She pulled her gaze from his. The jungle was behind them, the gunfire just a memory. They’d all changed clothes at their last stop. Gunner had shoved a makeshift bandage over his wound, to stop the blood from leaking through to his clothes.
They didn’t look as if they’d just spent the night in the jungle. More as if they’d just been partying too much.
Except for Slade. New clothes hadn’t been able to change his appearance that much. Gaunt, grizzled. He would need more care than a five-minute pit stop could give him.
They weren’t headed back to their original resort. No, she’d made different arrangements for their accommodations postrescue. It was always important to switch bases—the better to throw off the enemy—and she’d planned for the switch.
They were headed to villas now, private villas on the beach. High-end, far away from anything but luxury. Not a place the rebel group should think to look for government agents. And that was why it would be such a perfect hiding spot.
Not that they’d be hiding for long. Soon enough, they’d all be heading back for the U.S.
Logan and Cale took care of getting the keys to the villas. Three of them, all far away from the rest, nestled on a secluded strip of beach.
Slade climbed from the vehicle, and, for a moment, he just stared at that long, stretching coast.
Gunner followed him out, and Sydney caught the faint tremble of his body. Get the bullet out. Her gaze met Cale’s, and the ex-Ranger gave a quick nod.
They forced Gunner into the first villa. Literally had to drag the guy in.
But they got him in.
“I can handle this!” Gunner muttered.
Logan tossed Sydney a first aid bag. She caught it easily and shot a glare at Gunner. “No,” she said definitely, “you can’t.” She sucked in a breath, then ordered, “Now take off that shirt.”
Slade, Logan and Cale were all in the villa, but it was a big space, with a living area, a kitchen and two bedrooms.
Gunner stripped off his shirt, and the breath she’d just sucked in burned in her throat at the sight of his bloody shoulder. “Lie down, Gunner. Go get on the bed.” She hurried to the bathroom in order to get soap and water.
When she came back, Gunner was lying tensely on the bed. Logan and Cale had Slade in the living area, giving her some privacy to work on Gunner.
She leaned over the bed, her knee dipping into the mattress.
Gunner caught her hand. “Don’t tell him,” he growled.
Her eyebrows lowered. “What are you talking about?” But the tightness in her gut told her even before he said...
“Don’t tell Slade about us.” The words seemed so cold. Or maybe she was just cold. “He doesn’t ever need to know.”
He could have just slapped her. “What about what I need?”
His jaw locked. “You need him, right?” he gritted out. “He was the one you loved. The one you were going to marry.”
She pulled her hand from him and went to work cleaning his wound. She would not look into his eyes. Now she was the one who didn’t want to see what expression stared back at her.
“I—I don’t have anything to numb the area.”
“Pain doesn’t matter.”
Always so tough. “Why do you have to pretend you don’t feel?” The words tore from her. “When we both know that you do.”
“Feeling can be dangerous.”
She hadn’t expected that answer, and, helplessly, her gaze flew back up to his.
His dark stare was burning with emotion, with feeling.
“So dangerous,” he whispered.