Page 92 of Healing Conviction

Nora could get hurt. We might get caught. If they know the value of that box, they’ll come after us. Or if they don’t come after us, they could just drive the women away in the truck.

If everything works out, where will we go?

The woods?

The thought made him pause. It’d been a trek to get to CTI, but if all hell broke loose, would they be able to get back to the campsite quickly? It would be safest for him and Nora if they were far away before the police arrived and the security cameras reengaged. The fastest route back to camp would be the bridge, and the police would most likely come through the main entrance on the other side of the facility.

After making sure the enemy was still debating won the cold war, Draco bent lower again to confer with Nora.

“This entire mission was a real fucking bad idea,” he admitted.

There was no right—or safe—way to escape, help the women, and get that damn box, but if he didn’t figure out a plan soon, they’d be forced to make split-second decisions, potentially going theworstway.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” Nora shook her head and his jaw dropped.

“Me? You’re the one who volunteered us.”

“Only because I thought you were a big Viking Survivorman who wouldn’t wimp out at the first obstacle.”

“Wimpout?” He scowled at her as the heat of defiance burned in his chest, ignited by newfound adrenaline. Her terrified eyes flashed to him in a silent plea, making him realize his reaction to her taunt had been her intention. Refusing to second-guess himself, he palmed the back of her head and kissed her on the lips.

Even though she was stiff everywhere else, her mouth melted under his. Before he could get lost in what was hopefully not the first and last real kiss they’d ever had, he used the fight she’d just motivated in him and stood back up, exhaling and inhaling deeply to relax his mind.

The men were still drunkenly arguing over revisionist history. One was even waving his gun around like it was helping him make his points.

Draco kept brainstorming.

The guns. The truck. The lock. The tires. The box. The lamp.

His mind stilled as an idea took root. Relief and focus relaxed the tension in his muscles as he fixed his eyes back on Nora.

“Do you trust me, Pix?”

She nodded before a curious look of surprise flashed over her face.

“Do you trust me enough to do exactly what I say? Follow my orders? No questions asked?”

She nodded again, with even more confidence this time. But the vision from that first night, the night he was shot in front of her and she was stolen from him, entered his mind. She hadn’t listened then, and it’d cost her that small window of escape. Would she trust him now?

“You promise? That you’ll follow my orders to the letter? Without question?” He placed his shooting hand on her shoulder and cupped her cheek with the other so she’d meet his eyes. “Say it, Pix.”

“I promise.”

“Okay… I have a plan.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

It was official. Kisses were cursed. She’d just had her first real kiss, the kind with all that mushy emotion behind it, and it’d scrambled her head like a godsdamned egg. After all her hard work, she’d gone and fallen for the man like a total fool, and now he was proving to be either a mad genius or completely insane with a death wish. Either one would be kinda sexy though.

Love a good psycho.

No. Concentrate.

Nora was hiding at the end of the aisle, feeling naked and practically out in the open without her giant Viking bodyguard she’d had by her side for days. Her gun shook in her hand and her ears rang as she strained to make sure she didn’t miss her sexy lunatic’s cue.

Not that a gunshot is especially stealthy.

She inhaled and exhaled slowly through her nose to calm her nerves and waited.