Chapter 4
Rogue didn’t wait for the water to warm. As soon as he kicked off his boots and shed his jeans, he stepped beneath the spray, willing the water from the aquifer five hundred feet below to cool his libido.
What had possessed him to kiss Keira?
His lips brushing across her forehead had felt as natural as taking his next breath. Only it had left him a little breathless once the deed was done. Breathless and longing for more.
He reminded himself that she was his target.
But she wasn’t. She was someone he needed to protect and help root out the killers before they succeeded in silencing the one they’d framed. He needed focus, not distraction.
When the water hit the wound on his shoulder, he gritted his teeth. Pain was a good reminder to keep his thoughts off the woman and on the task at hand.
Keira was an assassin, trained to kill, brainwashed to follow orders, to believe she was no longer a victim.
Sadly, she was a victim. No child or young woman should have to do the dirty work for powerful people, while being fed the bullshit that they were helping protect their country, when it was nothing but lies.
No man, either.
He scrubbed his shoulder, even though it hurt, and started the wound bleeding again.
When he got out of the shower, he used a wad of toilet paper to apply pressure to the wound.
However, he couldn’t hold the wad and dress at the same time.
By the time he pulled on his jeans, blood had dripped down his arm onto the bathroom floor.
He did the best he could to clean up while attempting to press down on the injury.
Finally, he opened the door, ready to cry uncle and let Keira dress the wound.
She stood outside the door with a first aid kit in her hand. “You should’ve asked for help.” With a shake of her head, she turned. “Come into the kitchen.”
Rogue followed her into the kitchen and let her push him gently into one of the two chairs around the table. She quickly cleaned the wound, applied a pressure bandage and taped it in place. “That should hold it. If it bleeds through, we’ll do it all over again.”
Rogue wouldn’t mind having her apply the bandage all over again, especially since she had to straddle his knees to get close enough to do the work. Her breasts had brushed against his chest a couple of times, making it hard for him to concentrate. Hell, making him hard, period.
When she was done, he shifted so that his legs were beneath the table, the evidence of his desire hidden.
She repacked the first aid kit, tossed the toilet paper wad and gathered the cloth she’d used to clean the blood from his arm. “I’m going to get my shower. I’ll be back in five minutes or less.”
“While you shower, I could fix something for us to eat.” He started to get up.
A frown creased her forehead. Keira pressed a hand to his uninjured shoulder. “You need to stay still long enough to let that shoulder stop bleeding. Promise me you won’t try to burn my kitchen down while I rinse off.”
“I’m not much for sitting still,” he said, his lips pressing together. “I’d like to do something.”
She planted a fist on her hip. “I’d like you to stop bleeding, so that I don’t have to redo your dressings.”
His stubborn streak could be as strong as hers, but this wasn’t a battle he was willing to fight. “Okay. I’ll stay put until you get back. You have five minutes.”
She hesitated.
He glanced down at his watch. “Four minutes and fifty seconds.”
Keira rolled her eyes and scooted out the door and down the hallway. The quiet click of the bathroom door closing made Rogue grin.
The woman had him tied in knots. When she’d dressed his wound, all he could think of was pulling her into his lap or capturing one of her breasts in his mouth.
The next four minutes felt like an hour, stretching his nerves to the limit. Rogue was ready to climb the wall—injury be damned.
Keira finally appeared in less than the allotted five minutes, her damp hair combed straight back, and wearing running shorts and a loose, faded T-shirt.
He swallowed hard when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath the shirt.
Her nipples pressed against the worn fabric of the T-shirt in pointy little knots.
His groin tightened, and his mouth watered for a taste of those buds.
“Miss me?” Without waiting for a response, she pulled a pan out of a cabinet and set it on the stove.
Rogue didn’t grace her question with a response. Hell yes, he’d missed her. He’d missed moving, pacing, cooking, anything other than sitting still for five whole minutes.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Starving,” he admitted. Though the kind of hunger he was experiencing wasn’t something he could act on. Not while they were being targeted. “Let me help.”
“No need,” she insisted. “I know where everything is. If it’s all right with you, I’ll heat some cans of hearty soup.”
“Sounds great. That’s the kind of meal I whip up when I’m tired at the end of a rough day.” He pushed to his feet.
“I’d say today qualifies as a rough day, don’t you?” she said with a crooked smile.
“Ranks right up there.” Rogue liked that, despite the desperate situation they were in, Keira could still smile. “Now, what can I do to help? You might as well give me a task. I’m going to do something or go batshit crazy.”
When she shot a frown in his direction, he pointed to the dressing on his arm. “Sitting still for five minutes did the trick. It’s not bleeding through. You don’t have to change the bandages.”
Her frown was slow to fade, but finally did. “Good. Then you can stir while I get other things out.”
“Just give me a minute to put on a shirt.” He hurried out to find his go-bag.
Once he’d dressed in a clean T-shirt, he grabbed one of his spare burner phones and her laptop and returned to the kitchen, still barefoot but more in control of his body’s response to the assassin.
He set the phone and laptop on the counter. “Thought you might want your computer.”
“I will. After we eat.” Keira had opened a large can of soup, poured it into a saucepan and warmed it on the stove. She handed him the spoon. “Stir.”
His lips quirked at her command. While he stirred the broth, she snagged a box of crackers from a shelf and set it on the table along with spoons for the soup. Then she removed two bottles of beer from the fridge, set them on the counter beside the stove and dug a bottle opener out of a drawer.
Rogue popped the tops off the bottles, handed one to Keira and lifted his to hers. “To the consummate planner. You thought of everything when you stocked the cabin. Perfect. It’s more like a vacation than a hideout.”
“I come here sometimes just to recharge. No noise. No one telling me what to do. No one waking me before dawn to perform morning calisthenics. Just me in my cabin cave.” She tapped her bottle to his. “Here’s to escape.”
When the soup was steaming hot, Keira took over, tipped the pan over two bowls and carried them to the small table.
They ate soup while it was hot, dipping crackers into the thick broth.
Rogue finished his soup and waited for Keira to finish hers. When she had, he carried their bowls and silverware to the sink and washed them.
Keira appeared at his side, dried the cleaned bowls and spoons and placed them in the cabinets where they belonged. “Want to take our beers into the living room?”
“Wouldn’t you rather get some sleep?” he asked.
“I’m too wired to sleep.” She might be wired, but the shadows beneath her eyes were a clear indication she was exhausted. The stress of being on the run and keeping one step ahead of the people trying to kill her had taken its toll.
Rogue could insist that she go to the bedroom and sleep. He didn’t. He wanted to spend more time with her. Maybe he could help her relax so that when she did go to bed, she might actually sleep.
They carried their beer bottles, the burner phone and the laptop into the living room. Rogue sank onto the brown leather sofa and leaned back. “Surprisingly comfortable.”
Keira laid her laptop on the end table, sat at the other end of the sofa and smiled. “It is very comfortable. Sometimes, I sleep out here. The bedroom is nice and all, but it can be a bit claustrophobic. At other times, it feels like a safe haven.”
Rogue took a swig of his beer and swallowed. “I like your cabin.”
“Thank you,” Keira said. “I like it, too.”
“Do you think you’ll live here full-time someday?” he asked.
“That’s a dream I don’t dare believe will ever happen.”
He turned toward her and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Why not?”
She stilled, staring at the fireplace, her beer forgotten in her hand. “I’m Onyx as long as Onyx exists or until I die. They would never leave me alone to live my life the way I want.”
“What do you want? In a perfect world, how would you live your life?”
For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. “I haven’t really thought about it. It’s never been an option.”
“What did you want to be when you were a little girl?” Rogue asked softly.
“I wanted to be a teacher like my mother,” Keira whispered. The pain in her voice burned into Rogue’s heart.
"Where’s your mother, Keira?” he asked, already guessing her response.
“Dead.”
“And your father?”
“Dead.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “They died together in a car crash.”
“I’m sorry.” He frowned. “How old were you when they passed?”
She glanced down at her hands. “I was twelve. My sister was four years old.”
Rogue’s frown deepened. “Your sister? Is she part of Onyx?”
Keira’s bottom lip trembled. “No.”
“Did she die with your parents in the crash?”
Keira shook her head, a single tear trailing down her cheek. “She died on my watch.” She swiped at the tear, lifted her chin and pressed her lips together. “I couldn’t keep her safe. I failed her when she needed me most.”
Rogue stood, took Keira’s hand and brought her to her feet and into his arms. “I’m sorry.”