Those brown eyes rolled. “You won’t hurt me, Dan.”
The way she said that, with complete and utter conviction, stole my breath, made my heart squeeze tight. Because she believed it. And it was probably the only thing she could have said to make me climb into bed with her.
Which was an oxymoron, wasn’t it?
Any other time I’d be diving between those sheets.
Tonight, however, I slid in carefully, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders, and holding my breath for a moment when she cuddled into me.
At least until she whispered, “Breathe, Dan.”
Then I closed my eyes, relaxed, and breathed, just like she’d ordered.
19:14hrs
Two days after Ava had woken up, Olive gave her the all-clear to leave the infirmary.
She was weeks—okay, months away from active duty—mostly due to her ankle, but also due to the wounds. After she’d gotten the blood loss under control and given Ava several transfusions to replace the blood she’d lost, Olive had needed to pump some serious antibiotics into Ava’s system. And that was on top of an emergency surgery Ava had needed at the satellite base in order for Olive to remove the bullet.
Once Ava had been stable enough for transport, the whole team had flown back to England, to the better medical equipment, knowing that Ava would need the newest tech they had for physical therapy.
Save the life in the field.
Stabilize at the satellite base.
And then full recovery came at headquarters.
“I fucking hate this,” she muttered as I wheeled her down the hall.
If she didn’t have the broken ankle, she might have been able to make it by simply walking—albeit slowly—to her room. But with her ankle casted and the twin healing wounds on her abdomen, Ava wasn’t in any position to be walking anywhere.
“Bitching won’t change anything,” I said.
A beat, her head tilting up to glare at me. “You were nicer in the cell.”
“So were you.”
She snorted, shaking her head when she saw my lips twitching. “Thanks for wheeling me,” she muttered after a few minutes of rolling. “Olive and Laila threatened to put bells on the chair if I went by myself.”
“Should I grab some cans from the kitchen and tie them to the wheels?”
“Like one of those Just Married cars?”
“Exactly.”
“When I get her, I’ll introduce Luna 2.0 to you”—another glare—“and your junk.”
I winced. “No cans. Got it.”
She didn’t reply, but I watched her stifle a yawn and sink back a little more in the chair. As much as she hated the fact it was going to take her time to recover—she was right up there with my patience—that was just a fact.
“Stupid ankle,” she muttered, something I’d heard already more than a few times. “Without it, I’d be back in a few weeks.”
“Gotta get more graceful.”
More glares.
“God, you’re pretty.” Her lips parted, face softening for a few moments. Then her eyes started to narrow again, and I added, “I’m still well-aware that you can kick my ass.”
A nod. A pleased expression before she faced forward again.
I wheeled her to her room and opened the door.
“Dan,” she breathed.
“What?” I asked, knowing full well what had given her that reaction. I’d arranged for a surprise, had snuck it into her room, wanting to keep working at those walls, wanting her to know I hadn’t forgotten all of what had transpired in that cell.
She reached back and covered my hand, squeezing lightly.
I’d put some battery-operated candles on the small table that was in each of these rooms. A single chair, same standard issue, had been pushed to the side to give a full view of the rifle.
Matte black metal, sleek and sexy, and a perfect fit for this woman.
Luna 2.0 had arrived.
I pushed her to the table. “How did you—?” She broke off, shook her head.
“When Laila told you that Luna hadn’t been recovered, I talked to Fred. He helped me get the newest model, but,” I added, “he modified it so you’d have the scope and trigger you prefer.”
Silence.
Absolute silence for an interminable moment.
Then her shoulders shook, and she sniffed.
Shit.
I dropped the handles and rounded the wheelchair, kneeling in front of her. “Shit, Ava. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
Fingers dropping to my lips, she shook her head, and when her gaze came to mine, I saw that her eyes were damp. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten me.”
I kissed her palm, peeled her fingers free. “Weapons as a good gift. Check.”
She snorted. “Wheel me closer, Jeeves. I’ve got to check out the goods.”
Rising, I rolled her closer to the table, giving her a few minutes to get acquainted with her new best friend, and heading to the door when the soft knock came. Olive stood on the other side, eyes narrowed.
“No hanky-panky,” she ordered, holding up a tray of food.
“Not on my radar,” I said, which was a lie, of course. I would always want this woman, but also, she was recovering from her injuries. I could wait.
Narrowed blue eyes. “Lie.” She patted my cheek. “But also, you’re a good man. Feed the woman, let her become acquainted with her new best friend, and make sure you both get some sleep—those ribs are still healing.”
“What’s with women always giving me orders?” I mock-grumbled.
Another pat. “You’re used to it.” She said her goodbye, and I shut the door, turning back to see that Ava was on her feet—or rather one foot, sighting the scope.
“Seriously?” I asked, moving toward her, setting the tray on the table, and scooping her into my arms. “No weight on that foot, remember?”
“To the bed, minion,” she said, pointing to the mattress. “I’m not going to argue with you if it infringes on my Luna time.” Since I wanted her resting, I didn’t return with any snark, just pulled back the covers, set her carefully on the bed, and propped her foot with a pillow. “Dan?”
“Hmm?” I said, moving back to the table and the tray of food.
My inner caveman was piqued, a chant of food, rest, sleep, food, rest, sleep on repeat in my brain.
“Dan.”
She snagged my hand, and I turned back.
A tug brought me closer.
Another tug even closer.
One more until our lips were a hairsbreadth apart.
And then she kissed me, slow and sweet and coaxing, but with so much heat that my knees actually shook by the time we pulled away.
“Thank you,” she murmured against my mouth, and the love I felt for this woman was all-consuming and overwhelming and really fucking incredible.
I cupped her cheek, pressed one more light kiss to her lips.
And then I gave into my inner caveman.
Food. Relaxing. Sleep.
The sleep was my favorite part.
Because I got to hold her in my arms again.
Twenty-Six
Northeast England
KTS Headquarters