Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
P at woke up feeling more relaxed than he had in years.
Jasmine was still asleep beside him, curled on her side, blond hair splayed over his chest. Soft strands tickled his skin, her breath warm against him. He blinked a few times, getting used to the surreal sight of her in his bed.
His lips curved. Damn. Last night had been…
Incredible didn’t even begin to cut it.
They’d gone at each other like they were starving. Four times.
The first was raw and desperate. The second, slower—still feverish but drawn out, lingering. The third had been in the dead of night, him waking to the press of her body against his, her soft moan as he slid inside. And the last…
That had floored him.
Slow, reverent, like they were memorizing each other. Like the world outside didn’t exist.
It should have felt absurd, making love to a woman he’d known for less than a week. But it didn’t.
It felt right.
Pat exhaled and sat up, carefully shifting so as not to wake her.
The sky outside was streaked with pink—the sun rising in the east. Jasmine had forgotten to pull the blinds before they collapsed into bed, tangled in each other.
She stirred, her lashes fluttering before she opened her eyes.
“Mmm.” She stretched languidly, the sheets slipping lower, exposing one perfect breast.
“You sleep,” he murmured, resisting the urge to kiss it. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll make coffee.”
“I like that idea,” she said sleepily, snuggling deeper into the sheets.
Pat lingered a moment longer, watching her, then tore himself away.
Setting the water to near-scalding, he stepped under the spray, letting it burn away the lingering heat still thrumming through his veins.
Focus.
There was work to do.
Today was a new day. His team was waiting for his briefing, and he still hadn’t heard from Thorn about whether she’d gotten Ryan to the safe house. Plus, they had to figure out the target before it was too late.
That was the priority.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then down his body, rinsing away the sweat, the scent of her, the remnants of last night still clinging to his skin. But it didn’t stop his mind from replaying every moment. Every sound she’d made. Every time she’d gasped his name.
Fucking hell.
His body stirred, heat curling low in his stomach.
Not now.
He turned the taps to cold and bit back a curse as the icy water slammed into his skin.
He had to get Jasmine McCarthy out of his system before he couldn’t anymore. But even as he thought it, he knew it was already too late.
Pat stepped back into the bedroom, towel slung around his hips, water still dripping from his hair. Jasmine was sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist, her skin kissed golden in the morning light.
Her gaze flicked to his chest.
Heat flared in her expression, dark and unmistakable.
Fuck.
So much for the cold shower.
“Good morning.” He forced his voice to stay even.
Her lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “Morning.”
“You sleep okay?”
She gave a throaty laugh, eyes gleaming. “Not in the slightest. You?”
He laughed. “Same.”
He moved toward her, and she tilted her face up to meet him, her lips warm, soft, as he kissed her slow and deep. He could so easily forget what day it was. Where he needed to be. What was at stake.
But he forced himself to pull back, straightening. “I’ve got to head to the office. You should come with me. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
She nodded, her smile faltering as reality set in.
“I’ll make coffee while you shower and get ready. We’ll leave in thirty.”
“Copy that,” she said, with a sly smile as she slid out of bed. Naked.
Jesus Christ.
A soft smile played on her lips as she walked across the room, her bare skin on display, every inch of her a reminder of last night.
He was not going to survive this woman.
His dick gave an enthusiastic twitch, hardening despite his best efforts.
He forced a breath out, low and rough.
“Something wrong?” she asked innocently, pausing in the bathroom doorway.
“Not a damn thing,” he bit out.
She laughed, and disappeared into the steam.
Pat pulled on a fresh shirt and checked his phone. Two messages—one from Blade, one from an international number.
He called Blade first. “I’m on my way.”
“Boss, we’ve got a situation.”
Pat’s jaw tightened. “What kind of situation?”
“Thorn just called in.” Blade’s voice was clipped. “She got the kid to the safe house, but two guys tailed them. She got jumped. They took Ryan.”
A sharp chill ran through Pat’s veins.
Fuck.
His grip tightened on the phone. “How long ago?”
“Less than an hour. Thorn’s only just came to.”
Pat closed his eyes, jaw locking. “She okay?”
“Yeah, fine. You know Thorn.”
He did. She was tough, it would take more than this to ground her. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He hung up.
Jasmine walked in, her damp hair curling over her shoulders, her bare legs beneath his boxer briefs making something low in his gut clench.
But then she caught his expression.
“What?” Her voice sharpened. “What is it?”
Pat exhaled. “It’s Ryan.”
Her entire body went still.
“Two of Al-Jabiri’s men followed Thorn to the safe house. I’m sorry, Jasmine, but they took him.”
She stared at him for a second.
Then she swayed, her hand flying to her mouth. “No. Oh, God. No.”
Pat reached for her instinctively, but she jerked back.
“They’re going to kill him, Patrick,” she whispered, eyes wide with panic. “They’re going to kill him because of me. ”
Her breathing turned sharp, ragged. She was going into full panic mode.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her. “Listen to me.” His voice was firm. “We are not going to let that happen.”
Her eyes burned into his, pleading, wild.
“Do you hear me, Jasmine?” he ground out. “We are getting him back. ”
Her chest rose and fell in sharp, quick gasps. Then she nodded. Once.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re leaving now. ”