open the collar of her—already tattered—shirt. He handed it to her, revealing a small chip tucked inside. “I’m not the one wearing trackers,” he said in something of a growl.
Speechless, she stared at the tiny black speck. “Trackers.” Oh God, of course. She nearly slapped herself on the forehead. No wonder Ralley had been able to follow her every move.
“Hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“We don’t?”
“This apartment is probably bugged. They’ll know I’m here. There will be more people on the way.”
“More people?”
His eyes narrowed. “Can you stop repeating everything I say and just strip?” He grabbed the bag he’d dropped at the door, opened it and pulled out a pair of sweats, tossing them to her.
She grabbed them with nerveless fingers.
She wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake, but this had been a very stressful day.
One thing she knew for certain was that she had to get out of here. She had to get away. Ralley was listening in. He would be sending more men and, like it or not, this large and looming warrior was her best chance at escape.
He wasn’t working for Ralley—that much was clear, given the ferocity with which he’d pummeled the Russian. But she didn’t know who he was, or what his intent might be. She had no idea why he was helping her.
She hoped he’d been sent by James, but hope was for fools.
Her best bet was to play along to get away from here, and then, when she could swing it, lose him as well.
At this point, she trusted only one person, and that was herself.
* * *
Benedict tried not to stare as Michelle slipped out of her slacks and reached for the sweats.
Goddamn. He hadn’t expected this. Not at all. When Titanium had told him he was extracting an analyst, he’d envisioned someone dowdy and dumpy. Coke bottle glasses at the very least. Not this…fucking vision. She was gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous with sharp, elegant features, silky black hair in a stylish bob, enormous green eyes and fuck…curves that made his mouth water.
As her pants fell to the floor, and his gaze landed on the twin dimples at the base of her back, he had to swallow his drool. His cock stirred. Howled. With iron hard determination, he willed it to shut up.
He’d never been distracted by a woman before and he wasn’t starting now.
She lifted a leg to tug the sweatpants on and the bunch of her ass sent a shiver through him. It annoyed him mightily, this awareness, which was probably why his voice was so harsh when he barked, “Underwear too.”
She turned slightly, to glare at him over her shoulder. Her gaze nearly gutted him. He’d never seen such deep green. Hell, he’d never seen eyes actually snap. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Everything. We can’t take a chance.” He knew, if he wanted to track someone, he’d make sure he had trackers everywhere, in everything. They were small enough now that it was possible to plant them in seams of clothing, shoe heels, barrettes. They were small enough someone who wasn’t looking for them would never notice them.
The woman huffed a heavy sigh and slipped off her panties—and God, what a sight that was. From the back, yeah, but in the mirror on the wall, even better. He felt like a creep for peeping, but pushed the heated thought away. He had to watch. To be sure.
Right?
She covered up far too quickly for his liking, but it was probably for the best because he was starting to feel a little antsy.
“Bra too.”
She shot him another glare, but complied.
He didn’t look in the mirror.
Much.
But it was enough to memorize her perfection.
It was a fucking shame the circumstances weren’t different, because he could have spent a month staring at those tits. A year.
She caught his gaze in the glass and her eyes widened. “Are you watching?” She whipped around, just as she pulled the sweatshirt down. “Are you fucking watching?”
He grumbled something that sounded like an outraged, of course not.
“Perv.”
Heat prickled the back of his neck but he ignored it. He tried to ignore how cute she was in the too-large outfit as well.
She stomped over to her purse and started shoving things back in. “You won’t need that stuff,” he said, pulling it out of her grip.
“What?” God, she was magnificent in her outrage. He had no idea why he was infused with the sudden urge to cause more. He wasn’t a mean person, didn’t revel