Riding The Edge - Elise Faber Page 0,54

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

18:26hrs local time

Ava

A week later, there was a knock on my door.

I was sitting up, staring at the report the tech team had sent over, and trying to figure out our next steps.

We’d run some remote surveillance on the other drops we’d managed to deduce from the initial files, but no trafficking had taken place on any of them. So, it had become clear that the Toscalos and Mikhailovas had changed tactics.

Whether they’d simply stopped trading in people for the moment or just changed the trade routes was still a question we needed answered.

“Come in,” I called since it wasn’t like I was fully mobile.

By the time I made it to the door at “Grandma Speed”—thanks