With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,40
That tenth of a second had meant the difference between him letting her walk away and him sticking to her like glue.
“You don’t know anything about me, Sterling,” she said in a cool voice. “Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking you do. Assumptions get people killed. Readiness, preparation, working to become the best. Those are what save not only your life but the lives of your teammates as well. We aren’t in this as every man for himself. We’re a unit. We’re . . . family.”
Something cracked in her voice at those last words and he had the strangest compulsion to simply wrap his arms around her and do nothing but comfort her and bury his face in her sweet smelling hair. The instincts he always relied on told him she was barely hanging on by a thread and would likely fall apart.
He reined himself in before she panicked and tried to kick his ass. Tried being the operative word. Right now he wished she would try to kick his ass because then at least he’d be familiar with this Eliza and not this kicked puppy version.
“I know a lot more about you than you think I do,” he said, his features going hard.
The lie rolled easily off his tongue, because he wanted to do something more to widen the crack he’d witnessed just moments before. It made him a complete bastard, but he’d never have this opportunity when her defenses were up and she’d shaken off whatever the hell haunted those soulful eyes. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t get the information he already claimed to have. He just hadn’t had a solid reason beyond his annoying preoccupation with her to intrude on her privacy in such an underhanded way.
His code or rather sense of justice may seem twisted or even criminal by others, but if it got the job done and the desired effect achieved, then he didn’t waste much time over useless emotions like remorse. And if it helped him get to the bottom of whatever the hell was making Eliza run like a scared rabbit, he’d hound her night and day until she conceded and let him in.
Because while he was raging about Eliza fearing anything, it infuriated him in equal measure that he was every bit as damn afraid, and this was not a familiar emotion for him. Cold. Methodical. Heartless. He’d heard them all and did not give one fuck. But Eliza had cheated death not once, but twice. Actually who knows how many other times he hadn’t been there to witness just how many brushes with mortality she’d experienced.
She was highly trained, determined, dedicated and wasn’t afraid to call or wait for back up. Her IQ very likely rivaled his, possibly even surpassed it, even if recent events had him muttering things like “fool woman” or “stupid female.”
Death would only be cheated so many times before claiming ultimate victory and Wade would be damned if it claimed Eliza as one of its victims.
If possible, after Wade’s casually tossed out statement, Eliza went even paler and she swayed on her feet, though she brushed his hand away when he reached to steady her. She took a hasty step back, slipping her slender but well-toned arms around her body in a defensive, protective measure.
This time she either didn’t have the forethought to steel her emotions and not react to his words, or maybe she simply wasn’t capable, because her eyes widened and once more fear chased through her eyes, leaving deep, unfathomable shadows in their wake, almost as if they were a permanent part of her, hidden by years of rigid training and only visible under extreme duress.
Goddamn it! Twice now he’d seen actual fear and . . . vulnerability. Twice! And he sure as hell hadn’t imagined them. He was too attuned to others, and even more so to Eliza, to his disgruntlement, always watching, studying and observing. Always looking for weaknesses.
His eyes narrowed as did his scrutiny because now he had one more shocking revelation to process.
Trepidation.
She was trembling. Barely discernible, but she balled her fingers into fists to control the slight jitter. Wade was going through his own gamut of firsts. Worry knotted his insides, and he was driven by a sensation he’d never experienced when it came to a woman. To simply haul her over his shoulder and do what came naturally to him. Take control. Take charge. And do whatever it took to get Eliza to confide in him,