For a moment, their hands were locked together, an unexpected, maddening intimacy. Then she stepped away, breaking the contact. “If time is of the essence, maybe we should keep driving at night instead of camping. Anything to reach our destination faster.”
Knox rubbed his thumb over his fingers, where her touch lingered like an electric charge. A simple chemical reaction, or a warning sign that he was skating dangerously close to the same neural overload as Conall? “We can’t,” he said softly. “Forgoing proper rest will only hasten our biochemical decline.”
“I see.” She turned once more toward the small pond that had established itself in the loading dock. The moonlight reflecting off its surface lit her face, which was set in a carefully neutral expression. “It’s not too late to go back.”
Oh, it was far past too late. Loyalty aside, Rafe had spent years carefully cultivating Luna as a contact. Even if they could find another biochem expert with her skill and familiarity with TechCorps implants, said expert would probably bolt at the sight of a Protectorate soldier. Or try to kill them all.
Knox had been sent to “recruit” enough geniuses to know how those visits usually went.
“This is our best shot,” he said, lying with the truth again. “We should move faster once we get back on the interstate.”
“Should. If. Maybe.” She huffed out a soft, unamused laugh. “Not my favorite words. I like to gamble, but not with people’s lives.”
“Gambling with my life is my job. Don’t worry about it.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Nina paused. “Would you even tell me if there was?”
The crack in his self-control fractured along the fault lines of his sudden guilt, and he reacted the way any wounded creature backed into a corner would have—he snapped at her. “I don’t need any fucking help. All I need is food and some sleep.”
She went still, her only visible reaction to his rough outburst. “Understood.” Her voice was mild, but when she turned away from the water, her eyes were flashing fire. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”
He’d gone too far. He couldn’t afford to antagonize her, not when she was already thinking about ditching the trip and heading home. Knox reached out to grab her elbow. “Nina, wait—”
It was as far as he got. She slapped his hand away and went on the offensive, launching into a flurry of punches. He had to back away to block them without hurting her. Too late, he realized that was her plan. His back slammed into the wall, and she slammed into him—one arm pinning his chest, her other hand holding a knife so close to his throat that the blade would nick him if he swallowed too hard.
A violent and abrupt explosion. Every sleek line of her body promised menace, but she was still staring at his mouth, so maybe he wasn’t the only one getting stupid.
Knox licked his lower lip.
Her chest heaved, and she shoved away from him. “Don’t worry, Captain. I get it.” The blade slid back into her thigh sheath with a whisper. “Distance. You do your thing, I’ll do mine, and we’ll be sure to keep a little space between us.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, hoping the low volume of his voice would hide the betraying rasp of arousal. “I’ll take first watch.”
“Fuck you.”
She strode away, fury still etched in every stiff movement. A better man, a decent man, wouldn’t have watched her denim-clad ass until the shadows swallowed her whole.
Knox was starting to think damned was too good a word for him.
He rubbed his hand against the rough fabric of his cargo pants to banish the feel of her, but she was everywhere. A burning line of fire across his chest where her arm had pressed against him. A thinner, harsher sting where her knife had kissed his skin. It was so sharp it had barely hurt, and that was the part he had to remember.
Nina was that blade, honed to such a seductive edge you wouldn’t realize she had even cut you until you were bleeding to death.
The greatest danger she represented wasn’t that knife. It was the insidious way she kept erasing the boundaries he tried to draw. That relentless kindness. The fact that, contrary to the rules of survival, after only two days in his presence she seemed to genuinely care about Knox and his men.
Borderline suicidal for her. And potentially lethal for him.
He dragged in a breath of sticky, humid night air. The brackish water carried