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His smile deepened, slow, knowing, and all too dangerous. “You look like you’re about to pounce again.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to let that slide as she dressed in cool, white cotton capri pants, and a white lacy top. She turned to the mirror while he watched her. She caught the sharp tick in his expression as she revealed the wound, the flicker of rage beneath the calm. The ugly red line just beneath her deltoid was bruised, swollen, a stark contrast to the warmth still radiating from the shower.
Not fatal. Not deep. But it marked her just the same.
Then he was there, his hands reaching for the antiseptic, then pressing a clean bandage over the wound.
She winced at the pressure. “Ouch! Dr. Dagger, your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.”
That pulled a smirk from him, the kind that always made her insides twist. “What about my bed management?”
Her lips curved, amusement bubbling to the surface despite the ache in her arm. “Oh, bed management?” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to tease. “You have a PhD in that.”
His smirk deepened, fingers still resting against her side like a brand. “Well, I had all that practice with women across the fucking globe. My whole team had to wait in line, sassy pants.”
She laughed, smacking him on the arm. “You fool,” she whispered. The air between them shifted, heat replacing tension, fire pushing back the fear. A slow burn in the space wherepain had just lived. Just like that, she wasn’t thinking about the wound anymore. Or fear. Or ghosts.
Only him.
Only them.
But his angered look pissed her off. She didn’t want that. She pushed on his chest. “To continue our previous conversation. I’d say that was your fault,” she said, poking him in the chest, then winced and shook her hand. “Damn it, you’re built like reinforced steel.”
He smirked, that anger banked, for now.
“I’m not the enticing one who just stands there and turns on women just by breathing.Fucking gorgeousring a bell? So, I’m taking the Fifth.”
He raised a brow. “That’s a lot of talking. It’s theShut-UpAmendment, babe.”
She grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. All lips and challenge. When she pulled back, her grin was wicked. “Oh, go bounce a beach ball on your nose. I’m sure you’ll attract women across the globe with that small, skillful feat.”
He laughed, low and real, and it rolled through her like sunlight.
God, she was going to work on making him do that as much as possible. He was beautiful when he smiled, when he laughed, even more so.
Then he lunged.
She shrieked, dodging with a yelp as he gave chase, laughter echoing off the walls as she ran from the bathroom.
Back in the bedroom, she held up her hand, laughing hard. “We have no more time for shenanigans, sailor. If we’re late, Tex will look at us with those steely blue eyes.” She giggled. “I always feel like I should salute.”
A huff of laughter. “Yeah, my LT knows all about that if-looks-could-kill stare. I think he learned it in officer training.
“What? Scary Stare 101?”
He laughed again as she grabbed her bag.
“No, more like Shred Your Ass 101.”
A peel of laughter broke from her as they stepped into the hall.
After a few moments of silence, her humor fading, Dagger said, "You sure you’re up for going to work?" His voice was level, even, but she didn’t miss the edge beneath it.
She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. “I worked hard for this contract, Dagger. I won’t be intimidated.”
The words came out strong, steady and certain, but even she felt the undercurrent beneath them. Fear. Not paralyzing, but there. A tight coil in her spine. A whisper that slithered in when the noise died down.
His eyes didn’t miss it. Of course they didn’t. Dagger always saw too much.