Page 6 of Covert Temptation (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #4)

She stared straight ahead too. Fat snowflakes drifted down, melting on contact with the warm glass. The world around them was still and dark, muffled by the hushed whisper of falling snow.

Inside her, her nerves screamed. Dante hadn’t spoken a word since they pulled away from the base. She might have been wearing a blackout hood for the first few miles but she still had ears, and his silence had a sharp edge. Like disapproval. Or judgment.

She wasn’t sure which unnerved her more.

The urge to freak out hummed just under the surface of her skin. She hated flying blind, with no plan in place. And right now, she had no clue what her future held. No knowledge of how to fix her current situation.

Knowledge was power, and she was completely powerless. After talking to Alyssa, she knew even less about where she stood in this game. Alyssa might have softened toward her after their talk, but that didn’t mean anyone else had.

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable after endless hours spent traveling today. “Where are we going?”

He gripped the wheel like it had personally wronged him and didn’t look away from the road when he answered. “Safe house. To get your things.”

Surprise made her spine stiffen. She bit her lip to keep from prodding him for more information because if she knew anything about the SEAL, it was that asking questions was a fast track to nowhere.

After she got her things, where was she headed? Wherever he was taking her, she knew he wouldn’t trust her not to run again. She’d seen him place a duffel bag in the back seat. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it. Now, she had questions galore.

Could that mean…he’d be staying with her?

She darted a quick glance at his long fingers wrapped around the wheel as if he could bend it to his will. Even in the dark, she made out the hair sprinkling the back of his knuckles. She followed the line of a tendon up his forearm to his elbow, where it bunched like a solid rock.

She’d been close to Dante on several occasions now, but she never got used to his size. The SEAL was absolutely huge, stacked with muscle.

She stole another peek at his fingers, still able to feel his touch on her upper arm when he steered her toward the waiting chopper. Those hands could kill a man, yet his touch on her had been soft. Almost gentle.

She knew firsthand how true the old saying of “looks can be deceiving” was. She’d spent the past few years in the world of politics. And before that…

Kennedy buried the thought of the world she’d lived in for years deep down inside her, and focused on what lay ahead. Soon they’d arrive at the safe house and she’d be reunited with the only thing she had left in the world—her belongings.

They drove another ten minutes before Dante pulled into the alley behind the safe house. It was the same way he’d brought her in weeks ago, and the same way she’d walked out. Was that only today? It felt like a lifetime ago.

He parked and turned his head slightly without meeting her eyes. “Don’t get out. I’ll come around to get you.”

Her exhale was noisy enough to make him grunt in response.

She watched him walk around to her door. When he opened it, she pulled her coat tighter around herself. The frigid wind plucked at the fabric and tossed her hair around her face. Dante’s hand twitched toward her.

Then he pulled it back.

She followed him to the back entrance and up two flights of stairs barely lit by a flickering light. He tapped a key code to unlock the door and entered the apartment first, flipping on the light immediately and going into protection mode.

One hand lay along his spine, over the weapon he carried in his waistband, and his broad shoulders were an impenetrable wall.

She hung back in the entry and tried to come to grips with the weeks she’d been locked up here. The sparse and sterile space left her feeling vacant. The heater rattled in its usual unsettling way, like ghosts dragging chains across her nerves.

After satisfying himself that no one could be hiding under the mattress on the floor or behind the table with uneven legs, Dante turned his head to pierce her in his stare. “You left the TV on?”

“I was in a hurry.”

“I thought someone involved with the ambassador would have more sensitivity towards conserving energy.”

“That’s Alyssa’s wheelhouse, not mine.” Her focus was on the table and the items she’d left behind when she packed the tote earlier that day. “My friends!”

She rushed to the stack of clothing and shoes in silky bags. She snatched up her most prized possession—her Chanel bag in the caviar color, quilted, with gold hardware. It was still in the tissue paper she wrapped it in after every use.

The bag had taken her a year of saving. It had been all over the world with her, to special events and special places. Carrying it felt like being with a good friend.

“Your what ?” Dante’s voice sounded unnervingly close to her.

She shot him a dirty look. “These are just things to you, but to me they’re friends.”

He didn’t need to say anything. His arched brow held all the judgment. “What’s in the tissue?”

“My favorite bag.”

“Okay, why do you wrap it up?”

She clutched it closer. “Because it’s lambskin and I don’t want it to get any marks or scuffs.”

“Jesus.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Pack it up, Bloom.”

“Fine, King ,” she bit off just as sharply. Some people just didn’t understand attachment to things others worked so hard for because they were just handed everything they wanted.

She set her Chanel aside carefully and reached for her suitcase.

Then she took her time folding her clothes, starting with her best tailored trousers.

Piece by piece, she settled the garments in the suitcase.

Finally, she rolled her cashmere sweater so the fibers wouldn’t break and it would last longer.

Dante’s gaze followed her every move.

With her garments packed away, it was time for her shoes and bags.

“Can you hurry it up?”

She gave him the flat look that request deserved. “I have a system . I’ve packed this luggage a thousand times. Everything has to fit just right to avoid damage.”

He folded his arms across his muscled chest and let out an irritated huff.

“Time for my beauties.” She tucked a black silk bag holding a pair of suede heels in the corner of the luggage. “Now your turn, my lovelies.” She added the tan silk bag with another pair of heels into the opposite corner.

“You’re actually talking to your wardrobe.”

“I’d talk to you, but you’re not very friendly.” She might try harder if he didn’t act like a colossal dickhead every time he got around her.

He exhaled, barely shaking his head. “You realize there’s a reason we’re leaving this place, right? When you ran, you might as well have given a map to anyone who might be looking for you. Less shoe worship, more packing, Kennedy.”

She whirled on him. “If you’d just spent weeks alone in this place ”—she swept her hand around the apartment—“you’d find something to converse with too!”

His lips set in a firmer line, but he didn’t come at her again for whatever crazy she might have generated by being alone—and scared—for so long.

She returned to packing, doing her best to ignore him—but it was damn near impossible when the man seemed to fill the entire room, and whatever space he didn’t occupy physically, his attitude claimed.

She stilled with her hand on another silk bag.

“Kennedy.” He growled her name in a tone that rippled over her nape and fast-tracked down her spine.

“These are my best shoes and they deserve some care.” She looked around, making sure she wasn’t missing anything, then zipped the luggage shut. “Don’t you have anything you care about?”

“Yeah. My AR.”

She rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw stars.

“And my body armor,” he added. “Also important. Keeps people alive. You know—like, real people. Not…accessories.”

That stung more than she’d admit. “You think I’m shallow.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “that when people get handed everything, they don’t understand how to prioritize.”

Her jaw dropped. “Handed? You think anything came easy to me? That I didn’t work my ass off for every single thing I have?”

He shrugged. “You’re not packing like someone who knows what danger looks like.”

Kennedy tipped her head back and deliberately held his stare. “I was alone here for weeks. I know exactly what danger looks like. It might be silly stuff to you, but these things make me feel like a person. I didn’t grow up with brothers in my corner or a SEAL team at my back. I built myself.”

His jaw ticked, but he said nothing. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, breathing hard.

She wanted to ball her fists in frustration and storm away, but she held her ground.

He took a step closer, holding his.

She hated how annoyingly good he looked with five-o’clock shadow dusting his angular jaw. Even his hard, unreadable eyes glimmered like obsidian.

Dante King was hot.

And angry and judgmental.

But also frustratingly hot.

She turned away, lifting the suitcase with both hands. He took it from her before she could argue, then rushed her out of the apartment so fast she didn’t even have time to flip the bird to the four dull walls of her former prison.

They drove again, this time out of the city. The tall buildings gave way to undisturbed and wild countryside. Snow coated the empty fields. Lining the side of the road, fence ran for miles.

Kennedy had no idea where they were, but it was rural and quiet. Too quiet.

“Is there an Amish family available to take us in?” she muttered.

“I’m told the place has great Wi-Fi,” Dante offered, not glancing over.

“Of course it does. The bandwidth is wide open because no one lives out here to use it. Not that it matters. I won’t have a phone.”

“That’s correct, Fifth Avenue. No outside contact.”

A gasp hit her lips at the name he called her, even as she stilled at what it meant.

No contact. No control. She’d never felt more vulnerable.

She turned toward him, trying to keep her voice even. “You’re leaving me way out here without a phone?” She waved at the windshield and the endless snowflakes darting at it. Beyond that, nothing but the occasional farmhouse or cluster of trees. “What if something happens?”

“You’ll have everything you need.”

Her voice cracked. “How do you know what I need?”

He shifted his focus from the road to look at her. His eyes flickered with something that made him tear his stare away from her and redirect it to the road.

He seemed to hesitate, and then he said more softly, “I don’t. But I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

That surprised her. Not the words, exactly—but the way he said them. Like he meant it, and hated that he did.

She sat back in her seat, arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t like being cut off.”

“I get it.”

“Do you?” she asked quietly.

Dante was silent for a beat. “You ever have to sit on a rooftop for forty-eight hours with no comms, just hoping someone remembers to pull you out?”

She blinked.

“Didn’t think so,” he added.

Fair. She looked out the window again. The snow was falling heavier now, blanketing everything in white. As isolating as it felt, it was also beautiful. Stark. Like starting over.

She sighed and stole a glance at him again.

He was rigid in his seat as if every inch of his body was determined to get them through the snow to safety. Long minutes passed, then she caught Dante sending a sideways glance her way.

His gaze slid to her legs, then quickly darted back to the road.

Her stomach gave a flutter—a very annoying flutter, but still a flutter.

He was watching her.

And while he might be all gear and grit, there was no denying the tension simmering between them was more dangerous than the other threats hanging over her.

Two could play that game. If he could steal peeks at her, she could too.

A small smirk played around her lips. She had to say Dante provided a nice view.

He shifted in his seat as if suddenly uncomfortable.

She gave him sideways glance. “You okay over there?”

“Fine,” he grunted.

“You seem tense.”

“I’m always tense around people who talk to their shoes.”

She laughed—a genuine laugh.

The sound startled the hell out of her. How long had it been since she laughed? Today, of all days, it was so…unexpected.

“Maybe my shoes are just better listeners than you. You are, after all, a man.”

He didn’t respond, but his mouth twitched—just a fraction. Like he was holding back a smile. Or maybe one of his infamous groans.

As they turned down another snow-covered road, she realized something. She didn’t know where this was all going. She didn’t know who or what she could trust.

The only thing she truly knew without a singular doubt? Dante King was the most maddening man she’d ever met.

He was also solid…and safe.

And if she had to disappear, there were worse places to land than under the watchful gaze of this growly…very hot…SEAL.