“You really mean that,” she murmured.
“Yes.” He nibbled her lips. “Now, more of your sweet body, and lots of your cupcakes, those I want.”
“I’ll take a Ferrari,” Shep said.
She jerked. She’d forgotten the other man was there. Shep headed for the door.
“My cue to leave. Thanks for dinner, Gemma. I’ll see you two in the morning.” Then he was gone.
Gemma wound her arms around Boone, and he pulled her close. Right here, she felt safe. Like nothing could touch her.
“Boone, Flux is worth a lot to Carruthers. He’s not gonna stop coming after me.”
Boone’s grip tightened. “Carruthers is not touching you, Gemma. I swear.”
Boone eyed the mine structure high on the hill above them. It was a dilapidated wooden building clinging to the hillside. Below it was a patch of yellow aspens surrounded by dense evergreen trees.
He was sitting on the porch, watching Gemma and Atlas run around on the grass.
He hadn’t had a nightmare last night. He’d spent the night spooning Gemma, or fucking her, and the rest of the time, he’d slept like a log.
Then he’d started his day with his head between her legs, after which they’d had a very long shower.
Despite everything going on, he hadn’t felt this light in a long time.
Must be the good food, cupcakes, and hot sex.
No, that wasn’t the truth. It was Gemma.
She’d woken him up.
And she was in more danger than he’d thought. His hand clenched into a fist. Whatever he had to do to keep her safe, he’d do it.
The rumble of Shep’s truck caught his ear. His friend had left earlier this morning to head into the local town for some things.
Shep parked, then sliced out of the truck, and Boone stiffened. He knew his friend well enough to tell he was tense and worried about something.
Shep headed over, watching as Atlas leaped on Gemma. She went down, giggling as she play-wrestled with Boone’s dog.
Damn, watching the pair of them made his chest tighten.
Shep leaned against the porch railing.
“I’m guessing the trip to town didn’t run smoothly?” Boone said.
“There are some guys in town. Asking questions. I couldn’t risk getting too close, but I reckon they’re your mercenaries.”
“Fucking hell.” Boone bit off a curse. “Shep, how the hell could they have found her? They’ve managed to track her—” He broke off, horror dawning.
Shep cursed. “They have a tracker on her.”
“She has new clothes—”
“It has to be on her body somewhere.”
Fuck. Boone rose. Another violation of Gemma’s life. “If they have a tracker, why are they asking questions in town? Why aren’t they here already?”
Shep’s mouth flattened. “Reception sucks here. Maybe they can’t get an exact lock on her, just a general area.”
They didn’t have a lock on her yet, but he knew the clock was ticking.
He looked up and saw Gemma watching him. Her smile was gone, and her face was pale. Slowly, she walked over.
“What’s going on?”
“Shep saw some of the mercs in town.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding. How are they here?”
Boone walked down the steps and cupped her face. “We’ll take care of it.”
“How do they keep finding me?” There was an edge to her voice.
She’d already coped with so much. He wouldn’t let her break. “We think they put a tracker on you.”
Her eyes went wide, her freckles stark on her cheeks. “A tracker? But I’m wearing different clothes, and we have clean phones.”
“Do you have a scratch or cut that you didn’t have before your abduction?”
“Yes. You know I do. I got banged up escaping—” She sucked in a sharp breath. “They put a tracker inside me. In my body.” A wild look crossed her face, and she shook her head. “No. God, no.”
“Gemma, it’s okay—”
Her fingers gripped his forearms, nails biting in. “Get it out, Boone. Please. Now.”
“Okay. Okay.” He looked at Shep. “Take care of Atlas for a minute.”
Shep nodded. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
As Boone led Gemma into the cabin, his dog barged forward to follow.
“Atlas, go with Shep.”
Atlas ignored him and pressed against Gemma’s legs.
Boone sighed. “Fine. Come on.”
He led her to the bathroom, and Atlas followed.
“Let me check your scalp and hair first.” He worked his fingers through the silky strands. She was biting her lip.
“I’ll check your healing wounds next.”
She nodded.
“It’ll be best if you take your clothes off.”
She wrinkled her nose and shoved her leggings down. “This is an unfun reason to get naked.” Her sweater and shirt followed. It left her wearing a simple black bra and panties, but his body still responded regardless.
She held out an arm, and he gently probed the scratches. There was nothing that he could feel. He checked her feet and up her slim legs.
“I have a scratch on the back of my neck? But I got that after I escaped from them.”
Boone stood behind her and pushed her hair aside. He checked the still-healing wound, but didn’t find a tracker.
He met her gaze in the mirror and saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. They killed him. “So brave.”
She sniffed. “I don’t feel brave.”
“Any other scratches that are bothering you? That are itchy? Swollen?”
Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t think—” She gasped. “Wait. My hip.” She shoved her panties half down.
Boone ignored the sweet curve of her belly the best he could. His gaze locked on the ugly scratch by her left hipbone.
“I thought it was just a little infected.”
He gently probed and felt a lump.
She made a sound. “It’s there. I can tell from your face.”
He nodded. “I need to cut it out.”
“Do it.”
“I don’t have any anesthetic. It’ll hurt.”
Her chin lifted. “I don’t care. I just want it out.”
He gripped her hips, then lifted her onto the vanity. He pulled out the first aid kit. Inside, he found a scalpel and some antiseptic wipes. He disinfected the blade, then swiped a fresh wipe over her hip. He lifted the knife. Beside him, Atlas growled.
“I know, boy. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Gemma touched the side of Boone’s head. “But you need to, so you can keep me safe.” Her other hand reached down and gripped Atlas at the back of his neck. “Do it.”
“Baby, I don’t want you in pain.” He felt like his chest was filled with bricks.
She leaned forward and kissed him. “I need you, Boone. Get that thing out of me.”
Nodding, he gritted his teeth. Then he pressed the scalpel to her skin and started to cut.
She hissed. He kept cutting, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Atlas made an unhappy sound.
It felt like an eternity, but finally, the cut was wide enough. Boone set the bloody scalpel down in the sink, and picked up some tweezers, quickly giving them a wipe, as well. Bracing himself, he dug into the wound.
She made a low sound.
“Almost there, baby.”
She nodded. “I’m okay. Keep going.”