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She didn’t respond. He listened to her breathing, regular now, as the storm began to die down around them.
“You okay now?” he asked, steering the conversation to safer ground, even though his body hadn’t yet got the message.
“Yeah,” she said, and gave a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “It worked, your distraction.”
He cringed. “Sorry, I got carried away. It was unprofessional.”
“It was nice,” she countered.
God help him, it was. So nice he wanted to do it again. But now that his head was clear, he knew he couldn’t afford to.
“I know,” he said. “But it was dangerous. I can’t let my guard down.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I let my guard down, people die.”
There was silence. Then, softly, “I don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” she whispered. “Tell me what happened.”
He hesitated. Dust clawed at their clothes, slipping through the rocks, hissing around them like a curse. There was nowhere to run, no way to dodge the truth.
“Who died?” she prompted.
“Everyone.” The word hit hard. “I can’t—” He stopped. She didn’t need this. Not now. “I made the wrong call, that’s all youneed to know, and my team paid for it. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Not with you.
She was quiet. Processing.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He didn’t want her pity.
“I know there’s a lot at stake,” she said, after a beat.
He nodded, the weight of responsibility hitting home. “The outcome of this war depends on whether we can get you out within forty-eight hours. Millions of lives are riding on this.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” she tensed, easing back.
“Don’t move.” He held her firm. The wind still howled around them. The sandstorm wasn’t over yet. He didn’t want her to have another anxiety attack, it put both their lives at risk. He couldn’t afford to kiss her again.
“You do your thing,” she whispered, “and I’ll do my best to stay alive long enough to deliver the intel.”
Tom stared at her in the dark. She was brave. Smarter than she knew. Tougher than she looked. And everything in him wanted to shield her from what came next.
Instead, he said nothing. Just held his breath and waited for the storm to pass.
CHAPTER 17
“You said you had a plan,” Hannah said as they dusted themselves off.
The sandstorm had passed as quickly as it had arrived. Above them, the sky stretched cobalt blue, like the storm had been nothing more than a bad dream.
Tom pulled the map from his pack, already focused. Of course he was. Always moving forward. No space for distractions. Like that kiss.