Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
T horn breathed in the fresh mountain air, taking in the dramatic landscape dotted with hardy shrubs and towering cacti. The vast expanse felt liberating after all the time spent cooped up indoors, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside her.
They didn’t talk much, but words weren’t necessary. The sounds of nature surrounded them—a chorus of birds, the rustling of dry grasses, the occasional flutter of a lizard darting through the underbrush. The sky was a brilliant blue, only a few wisps of white clouds marring its perfection. It would have been idyllic if not for the tension that crackled between them like a live wire.
Every few moments, Thorn looked over her shoulder, her nerves on high alert. Out here, they were exposed, vulnerable. But after Damian’s pent-up frustration at breakfast, she knew they needed to do something—anything—to release the pressure building between them.
“There’s nobody behind us,” Damian called, stopping up ahead. They’d been walking for nearly an hour, scaling the foothills surrounding the town. So far, they hadn’t seen another soul.
Thorn forced herself to relax, though it felt futile. This wasn’t Colombia. There weren’t rebels hiding in the mountains, armed with AK-47s waiting to take them out. But the way her heart raced at the sight of Damian, the way her pulse quickened every time he glanced her way, it was as if she was in the middle of a war zone all over again—only this time, the battle was within.
“I used to go hiking as a kid,” Damian said, almost to himself, breaking the silence. “It was a way to escape. I joined a local hiking group, and we’d walk for hours. Sometimes, I even slept out in the mountains. I loved the outdoors.”
The wistfulness in his voice tugged at her, a reminder of the boy he’d once been. A boy who’d had to grow up too fast, unlike her, who’d been loved and protected. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to reach out to him, to touch him.
“Our guide taught us about wildflowers and plants. He was a botanist, I think. I can’t really remember, but he’d point out the different species to us along the way.”
“He sounds nice.” Thorn’s voice was softer than she intended, betraying the emotions she was trying to suppress.
Damian nodded, a shadow of a smile touching his lips. “He was.”
He wandered over to a cluster of bright red flowers growing in the crevice of a rocky outcrop. “Take these, for example.”
Thorn followed him, her heart thudding in her chest for reasons that had nothing to do with their surroundings.
“They’re called firecracker plants. Hummingbirds love them. They’re native to this region.”
“Good name.” The vibrant red petals were striking against the rugged backdrop.
“They remind me of you,” Damian said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
Thorn’s breath caught. She knew she should stop him, but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot, his words sinking deep, far too deep.
“Beautiful, resilient, and built to withstand the toughest conditions. Hardy and untouchable. Hiding in the cracks, making it hard for anyone to get close.”
Her heart twisted painfully. “I think the fresh air has gone to your head.”
But she knew he wasn’t just talking about the flowers. He was talking about her, and it was tearing her apart. She couldn’t do this. Not here, not now. Her resolve was slipping, and she didn’t trust herself to keep it together much longer. “We should keep moving.”
She started to walk away, but Damian grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him. The intensity in his eyes stole her breath.
“Goddammit, Thorn. Did it really mean nothing to you?”
“Nothing,” she lied, her voice cracking as she dropped her gaze.
“Liar,” he growled, pulling her closer, his grip firm but not harsh. He was daring her to deny the pull between them, to deny the raw, electric attraction that had been building from the moment they’d met.
She shook her head, her voice a mere whisper. “Damian, we can’t. Not here. It’s too dangerous.”
“Trust me, Thorn. It’s going to be a lot more dangerous if you don’t kiss me right now.”
His words hung between them, heavy with the promise of something she was terrified to give in to. She wanted to laugh it off, to brush it aside like she always did, but the way he was looking at her—like he was a man on the edge, ready to jump—it was unraveling her.
His eyes were burning into her, seeing past every wall she’d put up, every defense she’d constructed. He knew. He’d always known.
“Look at me, Thorn.”
She was powerless to resist, her gaze lifting to meet his.
That was all it took. In one swift motion, he closed the distance between them, crushing his lips against hers. The kiss was fierce, demanding, with a desperation that sent a shiver of raw need through her. His teeth grazed her lips as his tongue claimed her mouth, hard and possessive, leaving no room for doubt, no room for her to retreat.
She kissed him back with everything she had, the barriers she’d so carefully erected crumbling to dust. There was no going back from this. He was claiming her, and she was letting him.
Her attempt to keep him at bay had failed spectacularly. He’d broken through her defenses, tearing down every last one until she was laid bare, vulnerable, exposed.
And she was unprepared for the torrent of emotions that her surrender unleashed.
A sob caught in her throat, but Damian swallowed the sound, his arms wrapping around her like a shield, protecting her from the storm she’d kept bottled up for so long.
His hands gripped her ass, pulling her flush against him, his need evident in the hard line of his body. He wanted her—God, how he wanted her. And she wanted him just as fiercely, the intensity of it leaving her breathless, disoriented.
Fire raged through her veins, incinerating every thought, every hesitation. How had she ever thought she could walk away from this? From him?
Their attraction was too intense, too primal to ignore. It was a force of nature, undeniable and unstoppable, and she was caught in its grip, powerless to fight it.
She clung to him, her fingers tangling in his hair, needing to feel every inch of him, to burn herself into his memory, just as he was searing himself into hers. She was melting in his embrace, the heat between them scorching her from the inside out.
A desperate moan escaped her lips, a sound she didn’t recognize as her own. She was losing herself in him, in this moment, and she didn’t care.
Damian pulled back, breaking the kiss with a low, animalistic growl, his chest heaving as he looked down at her, his eyes molten silver, filled with an intensity that left her reeling.
“Now tell me that meant nothing.”
Thorn couldn’t remember walking down the mountain. The journey back to the hotel was a blur, the winding alleyways a vague memory. She didn’t recall stepping into the cold shower, scrubbing off the sweat, the dirt, and the raw, unbridled lust that had built up during their hike.
It was only when she emerged, shivering and dazed, that her brain cleared just enough to process what had happened.
Okay, so he’d proved his point.
Big deal.
It still didn’t mean they should be involved.
If anything, it proved her point—that she couldn’t do her job when her mind was so consumed by him. Take the last hour, for example. They could have been ambushed by bandits, blown up by rebels, or attacked by wild animals on the way down the mountain, and she wouldn’t have noticed.
He’d left her shattered and shaking, torn up inside. The fire he’d ignited hadn’t simply gone out; instead, it burned like a hot, glowing coal, leaving her sweaty, frustrated, and more than a little aroused.
Damn, Damian.
When they’d gotten back, he’d left her alone to grab a pack of beers from the store. She’d let him go, desperately needing the time to regroup, to try to make sense of what had happened out there.
The ice-cold shower had calmed her down, given her some perspective. This had to stop. But how was she going to tell him he couldn’t manhandle her like that—even if it was to prove a point? Damian wasn’t the type of man to take no for an answer.
That smug look on his handsome face hadn’t helped either. It had only made her madder, more frustrated.
By the time he got back from the store, she’d regained some of her composure. “Damian, we need to talk.”
Instead of answering, he handed her a wrapped parcel. “I got you something.”
Trust him to throw her completely off balance.
She stared at the package. “You got me a gift?”
He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, looking for all the world like a pleased little boy who’d done something clever. Why did that tug at her heartstrings? “It’s more of a disguise than a gift.”
Intrigued, she pulled open the wrapping, and out tumbled a knee-length blue dress with a subtle floral pattern. She held it up, the fabric flowing over her hands. It was off the shoulder, cinched at the waist, then flared out to her knees.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to appear ungrateful. “But I’m not sure it’s me.”
“I’ve seen you in your wedding dress, remember?”
Damn. She had loved the feel of the silk on her skin, the way it swished around her legs. She hated that he knew that, that he had her all figured out.
How?
She hadn’t shown him any more of herself than she had others, yet he’d read her like an open book, like one of his crypto programs. Now he was pressing her buttons, making her do things, feel things, that she never normally would.
This had to stop.
“It’ll help you blend in,” he said, peeling off his shirt.
Oh, God.
Why did she want to run her hands over his chest so badly? To lose herself in the smell, the taste, the feel of him? She gulped down the urge.
She had to put an end to this… this madness.
Putting down the dress, she said, “Damian, I think we’d better talk about what happened.”
“So now you want to talk?” He winked at her, teasing. It made her heart do an odd flip-flop. Since when did they have this light-hearted banter?
At her exasperated look, he relented. “Okay, sure. Let me have a shower, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Clara recommended a great little place where we can get dinner.”
Nooo! The thought of going out to dinner with him was too much. It wasn’t a date. He was making this sound like a vacation.
“We’re supposed to be hiding out,” she gritted out, trying desperately not to look at his bronzed chest, those toned muscles on display. He might not be as bulky as the SEALs she’d worked with, but he had clear-cut definition, and a six-pack that she wanted to run her tongue over.
Holy hell, what had gotten into her?
“I know, but there’s no law that says we can’t have fun in the process.”
She frowned. Fun equaled distraction equaled danger.
“It’s on the other side of the square.” He spread his arms wide. “We’ve got to eat.”
That was true.
If they didn’t go there, they’d have to go somewhere else, so they may as well try the restaurant Clara had recommended.
“Okay, sure,” she relented, turning her back on him before he could peel off his jeans. That would be a step too far. Having felt his hardness against her on the trail, she didn’t think she could handle seeing it in the flesh.
“I won’t be long,” he said, and she heard the bathroom door click shut.
Exhaling, Thorn eyed the dress lying on the bed.
Should she?
Outside, the sky was deepening into a rich, unrelenting blue, and while the sun still shone brightly, it wasn’t as high as it had been.
Would it be so wrong to put it on? It was pretty, and it would feel good against her skin. Her jeans were dusty and worn, her T-shirt still fresh, but she could save it for another day. It would save doing laundry.
Just one day, she whispered to herself. I’ll give myself one day to be a normal woman.
It seemed safe enough here in the mountain village. So far, she’d seen nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that raised alarms.
But twenty-four hours was all she was going to compromise on. Then she’d snap back to reality. This craziness could not be allowed to continue. She was a former Special Agent, for heaven’s sake, and she had a job to do. Not even that silver-eyed devil would prevent her from doing it.
Decision made, she picked up the dress.