Chapter 10 #2
One, he’d get plenty of up-close and personal access to Delaney. The closer they were, the more chances he’d have to win her back.
Two, he seriously was damn good at protection. He fought hard, dirty, and didn’t hesitate to kill. Three necessary requirements in a CIA operative.
Three, he would stop Kurt Wellington. Nash had a personal interest in the man’s utter and complete downfall. You don’t ever take a knife to Delaney. You don’t lock her up. You don’t terrify her.
Four—
More hard pounding on the door. “What are you two waiting for in there? Christmas? Jez needs confirmation, STAT. And if Delaney isn’t consenting to Plan B, then that means she has to choose another option. I’m thinking Plan C. She goes to a safe house, and she’s well guarded until this is over.”
If she chooses that plan, then I’ll make sure I’m in that safe house with her.
Nash stepped back. Jez hated to be kept waiting, and a pissed Jez tended to make the world worse for everyone. His hands slipped from Delaney as he turned away. His steps were silent as he advanced toward the door.
“I choose you.”
Hell, yes. Her words rolled through him.
“I’ll tell Jez that I choose you.”
And I will always choose you, sweetheart. Always. Never again would he walk away from her. He didn’t care what threats were hanging over his head. He would not give her up.
Never. Again.
“You’re sure about this?” Jezebel asked her.
No, she was not sure. She was terrified. Her body trembled. Her heart raced. She wanted to turn and run and go as far and as fast away from danger as she could and yet…
Delaney’s gaze cut toward a watchful Nash.
He’d vowed to keep her safe. Staying with him was far better than walking out of that door with Jezebel and being handed off to agents that she didn’t know or—even more terrifying—trying to go undercover with Kurt?
No, no way. She did not have the skill set for that kind of job, thanks so much. Lying had never come easily to her.
“I’m sure.” Too bad the words didn’t sound confident. “Nash will play the role of my, um…” Boyfriend didn’t sound right. Neither did lover. Way too intense. So—
“Fiancé,” Nash supplied. “I’ll be the new groom. We’ll spring the trap in Vegas.”
Her gaze lingered on him.
Staring straight at her, Nash added, “She’ll marry me.”
“Pretend marry,” Delaney corrected because that was an important distinction to note. “I’ll pretend marry you.”
He merely lifted a brow.
“And we’ll catch the ex,” Jezebel said. “Though, be warned, this mission will contain plenty of danger. We’ll do everything possible to mitigate the threats to you, but Wellington is a sadistic killer.
No variable can be controlled one hundred percent.
Knowing that, realizing the risks, you are quite certain you do not want to simply take my offer of the safe house and vanish? ”
Delaney curled and uncurled her fingers. “You need more evidence against him or else Kurt stays free. He keeps hurting other people.” And he’ll stay out there, hunting me. I don’t think he’ll stop hunting me.
“Yes.” No sugarcoating from Jezebel. “He’ll keep killing until we stop him.”
“Then I can handle the danger.” No, she could not. But she was certainly hoping Nash could step up on that score. “I will help to stop Kurt.” There. Done.
“Excellent.” A wave of Jezebel’s hands toward the two guards who seemed to be her constant shadows. “We’re going to make sure the trail of stolen cars can’t be traced to this location.”
The stolen cars. Right. Nash had been busy swapping out rides on their trek to the safe house.
Jezebel crisply continued, “I’ll get Hans to switch out the vehicle that is here now, just in case you need to make a quick getaway.”
Hans?
The man to the far right—the one who had dark blond hair and frigid, green eyes—nodded and stepped toward the door.
Had to be Hans.
But, ah, a quick getaway? “You think it’s possible that Kurt will find us here?”
“Doubtful, but possible. We’ll have eyes on the drive leading to the cabin.
Both Nash and Ryan will stay here with you until we’re ready for transport to Vegas.
There is no reason to think you will not be secure here for the time being.
” One well-manicured finger tapped her chin.
“Consider this your calm before the storm. Go ahead and get in practice time with Nash. Develop your cover. Get into the mindset of lovers who’ve finally been reunited after too much time apart.
Make it believable.” She turned for the door. “Screwups can be fatal.”
Well, that was terrifying.
And Jezebel was gone. Gone with her guards. Shutting the door softly behind her. Leaving Delaney with Nash and Ryan.
“You’ll be safe here,” Ryan assured her.
A chill skated through her.
“It’s a CIA safe house. Great security at the perimeters. Agents outside. Agents…” Ryan gestured to himself, then to a silent Nash. “Inside, too.”
Right. Safe.
“It would take some serious firepower to get past all of us.” Ryan sent her a reassuring grin. “So, how about we all grab some very late breakfast and relax a while? Then you two can, uh, get to work on that practice session Jez mentioned.”
She could feel heat lance her cheeks. But her chin lifted. “Breakfast would be great.” She was starving. “And after that…” Her head turned toward Nash.
He watched her. Still silent. Still intense. Still a bit scary.
“I’d like for you to teach me how to kill a man, please,” she said, very, very politely.
“Fuck me,” Ryan breathed.
Nash’s eyes narrowed.
“If you won’t show me, then maybe Ryan can.” Someone would be teaching her some tips to help save her life.
Nash advanced toward her. Slow, stalking steps. She held her ground, refusing to back up.
“I know basic self-defense,” she said.
He kept advancing. He was almost on her.
“But that self-defense didn’t do jack for me before. In case we’re separated, in case Kurt gets too close, I want to know some fast and dirty tricks. I want to know how to stay alive.” That hardly seemed like too much to ask.
But Nash shook his head. “That’s not what you said, sweetheart.”
Each time he said that particular endearment, she flinched.
“You’ve got to work on that.” His sharp gaze had, of course, picked up on her reaction. “Got to be used to terms of endearment. Got to be used to my hands being on you.”
His hands closed around her shoulders.
She shivered.
His jaw locked. “We’ll practice me touching you, we’ll get our cover role down and then…”
“Then you’ll teach me—”
“How to kill?” Nash finished. “It’s really not as hard as you think.”
And, in a flash, there was a knife in his hand.
It hadn’t been there a moment before, but it was there now, and fear flooded through her because the last time that she’d been near a man with a knife, he’d pushed it into her side. She could suddenly feel the ache in her body, and she broke from Nash’s grasp.
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “First step is gonna be…you have to stop being afraid of me.”
So said the man with the knife.
“Yeah.” Ryan cleared his throat. “Anyone else want some eggs and toast? I think I’ll get breakfast going.” He turned away. “Gonna be one long-ass day.”
She didn’t move from her spot. Neither did Nash. Delaney was far too conscious of the knife in his hand.
As she faced off with him, Delaney realized an extremely important fact. I don’t know him. Not anymore. She’d known the man who wanted to save lives. This man was a stranger. “How many people have you killed?”
Many people had been unnerved by his gaze. Scared. When they’d been younger, she’d heard the whispers that circulated. It wasn’t just that his eyes were two different colors. It was that his stare could appear so cold. So hard.
Except…
It hadn’t ever seemed particularly cold to her. Not until that moment.
Not until…
“Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answered.” Just that quickly, the knife was gone.
What was he now? A freaking magician pulling sleight of hand? “I want a knife,” she blurted.
He shook his head.
She nodded right back at him. “Yes, yes, I do. I want a knife so that I can defend myself.”
A long sigh slid from him. And then his hand was extending toward her. The knife was back—seriously, he needed to stop just magically producing weapons out of thin air—and he offered it to her, handle first.
Her fingers shook, but she reached for the knife. It was a light weight in her hand, and the blade gleamed.
“You know the problem with having a knife on you?” Nash asked.
Uh, no, she did not. Because having a weapon was better than not having one.
He moved in a blink, coming right at her, and she didn’t even have time to scream. One moment, she held the knife, and in the next instant, he’d grabbed her, yanked her against him, and he had the knife.
He’d moved helluva fast. He’d spun her so that her back was to his stomach, one strong arm anchoring her at the waist, and his other hand—the hand that held the knife—pressed the blade to her throat.
“If you have a knife, it can be taken from you. Used against you.” His breath blew along her ear. “If you’re not planning to use it, if you’re not ready to kill and you hesitate, that hesitation will just make you easier prey.”
Ryan popped back in the room. “Forgot to ask, does anyone want…” He pursed his lips. “There is a knife at Delaney’s throat.”
She was aware of that fact.
“Why is there a knife at Delaney’s throat?” Worry tightened his features.
“Because she wanted a knife.” She felt the rumble behind her as Nash spoke.
“And I needed her to know that weapons can be taken away easily and used against a person. She has to be prepared for that to happen. Has to know that Kurt and his men—they are gonna be a hundred times more used to violence than she is. So just saying she wants to know how to kill—all that will do is get her killed.”
She grabbed at his arm. “Thanks so much for that lesson. It’s not particularly helpful.”
He moved the blade away from her neck.
She elbowed him.