Quinn came out of the bathroom with a plan. First, she was going to check on Ian to make sure he’d made it to the embassy; second, she would hand Marc off to his team before she headed to Cartagena to get the information Anna had told her about. Last and final, she was going to get the fuck out of this country.

A solid plan.

She scrubbed at her wet hair with a towel. A solid plan…until it went to shit.

Marc lay on the bed, a muted football match on the TV. But he watched her rather than it. Lying there so still, he reminded her of a jaguar, ready to pounce in a blink. Even injured, Marc radiated danger. But not to her, some instinct told her.

At least, not physically.

His heated gaze stroked along her body, lingering on her torso where bare skin showed. Her breath caught. His gaze, an electric blue, snared hers. She swallowed hard. That gaze tugged at her, demanding she go to him.

No!

She resisted. She didn’t know him. Or who he worked for. Just because he was Pérez’s enemy didn’t mean he was a friend to her.

She grabbed her comb like a shield and ran it through her hair. She cleared her throat. “Did you call your team?”

He nodded. His gaze tracked her hand as she combed. The heat in it hadn’t left. Her heart rate sped up, like a deer before the jaguar.

“Where are you meeting them?” Why was her voice pitched so high?

He gave a slow smile. “They’re on the move.” He stood with an animal grace that thrilled her.

Her brain told her to move back. Her body urged her forward. So she remained still while he stalked toward her, his limp all but hidden. “So where…” She wet her dry lips. “Where do I drop you off?”

He stopped much too close to her. And not close enough.

“I’m staying by you,” he whispered, sending shivers through her. “Until you’re safe. I can’t leave you defenseless after you saved my life.” His hand reached out, as if he would cup her face and draw her in for a kiss. God, she wanted that kiss.

His words penetrated her brain.

She jolted and stepped back. He couldn’t stay with her. She was headed to Cartagena. Without him.

He frowned and she crossed her arms. “I’m hardly defenseless,” she said, glad her voice came out firm. She glanced pointedly at her weapon on the desk.

His lips firmed and his gaze cooled. He crossed his arms, mimicking her. “But you’re only a medic.” His voice held an edge she didn’t like. No longer the seducer, he stood in front of her like an interrogator.

She stiffened and lifted her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t you want me to take you to the embassy?” he asked instead.

He was digging for information. Digging hard. She clenched her jaw. He suspected something about her. She wouldn’t be able to just walk into the embassy and wait a few minutes until he left. He’d probably watch the place for twenty-four hours or more just to make sure she stayed put.

She’d have to give him some information, something to stop him from probing further. “I’m going to Cartagena before I leave the country.”

“Cartagena? Why? You want to take a boat?”

Cartagena was on the northern coast of Colombia, on the Atlantic Ocean. She’d visited the Walled Old Town at the heart of the city a few times before, when she’d needed to get away from her assignment. “No, I’m not taking a boat. I have to do a favor for a friend before I leave the country. I promised.”

“A favor?” he said slowly.

He didn’t believe her. She envisioned the coca farmer who’d come into her clinic before. The farmer would be the basis for her story. It was always best to stick close to a truth. “Pérez had this one coca farmer beaten as an example to the others. I tried to save him.” She lied and let her shoulders slump in defeat. “Before he died, he asked me to take money to his family.” She shrugged. “I want to do that and then I’ll leave the country.”

“Why don’t you just mail them the money?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Because they deserve better.”

He studied her for a moment. “I’m meeting my team in Panama,” he said grudgingly.

Her eyebrows rose. He was sharing information with her. Did that mean he trusted her a little? From the furrow in his brows, she’d guess no. So what was his game plan? She bit her lip. He must think that she’d cough up more info in response to a show of trust.

“You going to fly or take a boat?” she asked. No one could drive from Colombia to Panama, because no one could cross the Darien Gap between the two countries. The Gap’s unexplored mountainous jungle was a maze of dangers, from fire ants and scorpions to rebels and jaguars. Very few people who went in came out again.

“I’ll borrow something.” He paused. “We should travel together. You could probably use backup for the trip and…meeting the family.”

She could use backup, but not him. “You’re injured.”

“I can still shoot.”

“I’ll think about it.” And the answer would be no.

His eyes narrowed as if he’d heard her thoughts, but he nodded and limped by her into the bathroom. When she heard the shower going, she breathed a sigh but didn’t sit down. Tension still tightened her muscles. The man was a menace to her senses.

She dug out her cell, ignored a text from Damien asking for an update and phoned Ian. No answer. He should have made it to the embassy by now. What if Pérez had him? Ian was innocent in this. Pérez’s man, the one they’d left alive at the clinic, could vouch for that. Shit. She shouldn’t have let Ian travel alone.

She left a message for him to call her and hung up, pacing the room.

They were safe enough for now and should probably stay put for the night. Marc’s leg could use the rest. They were in a city of eight million people; the chances of Pérez’s men finding them were close to zip.

She glanced out the window at the street below. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She tapped her fingers on her leg and then decided to inventory her gear. She knew exactly what she had, but she needed something to do.

Medical supplies were good. Especially considering it didn’t look as if Marc’s leg would get infected. Her gun and ammo were good. They hadn’t used anything. Multiple power bars but running low on water. And she had another change of clothes for herself, plus a wad of cash.

She’d easily be able to go and pick up whatever information Anna had hidden and then get out of the country using a spare fake passport. But how would she do it with Marc tagging along? Maybe she should get him out of the country first.

No. She shoved everything back into the packs. She owed Marc nothing. He was a capable soldier. She’d cut ties with him sooner rather than later. He was too dangerous.

The shower stopped, and a moment later the bathroom door opened. Marc limped into the room, wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and down his hard chest. The towel sat low on his hips. Muscle seemed layered on muscle on his chest and ridged abs. He had the lean strength of a martial artist, rather than that of a body builder, but there was no doubt he was strong.

Her heart rate picked up. Shite, he was bloody gorgeous.

And off-limits.

“I forgot my clothes.” He limped to the pile on the bed that she’d bought for him.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

A glint appeared in his eyes, and he stopped beside the bed, close to her. “You okay?”

There was a damn smile in his voice. “Fine.” She almost winced at the husky sound.

“Good.” He grabbed the clothes.

“Don’t put your pants on,” she blurted out, and her face washed with heat.

He tilted his head, his gaze intent on her.

She bit her lip. “I mean, I’ll rewrap your bandage when you’re done.”

“I know what you meant,” he said quietly. He didn’t look away.

She forgot for a second what they were even talking about. Bloody hell, the man needed to put clothes on ASAP.

He finally turned and went back to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Her breath whooshed out of her. Why was she reacting like this? She wasn’t a teenager who couldn’t control herself. He had her blushing, for fuck’s sake. “Not good,” she muttered as she pulled out the bandages she’d need for his leg.

He came out wearing boxer briefs and the navy t-shirt, and holding the cargo pants. She had herself under control and treated him like a patient, directing him to sit on the bed, taking off the waterproof bandage, assessing the gauze underneath, before rewrapping it in a dry bandage. It wouldn’t do to get his stitches wet yet.

“How’s it look, Red?”

“It looks good.” She stood. “I think we lucked out. There’s no sign of infection.”

“I have a good doctor.”

“I wish I could say I have a good patient,” she teased. “But he likes to run around in the mud and pull his stitches.”

He openly grinned and his eyes lit up. Her heart sped up, even as her lips curved in answer.

Her phone buzzed and she snagged it from the desk, sending a prayer of thanks that it had interrupted them before she’d done anything stupid.

She checked the ID, and all thoughts of Marc vanished. “It’s Ian.”

“Quinn?” Ian’s voice was quiet when she answered. And scared.

“Are you at the embassy?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “I think…I think some of Pérez’s men waited near the gates. I was afraid to go in.”

“Where are you now?”

“In a hotel. Not far from La Candelaria.”

That area wasn’t close to the embassy. They’d need a car.

“I’ll come to you.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was still rush hour, but she should still be able to make it to him without too much trouble.

“No,” he said quickly. “I…I’m safe enough right now. I’ll…I’ll try again tomorrow. But…will you meet me before I go?”

She frowned, wishing she could see his face. “Meet you?”

“If both of us go, then we’ll have a better chance of evading Pérez’s men. We can go to the embassy together.” He paused for a moment. “Please, Quinn.”

She could hear the fear in his voice and the strain. “I’ll meet you,” she agreed.

He sighed loudly. “Thank you.”

“When and where?”

“I’ll…I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

“Why don’t you tell me where you are, and I can come to you now?” He sounded completely spooked.

“No,” he said. “You might be followed. And…and I finally feel safe.”

Guilt struck her. He was in this mess because of her. She understood his paranoia. “Did you make it to Bogotá okay?”

“Yes. It was only when I tried to get to the embassy that I thought I saw some of his men,” he said. “It’s probably nothing. I’m okay. I’ll call you in the morning.” He hung up.

She frowned. She wished he’d let her help him, but different people reacted to fear in different ways. He didn’t know her background, so maybe he believed that she would lead Pérez right to him. She put her phone away and sighed.

“He’s okay?” Marc asked.

At least he was dressed now.

“For now,” she said. “He’s completely freaked.”

“Understandable. So he’s added to our list.”

“Our list?”

He nodded. “First we get him to the embassy, then we go to Cartagena for your friend’s family, and then we exfil to Panama. I feel better with you leaving through Panama rather than risking coming back here.” He smiled at her.

She didn’t smile back. “Since when are we a team?”

“You’re in a tight spot, and you could use backup. Why don’t you let me help you?”

She crossed her arms. “Why do you want to?”

He sat on the bed and stretched out his leg. “Because even though I’m injured, I’m a trained soldier. My job is to protect innocents. It would haunt me to leave you behind without knowing you’re safe. Especially since you’re in this situation because of me.”

He had her. She couldn’t refuse his help without raising suspicions, and she couldn’t tell him she didn’t need it because she was a special operations soldier. If for some reason Pérez caught up with them again, Marc couldn’t have any information or suspicions about her. The less he knew, the safer they both were.

But she could work around him. And he’d be useful to watch her back. “Okay. We work together until exfil to Panama.”

Something flickered in his eyes when she said those words. Did he think she would give away more on the trip? She almost sighed. She was so tired of playing a role. She wanted to go home, to see her brother, her mom, and her friends.

“What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“Because you looked sad for a moment.” His gaze was an intense scrutiny.

“I…I miss my family,” she said, trying to stick close to the truth.

“Family?” he asked. “You’re married?”

Her skin heated. Damn. Why was it always doing that around him? She pulled out the desk chair and sat. No way was she sitting on the bed with him. “No,” she answered. “My mother and brother. It’s been awhile.”

“Why’d you come here?”

“I was sent. They needed doctors here.” She hadn’t had a choice. Even doctors actually with the program didn’t get to choose where they were needed. “I’ve grown to love the place, though. It’s gorgeous, and the people are so friendly.”

“Yeah, Pérez seems like a peach.”

“You know what I mean.” She leaned back in the chair. “And you? Do you have family?”

“Too much sometimes,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “I have two sisters and a brother. My mother rules my family and expects me to marry soon.”

Soon? “You have a fiancée?”

He laughed. “I don’t even have a girlfriend. But Mom…” He shrugged. “She doesn’t see reason when it comes to things like that.” He spoke his next words in a higher voice. “Oy, Marc. It’s time. I want to be a Bubbe.”

She laughed. “Are none of your siblings married?”

“Two of them are.” He grinned. “My mother is a grandmother three times over already. She just wants more grandbabies.” He nodded at her. “Doesn’t your mom ever pressure you?”

She shook her head. “No, never.” She paused as she thought about it. “I think it probably has to do with her being a single mom. Don’t get me wrong—we had a good life. Tough at times, but she did well by us. But I think she’s half afraid that I’ll end up a single mom like her.” Why was it she found it so easy to talk to him? Why was she so aware of him and yet also so relaxed around him?

“Then no boyfriends?”

She shook her head and waved around the hotel room. “When would I have time? Besides, what guy wants to wait while I go on m—tours?”

He only blinked at the quick substitution for missions. Maybe he hadn’t caught her slip, but looking into his face, she knew he had. Why did she keep screwing up around him?

He didn’t acknowledge her slip, only nodded his head. “That must be tough.”

She shrugged, no longer comfortable with this conversation. “I have no complaints.” He looked as though he wanted to delve further into her life, so she changed the subject. “How about I go out and round up some dinner?”

He started to get off the bed. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” she said. “I already told you. You need to rest your leg.”

“It’s getting dark out. We’re partners,” he said with an edge in his voice. “You don’t leave your partner.”

She sighed. “But you also trust them to be able to do the job on their own when needed.” His jaw jutted out so she drove her point home. “I’m going out to get takeaway, not take on any bad guys. I’ll be fine. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“But how do I know that?” Again, there was a deeper question to his words. He just couldn’t stop digging.

“Ex-army and thriller reader, remember?” she said, sticking with her cover. “I’ll be careful, but I’m just getting some dinner. Besides, Pérez’s men don’t know where we are. I’ll be safe.”

He sat on the bed. “Thirty minutes, then I come looking.”

“Fine. But try calling me first?” She rattled off her phone number to him, put on her baseball cap and sunglasses, and left.

After a chat at the front desk for takeaway suggestions, she strode down the block. It was only five minutes later when her phone buzzed with a text.

Make sure you look behind you every now and then. You know…like a spy from one of your books.

She snorted and tapped back a reply.

* * *

Marc stood by the window, watching Quinn on the street below. His phone dinged, and he checked the text she’d sent.

I would never be so obvious as to look behind me. I’m watching reflections in windows. Saw that one in a James Bond movie.

She looked up at the window and shook her head as if chastising him. He grinned. She couldn’t see him or his smile from here, but he couldn’t help it. The woman made him laugh. She turned and moved quickly up the street, weaving between people on the sidewalks. The light was failing, but he watched her for as long as he could.

The farther she got from him, the more he tensed. He shouldn’t have let her go alone.

His phone buzzed.

I know you’re watching. Relax. I can handle takeaway.

His lips twisted. She was right. It was just take-out, or “takeaway” as she called it, but he didn’t like the fact that she was alone. It wasn’t the fact that she was a woman, or not just that fact anyway. He more than trusted Cat or Sarah or any of the other women at EDGE to look after themselves, but they’d had intensive training. And although Quinn was obviously more than a medic, he didn’t know exactly what type of training she’d had.

She’d handled herself well so far and hadn’t freaked out yet. He blew out a long breath. She could handle take-out.

He finally tapped a message back.

I know. I trust you. FYI I like spicy.

The crowd below teemed with life. It seemed to get busier as it got darker. Lights from the businesses and restaurants below sent warm glows onto the people milling below.

His phone buzzed.

I figured you’d like spice.

He tilted his head as he mulled over her response.

Meaning?

You seem like the type of guy who likes things hot. Hot weather, hot food, hot situations.

Was she flirting with him? Another text came in.

BTW not flirting. I meant hot as in contact with the enemy. Not sexy.

He laughed and couldn’t help replying.

I hadn’t thought of sex until you mentioned it.

The response only took seconds to come in.

Why do I not believe you?

You might not believe this, but not all guys think with their dicks.

Just most?

Haha. Concentrate on the food, Red.

She didn’t text back, and he couldn’t see her below.

He tapped out a message, unable to help himself.

Watch your six.

Yes, sir.

He scanned the crowd below, looking for anyone suspicious, itching to pace though his leg protested. He didn’t push it, either. It needed to be on the mend so he could get through the next few days with Quinn.

Why were they really heading to Cartagena? He didn’t believe the story of the farmer’s family. Or did she really think they were out of danger now that they’d left Pérez’s main territory?

No. She had to know what they were dealing with.

It all came back to one question: just who the fuck was Quinn McKenzie?

Minutes later, he spotted her in the crowd below, his eye naturally going to her. She was like a shark among schools of fish, swimming with purpose through the crowd, them parting before her. Her cap was still on, though she’d taken off the sunglasses in the darkening evening.

He watched even after she’d entered the hotel, scanning the street for any other set of eyes that might have followed her movements. Then he moved to the door.

A knock and, after a cursory glance out the peephole, he opened it.

The smell of cooked meat and spices had his stomach growling. He glanced up and down the hall after she’d stepped in, just to make sure no one had followed her.

She was laying out food on the desk when he turned around.

“What’d you do? Order everything on the menu?”

“Bandeja paisa for you.” She opened a foam container. “It’s got a bit of everything. Beans, rice, chicharrón, carne en polvo, chorizo, fried egg, ripe plantain, avocado and arepa.” She smiled and took the other container. “I got myself an order of arroz con pollo.”

“Chicharrón?” he asked, a term he hadn’t heard before.

“Fried pork belly. Better than bacon.”

“Then it’s already one of my favorite foods.”

She pulled out two beers. “The food goes best with a cold beer. I figured one would be fine.”

He popped the top off the beers and handed her one, clinking his to hers. “Thanks for getting the food.”

He sat at the desk with the large container while she plopped on the end of the bed, her smaller container fitting easily into one hand. Her rice and chicken smelled divine, but then so did his mound of food. “I’m going to go into a food coma after this.”

“You need it,” she said simply, focusing on her dinner.

“I’m already better,” he said.

She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You were shot yesterday. You’re not already better.”

“I won’t be left behind tomorrow.”

“You’re lucky I’m bringing you at all.”

He didn’t want to fight, so he let it drop. They ate the rest of their food in silence, and then watched the local news in Spanish.

“We should sleep,” she finally said. “You take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

His eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding, right?”

She grabbed a pillow from the bed. “You’re injured.”

“I have a small wound on my leg. I did not have open-heart surgery. Stop treating me like an invalid.”

“You were shot. I’m treating you like anyone else.”

He stood. There was no way she was going to win this fight. “I’m not like anyone else. Take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Is this because I’m a woman?”

Holy hell. Seriously? He gritted his teeth. “This is because you’re not a soldier. You’re a civilian.”

“I’m not…”

“Yes?” He watched her intently. Would he finally hear what her secret was? “You’re not what?”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not soft. I can handle the floor.”

He shook his head. Stubborn women drove him insane. “For fuck’s sake. Take the bed.”

She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Only if you’ll sleep with me.”

He didn’t smile, or he really tried not to. From the way her eyes narrowed, he wasn’t successful. “I’m not sure I’m ready for such a big step.”

She threw her hands up. “You know what I mean. We’re adults. We can share the damn bed.”

Now he was outright grinning. “Anything you—”

“If you make any more cracks, I will shoot you.”

“Contrary and testy.” He hid his grin. “And of course, I wasn’t going to make any jokes. This is a serious situation, and I’m a very serious man.”

“Just stop.”

He relented. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers. I want to stay dressed anyway and keep my boots on.”

She grasped his words like a lifeline, and he had to smother another laugh. “I’ll do the same.”

They settled on the bed in an awkward silence, lying side by side. It wasn’t a large bed, and he had to hug one side in order to not touch her. Humor fled as he felt the warmth emanating from her. It made him want to roll over and snuggle into it, to press his face into the soft skin of her neck and breathe in her scent, to—

He rolled away from her to face the door. This was going to be a long night.