toes.
“I’m a mercenary.”
She froze. His hand moved on her foot more earnestly, as if he were nervous about her reaction. She swallowed over his words. “What exactly does that mean?”
An image of him murdering innocent people flashed through her mind, but he’d been too aghast at the thought of her planting the bomb for that to be the case.
“It means I’m a... man for hire, I guess. I don’t work for anyone in particular, but various organizations contract me out.”
“That sounds awfully nebulous.”
He laughed, and the dimple that flashed at the corner of his mouth did all kinds of stuff to her insides. For someone so dangerous, he oozed sex appeal. “I’ve done rescue missions, getting people out of war-torn countries. I’ve also delivered criminals, weapons, or other dangerous goods.”
“So what were you working on this time?”
“What do you know about Silas?” he countered.
“All they told me was he’s a bad man and has killed thousands of innocent people.”
“That’s somewhat true.”
She hiked up an eyebrow. “What else?”
“Silas is aiding a socialist militia group in Venezuela, arming them with guns.”
Her eyes bugged out. “So—”
“So I’m going to suspect that’s why the CIA took him out.”
She chewed the corner of her lip. “How did you get involved?”
He stretched his neck then rested his head back on his fist. “Well, I was the middleman for that exchange.”
“You’re helping guns get into Venezuela?”
“I’m merely the messenger. The militia leader in Venezuela hired me to mediate the deal.”
“And now Silas is dead.”
Dallas’s gaze turned dark and brooding. “Yeah.”
“I bet the militia isn’t pleased about that.”
“To say the CIA—your job—fucked over something big is an understatement.”
“Could the militia leader be after you for that?”
“I doubt it. He probably just found out about Silas when the explosion was covered by the news. He also didn’t know our meeting point, so I’m sure he’s just learned recently that Silas was among those killed. He might even presume me dead.” He jerked his head toward his bag. “My contact also doesn’t have my satellite phone number. We have one line we communicate on, and there’s no reception for that here.”
Gemma let Dallas’s explanation sink in. Clearly he was no saint. But he’d been honest with her and that gave him a few points. “How much were they paying you for that job?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. His hand moved from the sole of her foot to her ankle then up her calf. Holy hell the man had the hands of a god.
“One hundred and fifty grand.”
She whistled. “That’s a lot just to mediate a deal.”
“There was a lot of money on the table.”
That he was out of now because of her.
“My turn.” Dallas’s eyes sparked with satisfaction.
Her stomach flipped over. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to anticipate his questions would address her past.
“When did you first get involved with the CIA?”
She blew a breath through her lips as her brain worked backward to six years ago. When she’d been infatuated, blind, and utterly stupid. The decisions she’d made then had upended her life and kept her under the CIA’s thumb.
“I was young... twenty-four, actually. I’d just finished college abroad and was doing a three-month tour of Europe with a friend.”
Dallas’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not cheap.”
She thumbed the material at her side. The thick, scratchy blanket served as an anchor for her overstimulated system. With Dallas touching her and the vortex of memories assaulting her senses, she felt her composure slipping through her fingers with every passing second.
But she wouldn’t break. She wasn’t the same girl she was six years ago. The girl who was lost and afraid.
“I inherited money after my father passed away. The trip was a much-needed break from reality.” She wanted to pause and recall memories of her dad, but she forced away the urge. The fact that he’d died while she was overseas still tore her up every day.
“So I did what any girl mourning her father and away from home would do—I partied. I met an amazing guy...” The memory of her first impression of Aldus almost made her smile. She’d been so naive. So impressed by his money, entourage, and bodyguards.
To say she’d been swept off her feet would be an understatement. “Before I knew it, I was living in Abu Dhabi’s most elite neighborhood with a view of sea and desert as far as I could see. Aldus showered me with attention and everything I ever could have wanted.”
Dallas’s fingers stopped moving. She didn’t lift her gaze from the gritty charcoal blanket she was twisting between her fingers.
“Things moved quickly. Didn’t take long for the tabloids to mention me as his girlfriend and then—” She cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Gemma?” Dallas prompted.
“Many scary things have happened to me over the years, but being blindfolded and shoved into an SUV and interrogated by the CIA was by far the worst.”
“What’d they want?”
She opened her eyes and met his stare. “Aldus was on a terrorist watch list. Dumb me had no idea. The CIA used me for eight months and it was absolute hell. They gave me a burner phone and watched me twenty-four seven. Any time they needed me and Aldus wasn’t around, they came calling. Had me steal things from his computer, take pictures of business associates, record phone conversations...”
“Holy shit,” he breathed.
She snorted. “I guess I was good. After they had him behind bars, they recruited me.”
His expression turned hard and the muscles in his arms and shoulders went rigid beneath his shirt, as if he wanted to get to his feet and demolish every agent who’d taken advantage of her. He rocked his jaw back and forth. “Someone should have protected you.”
Stillness crept over her body, pushing out the fibrous sensation of sadness that pulled at her tear ducts. She swallowed, forcing away the gravel that would surely cut up her voice. “I did,” she said, her voice steady in their tight space.
And she’d continue to protect herself.
Even against Dallas, who would shred her heart into strips if she let him.