Back inside the RV, he switched on the lights and felt alarm shoot through him when he saw the pale cast to Jess’s complexion. She had no color whatsoever, except for her lips, which were tinged blue. “Damn.”
Not giving himself time to debate, he began to work the wet clothing from her body. His hands shook as he tugged the soggy sweatshirt over her head. She thrashed and tried to push him away, but Madrid gently set her back down. “Easy,” he said. “I need to get you dry and warm.”
“G’way.”
“Not a chance.”
But his hands hesitated. Jess was stripped down to her jeans and bra. As vulnerable as a woman could be. This was no time for him to notice the silky white flesh of her abdomen or that her limbs were long and lean, just the way he liked. They were in the midst of a life-threatening emergency. But as he reached for the snap of her jeans, he noticed all of those things and more.
She shoved at him as he worked her zipper down. “Don’t.”
“I’ve got to get you warm,” he said, brushing her hands away.
Wide hips and a flat belly came into view. He gritted his teeth against the hard tug of attraction that coiled low in his gut. The hot rise of lust made him feel like a lecher. But while Madrid had always considered himself a professional, he’d never denied he was a man with weaknesses.
“Don’t go there, partner,” he muttered.
But he already had. He’d stripped her down to her bra and panties and for the span of a full minute he could do nothing but stand there and drink in her beauty.
Shaken by his reaction to her, he gave himself a hard mental shake. She needed warmth and rest, not some burned-out federal agent ogling her while she was only semiconscious.
“That’s bottom-of-the-barrel low, Madrid,” he growled, and started for the overhead locker off the tiny head. He pulled two blankets and a pillow from the shelf and went back to the settee. She stirred when he slid the pillow beneath her cheek, but she didn’t open her eyes. Probably a good thing, since he’d end up getting lost in them.
Only when he’d finished covering her with both blankets did he realize his own condition wasn’t much better. He’d been running on autopilot since leaving the shipyard, but the cold had sapped his strength. He felt as if he were moving through a fog. If some goon with a gun came calling, he wasn’t in any shape to do much about it.
Leaving Jess on the settee, Madrid stripped, let his clothes drop to the floor and stepped into the shower. The water wasn’t yet hot, but it was warm enough to get his body temperature back to normal. For now that was the best he could hope for.
He raised his face to the spray and felt his muscles begin to melt. He knew he should be thinking about solving the mystery surrounding Angela’s death. About how he was going to handle the end of his career.
But he couldn’t get Jess out of his mind. He couldn’t get the picture of her out of his head. The image of his hands roaming milky flesh. The sounds of her sighs when he touched her. The way it might feel running his fingers through her silky hair…
He had it bad for her. As far as the MIDNIGHT Agency was concerned, she was a fugitive from justice. He wondered if Sean Cutter had figured it out yet. If his relationship with Jess would expedite his fall from grace.
“First you gotta make it through the night,” he muttered, and turned his face toward the spray.
EVERYTHING HE’D EVER WORKED for was falling apart. A business endeavor he’d been working on for nearly a decade. A business that had afforded him a lifestyle he otherwise would never even have dreamed of.
All because of some two-bit federal agent and Jess Atwood. A freaking waitress, of all things.
They had been on board the Dorian Rae. In custody, in fact. But his men had screwed up, and now they were free. He could only assume they knew everything. That they were dangerously close to blowing sky-high everything he’d worked for.
A knock at the door drew his attention. “It’s open,” he snapped.
The man in the uniform entered the elegantly appointed office overlooking San Francisco Bay. “We’ve got problems.”
“Judging from the way things went down last night, we’ve got a damn train wreck on our hands.” Leaning back in his high-back leather chair, he glared at the cop. “How in the name of God could you let things get this far?”
“I’ve got my best men on it.”
“Some of my clientele are getting impatient. They’re getting nervous. Nervous customers don’t pay.”
“I just need some time—”
“We don’t have any more time!” Pulling himself back, he set his hands on the desk and laced his fingers. “She’s a waitress, for God’s sake.”
The other man flushed. “It’s the agent who’s causing the problems.”
“I don’t need to have problems pointed out to me. I need them solved, and I need them solved yesterday. Do you understand?”
“We’re doing everything we can.”