Delta Force Desire. C.J. Miller
“Get dressed. The chopper leaves in five minutes.” He turned around to give her privacy but stayed in the room.
Kit dressed and then sat to rewrap her foot.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
She had taken less than three minutes. Her bathroom routine was quick compared to most women’s. “Just need to wrap my foot.”
Griffin left his post and knelt at her feet. “Let me help you.”
“How much time does it take you to get ready?” she asked. She had hurried. If he was annoyed, that was too bad.
“Minutes. Less if needed. But I’m concerned about this injury. I want to be sure it doesn’t get infected.” He used great care examining and bandaging her foot. Putting on socks didn’t hurt. Shoes did. So did walking on it.
“I can carry you,” Griffin said.
She refused to be that dependent on him. “I’ll hobble.” She’d figure out a way to walk to put the least amount of pressure on her foot even if it made her gait clumsy.
Griffin didn’t leave her side and was patient with her slow walk. They were escorted to a field. After a few minutes, a chopper touched down close to them.
Kit moved faster, but she tripped over a divot in the grass. Before she could face-plant, Griffin grabbed her arm, keeping her upright.
“Careful. No more injuries,” he said.
She had been trying to be careful. “Thank you.”
Griffin supported her on the side of her injured foot, and they walked the rest of the way to the chopper.
They climbed inside. The chopper was similar to the one that had taken her to the secret military facility where she had lived for a year. For that trip, she had been blindfolded. It had been terrifying and exciting.
If she had known what that year would be like, if she had known what her work would entail and what it would mean to have a successful project, would she have done it? She had been naive and filled with self-importance. She’d thought her work would revolutionize cybersecurity. She’d believed her research would lead to malicious hackers and black hats being exposed.
The government hadn’t been interested in her work being applied to any systems other than their own. They didn’t care if anyone else was victimized as long as their computer systems were safe. By the time she had realized that, the project was almost complete. She had been used and cast aside, and nondisclosures and noncompete clauses prevented her from using her algorithms in other applications. Thinking of it still burned.
Griffin touched her shoulder, and heat zipped over her. He mouthed a question: “Are you okay?”
She nodded. It was too loud to talk over the spinning rotors, and Kit was glad. She didn’t want to tell him she had been used then, she was being used now and in all likelihood, so was he.
* * *
Kit was driving him mad. The moment they landed, he would hand her over to the protection specialist assigned to the case and put distance between them. Connor would have had enough time to get a resource in place. Griffin was the wrong man for the job.
Griffin’s entire body heated as he realized he was attracted to Kit Walker. She was part girl next door who had no idea how appealing she was and part smart professor who had a room full of male students fantasizing about sleeping with her. He was interested in her, and that awareness switched his desire on high. He wouldn’t act like a sex-starved lunatic; he was a professional. But it was getting harder to keep those boundaries clear in his thoughts.
From what he’d read about her and what he had witnessed, she had a touch of social awkwardness, yet he didn’t feel uncomfortable around her. He guessed she had spent so much time in her sister’s shadow and then as a supergenius online, she didn’t interact as naturally with people face-to-face. But when he engaged her in a topic she enjoyed, that clumsiness melted away and she was magnetic.
If she’d been more aware of her feminine prowess, she would not have stood in front of him in a towel or crammed herself next to him in this copter. He’d sat in the bathroom while she had dried herself and dressed, giving her privacy with his eyes, but his thoughts were borderline indecent. He had imagined her rubbing the towel over her soft skin, sliding her clothes on, and he had wanted to watch.
He had to keep his attraction to her in check. Maybe the leftover adrenaline from the escape the night before was still charging in his veins, but his thoughts centered on her more than the Incognito assassins they had evaded.
Her big brown eyes had been the first trait he had noticed about her. But now he enjoyed her brain and her humility. Someone in her position could be demanding and egotistical about what she had accomplished. If she realized how much the West Company and the United States government needed her, she wasn’t capitalizing on it.
The pilot turned around and handed them blindfolds and earplugs. “Eyes and ears covered.”
Kit did as he asked without question. She had been through this before.
She reached for Griffin’s hand and slipped hers inside his. Kit was scared and she needed him. He sensed it in how she watched him and spoke to him. She was looking to him for guidance and reassurance that they were safe.
It was a heavy weight to carry, and it made him feel guilty for his thoughts of dumping her on someone else. But what could he do? Keep a job he was unqualified for? Could he handle being close to her, knowing he was attracted to her, and maintain objectivity?
Soon she would be in the care of a protection specialist, someone who hadn’t let his wife die. Placing Kit with another operative with the right skills was better for everyone involved. He knew where the line was, and he wouldn’t cross it with Kit.
After a short ride, the helicopter touched down. They were allowed to remove their blindfolds and earplugs. They would be met by one of the West Company’s operatives. Griffin would complete the handoff, go to his debriefing and then return home and wait for his next assignment.
Done and done.
Kit didn’t release him. He was helping her with her injury, but her hand gripped his clothing as if she was afraid they would be separated.
“I’m here,” he whispered to her.
“I hate not knowing where we are,” she said.
“We’re safe. That’s priority one,” Griffin said. He couldn’t get to his gun as easily with her hand in his. Her hands were shaking, giving away she was nervous.
In a small, comfortable room with plush tan carpeting and beige furniture, they were offered drinks. Trays of fruit, cheese, small sandwiches and vegetables were set in the middle of the table. The pictures on the wall were of generic floral arrangements.
A man Griffin didn’t recognize entered the room. “Thank you for your help in this matter. You may consider your service complete. Mr. Brooks, please come with me.”
“Wait,” Kit said. “You’re leaving me?” She sounded shocked, and her voice quavered.
“You’ll be working with someone more skilled to handle your unique situation,” Griffin said. He heard the words and hated how bureaucratic he sounded. He wasn’t the right man for the job, and knowing it stung. He had reached the end of the line for him and Kit. Kit was safest with someone who could protect her without thinking of her naked and writhing on his sheets.
“My unique situation? What is unique about my situation?” She didn’t hide her anger.
Griffin didn’t want to talk about this in front of a stranger. “Your skills are needed.”
She narrowed her gaze at Griffin. “If you walk away from me, I swear I will be less than useless. I know what you want me to do, and I am exclusively skilled to help you in this matter. But my memory might suddenly take a nosedive, and perhaps I’ll forget everything.”