Chapter Three
Cottonmouth and cracked lips woke Bianca. Her eyelids weighed a ton, and her knuckles burned. Then the twinges along her back added insult to injury. Awareness following discomfort, Bianca jerked as her eyes opened. Beeping machines, a hiss of oxygen, dim lighting, and a swaying sensation all surrounded her.
“Hello there,” an unfamiliar voice greeted her. The woman who appeared in her line of sight wore a uniform, her blonde hair perfectly tucked and pinned. “I’m Corpsman McGinnis, and you’re aboard the USS Seahawke. Do you know your name?”
“Bianca,” she began, but the word came out strained and choked. Coughing, she closed her eyes and grimaced.
“Easy, take a sip of this,” Corpsman McGinnis said, then a straw touched Bianca’s lips. It took a moment to remember how to suck up the water. The cold liquid flooded her mouth like manna from heaven.
She wanted to sigh, but she took several small gulps before the corpsman removed the straw.
“Bianca Devlin.” She managed to state her full name; it still came out in broken syllables and a strained voice. Bianca wasn’t sure what hurt more, her ears or her throat. “I’m a US Aid Worker, identification number four-foxtrot-Charlie-four-five-five.”
“Well, that’s helpful, Ms. Devlin, thank you. You were rescued. You’ve been aboard for about ten hours…”
“Collin.” Bianca tried to sit up, and the aches in her back turned to real lances of agony. She gripped the metal railings of the bed to hold herself up even as the corpsman tried to ease her down. “There was a little boy…Collin.”
“He’s safe.”
A deep, masculine tone wrapped around her, soothing her agitation and jerking her attention from the female corpsman to the hatchway of the ship’s infirmary. The man had to turn sideways to enter. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a huge chest, and a square jaw with a hint of a dimple in his cheek when his lips softened into a hint of a smile… He was gorgeous.
“We got both of you out.”
Sagging with relief, Bianca let the corpsman ease her back into the hospital rack. Exhaustion swarmed her muscles and she closed her eyes. “Thank God.”
“Well, actually, my name is Carlos—my friends call me Cage.” A hint of humor softened his deep baritone and she resisted the urge to laugh.
“Please don’t flirt with me, not when I have no idea what my hair looks like and it tastes like something died in my mouth.” It came out far more a groan than she cared to admit, but his soft chuckle offered a boost.
“Fair enough. I’ll save my flirting for later.” Easy acceptance of her rejection scored him some points.
“Great…can I have more water? And why am I on a ship? All my crap is back at the hotel, not that I have any intentions of returning to that five-star joke.” A cough racked her and she attempted to cover her mouth with her hand. Grimacing, she got a good look at her ragged nails, torn skin, and bruises. So much for the whole spa effect.
When the straw came to her this time, it was Cage who offered it. The corpsman had vanished. Where had she gone? Drinking slowly, Bianca let the liquid fill her mouth. Cage kept his hand steady and raised his eyebrows. When she relaxed her head against the pillow, he set the cup aside.
“Where’d the doc go?”
“She’s right over there,” Cage said, nodding to the far side. She’d have to take his word for it.
“I feel like crap,” she admitted, because sometimes giving voice to what bothered her diminished the power it had over her mood. Her aches and pains didn’t go away, nor did the sensation of her lips tingling and burning. A pinch in her arm when she moved it pulled her attention, and she glanced at the tape at her elbow joint and the tube… Nausea swam through her and she squeezed her eyes closed.
“Hey.” Cage’s warm voice cushioned her terror, and the comfort of his hand on hers grounded her. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
“No,” she answered as honestly as she could muster but refused to open her eyes. “Just realized they stuck needles in me.”
“They stuck… Oh, the IV. Pretty sure it’s just a tube now, the needle is done.” Humor gentled his tone.
“You’re not making fun of me, are you?” Bit by bit, she rallied. Despite her exhaustion, she willed her eyes to open so she could study her visitor.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his earlier humor softening the corners of his beautiful mouth. A man’s mouth isn’t beautiful. The mental chastisement did little to chase away the thrill looking at him gave her. “You’re not in pain though, right?”
Something about his deep, alluring eyes captivated her as flecks of gold danced within the deep swirls of cocoa. It was as though they warned of secrets hidden within him, just waiting to be discovered.
And now I know I’m on painkillers. She was not given to fanciful thoughts, no matter how much she pretended at social functions. It was important to make others feel important, to let them appear to have a mystery hidden inside waiting to be discovered.
“Miss Devlin?” Cage snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, breaking the spell. “Hey, Doc,” he called, glancing away from her. “Is this fogginess to be expected?”
“It’s the dehydration, and a touch of flu, I imagine. She was running quite the temperature when she came in.” His mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “Give her a break, Sergeant. She just woke up.” Then the corpsman appeared in Bianca’s line of sight once more. “I imagine she’s pretty tired, but we can up the pain meds if you think you need them…”
“No,” Bianca said, then coughed. It didn’t matter how much water she’d drunk, her throat felt like the desert. “I don’t like to be muddled.”
“Well, no one does, but it’s also foolish to suffer when we can ease it. Your x-rays showed a couple of cracked ribs and a minor fracture to your wrist. Nothing to worry about.” While she spoke, the corpsman moved around to the IV.
“Minor fracture?” Her personal savior sounded a touch confused by that pronouncement.
“Yes, Sergeant. Minor. We’ve got it in a splint, and she should be fine.” Patience marked the corpsman’s tone. A minor fracture didn’t seem so bad. Though she could have sworn it hurt a hell of a lot more.
“So what’s in the banana bag?” Bianca managed, though she stole a peek over at Cage. He seemed riveted on her, not the doctor.
“Standard fluids, nutrients, and electrolytes. You were in a rough place,” she said, then added a notation to the chart. “I’ve also given you about twenty-five milligrams of tramadol, I can give you another twenty-five.”
Not a willing martyr, Bianca considered the offer. “I’m sore, but I’m not hurting, hurting.” Next to her, Cage released a whoof of breath. Belatedly, it occurred to Bianca she’d finally answered Cage’s earlier question.
“Sorry,” she murmured to him, and managed a half smile. Grinning pulled at her damaged lips and reminded her of a dull throb in her cheek. Oh, they’d hit her with the pistol… “Is my cheekbone broken?” It might explain the swollen sensation weighing down her face.
McGinnis paused, then shook her head slightly. “You’ve got a massive contusion and a laceration. We’ve used a couple of butterfly stitches to close it. You may want to see a plastic surgeon at home, but I didn’t detect any broken bone.”
None? At all? How was that possible? Her mind was full of murky, half-shadowed memories, but that one was clear. They’d hit her with a gun; she remembered the sensation distinctly and the crack when the handle caught her cheek. The pain had been a constant companion in the hut. “Not really worried about a scar.” Her dad might be, but then, he and Mom were going to be too busy to worry about a little cut on her face.
“All right, well now that you’re awake, we’re going to sit you up some here and let you finish this bag. Then, if you’re up for it, we’ll get you some food. Sound good?” McGinnis had a great smile, terrific bedside manner, and a comforting attitude. So why then did Bianca find herself looking at Cage instead?
“Oh yeah, it’s Meatloaf Surprise tonight. Though I hear the officers’ mess might have something more interesting. I bet we could pull a VIP card for you.” Though McGinnis had made the suggestion, it was Cage who helped lift her bed into a half-sitting position. It left her a little dizzy, or maybe it was the nearness of the big man leaning into her as he cranked the bed up.
He smelled great. After choking on sweat, moist jungle, and reeking men soaked in alcohol, a man who bathed was swimmingly attractive. There was something unique about his aftershave; it reminded her of spices, woods, and musk. The scent tickled her nose, made her eyes water, and she jerked her face away swiftly rather than sneeze on him.
The achoo she released climbed a couple of octaves and came out with a wild squeak. Wincing, she glanced at Cage, another apology on the tip of her tongue. His expression, though, held a measure of entertainment and instead of saying she was sorry, she blushed. Heat scorched her face at the simple joy in his eyes.
“That’s a sneeze,” he said softly, without a hint of mockery.
“It’s a thing with me,” she admitted. “I’ve never been a quiet sneezer.”
“Good to know,” he said, settling back onto—oh, he was sitting on a stool. Even sitting, he seemed huge. His presence dominated the room, but he didn’t overwhelm her. “I meant it when I said I’d go get you something else if you’d like it.”
“Why?” The question popped out before she could think better of it. They were total strangers, and she was aboard a military vessel—she’d had the honor before and would have recognized the med bay even if the corpsman hadn’t been in uniform.
Cage wore fatigues, but they were open in the front and showed his tan undershirt. She was pretty sure that wasn’t regulation, but his high-and-tight haircut was. It was sharp, but even with the close-cropped hair there was a hint of curl in the front, as though it didn’t want to stay in line. She kind of liked it. She kind of liked him.
“Why did I mean it?”
“No.” She managed another half smile; this one didn’t hurt as bad as the first. “I meant why are you offering in the first place? You’re not a doctor.”
“Don’t I look like a doc?” Amusement glittered in his eyes once more.
McGinnis laughed. “I’m going back to my office. Give me a shout if you need me.” The corpsman left them alone, but it didn’t bother Bianca to stay with Cage. If anything, the sense of calm she’d experienced when she first laid eyes on him seemed to redouble.
“No, you really don’t,” Bianca said, answering his earlier query. “You look more like a soldier. Or, wait, you’re a Marine. Those are Marine fatigues.”
“You know your MARPATs from your camo, good to know.” The fact he seemed impressed shouldn’t have tickled her, but it did.
“This isn’t my first trip on a military vessel.” Glancing around, she spotted the plastic cup with the straw. It took a little concentration, but she managed to reach out for it and lift it before Cage covered her hand with his and assisted. The contact sent a shiver along her spine.
“You’re stepping all over my hero moves here.” The light teasing softened the rebuke in his tone. “I’m here to help.”
She took a long sip. The water was welcome, cool, and fresh. It didn’t taste like sweat or metallic from having been boiled. “So you’re not a doctor, but you’re here to help. I feel like I should be impressed or privileged.”
“You don’t have to be anything,” he assured her.
They set the cup down. Though she released it, he continued to cradle her hand. A tingle of sensation cascaded along her arm from where their skin touched. His hand was darkly bronzed and left her feeling even paler. She really didn’t tan well. Which kind of sucked considering how much time she spent in the sun.
“Just get better. As soon as Doc clears you, we’ll arrange transport for you back to the mainland.”
“Great.” The information gave her another sense of relief. “I was really over the whole vacation idea anyway.”
“You were on vacation?” A tiny furrow formed as his brows drew together.
What was it about this guy? The weight of his stare should be unsettling, as should his presence—he was a stranger. Yet, the longer he sat there, the more at ease she felt.
Maybe she’d hit her damn head. Belatedly, she acknowledged she did have a head injury. She wasn’t blind, though, and he wasn’t hard on the eyes. It wasn’t his looks but the solicitous manner and the kindness in his gaze invited her trust.
He seemed to genuinely care.
Encouraged, she continued, “Oh, yeah, first vacation in seven years. Really didn’t want to be there in the first place, but Peter—my boss—ordered me to take a few months.” Six months, Peter said, and not a minute less. She needed to get the edge off. Shaking her head, she flexed her hand. The scabs on her knuckles pulled and her fingers ached. “Are you sure Collin is okay? They didn’t hurt him?” The mandatory few months’ break still bugged her, but she’d already had a project lined up to keep busy after the requisite tropical vacation. Tropical vacations sucked.
“No, he’s fine. He was in far better shape than you were. We returned him to his parents, then we airlifted you to the Seahawke. I sent two of my guys with him, and they reported he was very pleased to be reunited with his mother and very concerned about you.”
The weight lifted off of her heart, and she smiled. “He’s a good kid. He fought them when they tried to take him at the resort. One little boy against these really burly men… There was gunfire and an explosion, and I just wanted to make sure he was okay.” Her hand trembled, so she flexed her fingers closed.
“Most people run away from danger.” He didn’t sound like he was criticizing her.
“So why did I run toward it?” It was a fair question. The pain meds must have kicked in again, because she wasn’t usually this chatty. “I work in a lot of…trouble areas. Most gunmen are just bullies, and sometimes you can scare them off when you run at them. Even if I didn’t, Collin’s a little kid, and I couldn’t let him face that terror alone.”
“You’re a hero.”
“No, I’m an idiot. But Collin made it, so I’m okay with being an idiot.” Her eyes were heavy, but she liked talking to Cage. Taking her hand from his, she reached for the water. This time, he didn’t intercept her. Instead, he watched.
“You were brave, I saw where they were holding you. It was a pit. You made a fire, you boiled water, you took hits for him, you made him feel safe. He might have a few bad dreams, but he was really proud of himself and all about protecting you when we got there. That makes you a lot more than an idiot.” Cool assurance filled his tone, and he settled against the metal rail of her bed, arms folded, just watching her.
“I’ll take your word for it.” At the end of the day, she didn’t care what label her actions earned, only that she had successfully navigated the horror of it all and Collin was safe. Her eyes grew heavier. Whether it was the company, the injuries, or the faint swaying of the ship rocking her to sleep, she didn’t know. “Cage…”
“I’m right here,” he assured her, then his hand settled over hers again. His thumb traced the edge of a bandage on her wrist, one she’d barely realized was there until he touched it.
Be bold, Bianca. When else are you going to have a chance like this? “If I wake up in some hospital on the mainland and you turn out to have been a dream, I wanted to let you know…I think you’re pretty hot.”
“Coming from such a pretty lady, I’ll take it.”
“Cool,” she said with a yawn. “That offer to get me what I want still stand?”
“Of course.”
“Tell me a story,” she ordered, letting her eyes drift closed while she held his hand. The content wasn’t important. Letting herself lean on his voice for a while to lull away any other unpleasant memories was her goal.
He hesitated for a long moment, then began to speak. She had no idea what he said, focusing only on his voice. Then she drifted, floating on his smooth, dark baritone.
…
Cage pushed away from the bed after Bianca’s breathing regulated. He hadn’t minded her request for him to talk, and he’d told her about his hometown in Texas of all things. Not that she heard what he had to say. No, she’d drifted so swiftly he could have read her a grocery list.
“She’ll sleep for a while,” McGinnis assured him. “It’s pretty normal with this kind of dehydration and stress.”
“So no signs of shock?” It had been a concern, especially after she’d collapsed in the village. One look at her bruised and banged-up appearance, and the urge to protect her had overwhelmed him. He’d wanted to take her pain himself—he could heal from those wounds so much more easily than she could. Since that hadn’t been an option, he focused on getting her and the boy to safety.
“No, but that doesn’t mean we’re totally out of the woods.” McGinnis was a solid corpsman and medical doctor. She’d taken charge of Bianca as soon as Cage carried her on board. Thankfully, she hadn’t objected to Cage remaining in the med bay; he’d left only twice—the first time to meet with Silver and get an update on Collin. The second time, he went to check in with the captain and apprise him of their status—carefully edited until he could confirm that the bite really was his. A deflection, certainly. One he needed until he could process the full ramifications of the action.
“Do you have a report on her condition?” Not that he had the right to it, but he needed to put together all the pieces. He’d bitten her…there was a very real chance she might turn. It often took more than one bite when they were in their human form, but it wasn’t unheard of for a single bite in their wolf form to transform another.
There was a reason they never left anything living if they attacked in wolf form. No way they could afford an accidental turning. Of the transgressions he could have committed, only the slaughter of the innocent and allowing the death of an innocent outranked the biting of a human.
He wasn’t killing Bianca. Period.
“I’m working on it now, Sergeant. I know you need it for your final report.” McGinnis gave him a look that suggested she was on to him, though her scent didn’t betray any lack of faith. If anything, she radiated a competent if impatient attitude. Heh. Maybe he was invading her territory. Doctors didn’t like to be challenged any more than wolves.
“I appreciate it,” he said, offering her some deference even as he glanced toward Bianca again. He really didn’t want to leave her. Couldn’t really afford to, either. It would be bad enough to report a near miss, but if he had bitten her? Not only would he have to take it up with Jax, captain of the team, but also with Cage’s father.
Neither man would be pleased.
“What’s the fascination?” The quiet question pulled his attention.
“Not sure it’s fascination.” Denying the accusation didn’t make it go away. “She’s got grit—and she was out there alone, against a lot of nasty guys, and she kept it together for her and the kid.”
McGinnis quieted a moment, her expression thoughtful. “Understood, Sergeant. My apologies for suggesting otherwise.”
“She’s a good-looking woman, no need to apologize.” And his interest in her went a shade deeper than her heroism. If his bite inadvertently turned her, he couldn’t let her wander off to face the change alone. He also had to be ready to face the consequences of his actions.
My father won’t be pleased. His heart fisted at the thought of the old man. Reuben Castillo, Alpha of the Guadalupe Pack, would kick his ass five ways from next week. His father had no patience for fools or careless mistakes—he had even less tolerance for them in his son. Cage spent his whole life failing to live up to the old man’s high standards.
“I’ll get back on the report. Are you going to stay with her?”
He’d almost forgotten McGinnis was still with him. Was he going to stay? His guys were back in a ward room, catching a nap before they were airlifted off and back to the Edge. They had to be wondering what was taking him so long, but no one had come looking for him.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m going to go grab her a meal, then bring it back here. Want anything?” If he planned to lift something for Bianca from the officer’s mess, he might as well do right by the corpsman.
“I could use coffee and a sandwich. Nothing fancy or likely to get me written up.”
“Done.”
With a nod, he slipped out the hatch and made his way to the mess. Sandwiches might be easier for Bianca to eat anyway. He could save a fancier meal for another time. Eating what was on hand and available had become a habit, no matter how hungry he was. Thankfully, he’d never been a picky eater, not even at home with his pack. With his team, he’d learned to adapt to every circumstance. They all had their own experiences, habits, and traditions. Blending together meant learning from each other. An unexpected side effect of volunteering, he supposed.
Serving on Bravo Team WOLF was supposed to be his way to achieve respect in his father’s eyes, to prove his value not only to the pack but to the alpha who led them. Reuben had never been only his father; as alpha he couldn’t afford to go easy on Cage.
Even more aggravating, Cage wasn’t even sure most days whether or not he wanted to achieve his father’s approval. Part of him rejected the struggle to rise above pup where his father was concerned. Yet he craved the wolf’s respect. To stand on even footing with him, and be regarded as worthy.
The conflicting desires irritated him every time it came up. He was a grown man, dammit. A veteran wolf, a victorious one. Growling under his breath, he shoved those thoughts aside. He didn’t have time or energy to focus on the ways he’d screwed up over the years. The mission had gone smoothly; they’d retrieved the ambassador’s son and saved Bianca. He was damn proud of his accomplishments.
Except I bit her. He’d fucking bitten her when he’d been saving her. Biting her wasn’t the end of the world. As far as he could recall, it took more than one bite. But he’d been damn careful for years—they were always careful.
Yet he’d bitten her.
So he told himself to stay with her. He should be able to scent if the change had been activated, right?
At the mess, he waited his turn behind a line of sailors. Conversation washed over him from a dozen different directions, but he ignored them. What the hell happened to a human when they were turned? The last one he’d seen had been, what, a little over two decades before? Why did it feel like a million years? He’d been twelve, barely old enough to join the adults on the hunt. Reuben had taken one of the senior soldiers to task for a relationship he’d been maintaining with a woman in the nearby town of Rio del Anton.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cage calmed his wolf. The animal began pacing inside of him restlessly. Too many men in close quarters that he didn’t know. None of his men were around to watch his back—and Bianca was a deck and four partitions away. When it was his turn, he explained to the sailor on duty what he needed and the man went to work. He put together two trays and some fresh coffee in sealed cups.
As soon as he was out of the mess on his way back to the med bay, his wolf stopped thrashing about like a teenager on a sugar rush. Most of the time, Cage’s wolf was a lot like Cage. They enjoyed a good prank, they liked to romp and play, and when given the option, they preferred to be left alone.
McGinnis was on the horn talking to someone when he stepped inside, so he put her tray on her desk and carried Bianca’s over to the bed. The beautiful woman continued to sleep, her chest rising and falling steadily. The monitors beeped her heart rate and other details. All seemed normal, and his nostrils flared as he sampled her scent…fresh and full of zest, like a bright day exploring hill country with sweet, unexpected turns.
Homesickness swamped him, and his wolf sighed. Placing her tray on the table, he took possession of his coffee and sipped it as he resumed his spot at her side. Realistically, since he bit her, he had to have a plan in place before he addressed the issue with his captain or his father.
Of the two men, Jax would likely be more lenient. Especially in light of his successful pursuit of Kat. Though Kat hadn’t gone through the transformation yet, it was on the schedule. They held off because no one on the team or in the packs wanted the government aware they could turn anyone. The couple was wildly devoted to each other, and it was enough to make even the most confirmed bachelor wistful for the opportunity of more.
Dropping his gaze to Bianca’s bandaged wrist, he tested her scent again. It had been her blood he tracked through the jungle. Filthy, worn, and battle weary, there had also been sunshine and sweetness in her scent.
At least they’d found her something else to wear. The white bathing suit had fit her compact, curvy form well, but it hadn’t provided near enough protection. Bianca had been adorable, a combination of shy and spunky. Earlier, she hadn’t seemed to want him to flirt with her, worried about her looks, and yet she hadn’t shied away from self-deprecation at his questions. She’d teased him in return, or at least the hint of it had been there in her attitude.
Despite the tear tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, she’d not given into hysterics or terror. Instead, she asked questions and assessed her own choices. Different and charming in equal measures. When the doc cleaned her up during her treatment, Cage hadn’t been able to look away. Her hair was dark brown and hung to near her shoulders. It had a funny kind of uneven cut; he didn’t know what women called it.
Her eyes were hazel and reminded him of fancy stones in water with sunlight refracting through it. I’m turning into some weird poet. Those pretty eyes were still closed. Admittedly, his favorite thing about her besides her admirable courage, sense of humor, and self-deprecation was the raspy notes in her voice.
The husky tenor stroked over him like an invitation for sex and play. Both options intrigued him, and not just because she was hot—which she definitely was—but because she was tough and determined. Resourceful, too.
A soft sound escaped her parted lips, and he straightened. Her eyelids began to move, but she didn’t wake. No, she had to be dreaming. Her respiration increased and the pulse monitor began to leap. Fear stained her lemony scent.
Not a dream. A nightmare.
Trusting his instincts, he took her hand. “Shh, I’m here,” he told her in a low voice. “No one is going to hurt you.”
She calmed almost immediately, and his wolf puffed a little. They’d protected her, even if she was asleep and he couldn’t kill whatever haunted her dreams. He had a good idea of what it was, and bad dreams were pretty normal after the terror she’d experienced.
Respiration returning to normal, she released a little sigh, and her pulse continued to calm. Satisfied, he released her, then it began all over again. When her agitation grew evident, he put his hand over hers.
She calmed.
Fine. He’d sit there and hold her hand. He didn’t have a problem with that.
“Sergeant,” McGinnis called from her office. “I’ve got that report for you. Do you want me to give you the rundown or just read it later?”
“Just give me a list of her injuries for now, then I can read the full report after.”
The corpsman exited her office and set the report on the table near Bianca’s tray. “As I said earlier, two cracked ribs and fracture to her wrist. She may need to have it casted, but for now the splint will do. Dehydration, several lacerations along her legs and arms. Likely from traveling through the jungle. Her knee is torn up, but that’s a surface scrape, probably going to hurt like a bitch later. We’ve cleaned it out, and packed it with antibiotics. She doesn’t need stitches there. Some abrasions to her fingers and palms. Again, not pleasant, but also not life threatening.”
Cage listened to the full recitation and bit by bit his tension left him. Those were all expected injuries.
“Contusion on her cheek, severe bruising, and I already said she might want to see a plastic surgeon.” McGinnis flipped through her report. “Oh, and one anomaly, but I did go ahead and give her a tetanus and rabies booster.”
Cage’s heart sank.
“She has some kind of animal bite on her wrist, fairly deep, but it avoided slicing any veins so she was fortunate there. Did you notice any dogs where you retrieved them?”
It hadn’t been a dog.
“No,” Cage said, his voice a little thick. “I didn’t.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, might have happened on their trek, stranger things.”
“Yeah, stranger things.” He glanced at the report, then McGinnis. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem. It’s my job. I’m going to eat, and you should get some rest, Sergeant. You’ve been in here all day, and she’s not going anywhere till the flight comes in.”
“You got orders for her?” Interest curved through him. He’d bitten her. She was his responsibility.
“Came in while you were on the coffee run. She’ll be transported off with your team. Probably so they can debrief her at the same time they debrief you.”
Glancing at the folder, Cage nodded. That gave him more time to figure out what to do. “Thanks, McGinnis.”
“Welcome.” Then she was back in her office, and Cage was left with Bianca.
“I’m sorry, Bianca,” he said quietly. “Hopefully I don’t screw this up for you, and I hope you don’t mind getting to know me better. We’re about to become buddies.”
If he survived telling the captain, that was.