The tunnel was six feet tall, which meant he had to hunch slightly to avoid scraping his scalp. No big deal there. But widthwise, there was only room for one adult at a time. He’d have to squeeze past Amy and her children to take the lead. The kids? Piece of cake. But the woman . . . hell . . . he’d be rubbing against places he had no business rubbing. Tantalizing places.
He shut that line of thought down fast and scrambled for a distraction. Luckily there were plenty of questions on hand. Like why hadn’t Wolf’s perimeter alarms sounded once their camp had been breached? Wolf had run through the exterior alarm system at the same time he’d shown him the catacombs and given him the access codes. The alarm systems were state of the art. All the bells and whistles. And a perfect example of why it was never wise to depend on someone else for one’s personal safety.
As he started the excruciating process of sliding past Amy’s petite, sturdy frame, which involved far too much rubbing of chests and thighs, his concentration fractured.
Christ . . . she felt good. Too good. All taut, toned muscle and warm flesh. And then there was that clean fresh scent he’d noticed earlier. It reared up to fog his mind and mess with his reason. He held his breath, sucked in his gut, and pressed harder against the concrete wall. Even so, he couldn’t avoid physical contact. Hell, while the brush of his bare arms against hers was light, more skim than caress, the contact was enough to send sparks cascading through his blood and launch an electrical sizzle in his belly.
He happened to catch her eyes as he squeezed past her, his chest rubbing across hers, and he saw something in the hazel depths he didn’t want to see. Something hot. Something sensual. A molten shimmer that told him clear as hell that she was feeling the same charged attraction he was feeling.
Son of a bitch . . .
It was the very last thing he wanted to know. It was hard enough keeping his own lust in check. But to know she shared it—fuck. That’s what he was—fucked.
Frustration surged as he wrestled his mind back in line. They needed a major distraction, and he had just the topic. It was sure to spark a reaction and send her backpedaling all the way down the mountain.
“You do realize that your boys are tagged, right?” he told her. His voice emerging rougher and more confrontational than he’d intended. He frowned and tried to modify his tone. “The camp’s been secure for days. We bring your boys in and, boom, twelve hours later security’s been compromised. Your boys were followed. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Amy waited until he’d squeezed past before responding. “They changed clothes completely. Right down to their skin. There was nothing that could have been chipped. The timing’s a coincidence.”
But her voice lacked confidence. She didn’t sound like she believed it herself.
“Then it’s a hell of a coincidence,” Mac countered. “And too damn convenient if you ask me. If they shucked everything, then the tracking device has to be beneath their clothes.”
Hell, it was common practice to insert identification chips in pets, how much harder would it be to insert a tracking chip beneath someone’s skin? Not difficult, for damn sure. But if that were the case—then they had a huge problem on their hands.
If the device was still transmitting their location—and why wouldn’t it be?—then they were leading their assailants directly to the rendezvous site, thereby jeopardizing everyone.
* * *
Chapter Ten
* * *
YAWNING, FAITH LEANED against the kitchen counter and watched the coffee level creep up the glass decanter. Dawn barely brushed the sky, but her camp mates were early risers and big coffee drinkers. As morning rolled into afternoon, she’d be measuring coffee grounds and filling the machine with water at least three, possibly four more times. The only two people in camp who didn’t overdose on coffee every day were her and Rawls. But then, her hot beverage of choice had always been tea. As for Rawls, he was rarely in the kitchen, and when he was, it wasn’t to eat or drink.
Turning, she stared out the window, scanning the lightening landscape. Where was he? From eavesdropping on Zane and Mac the night before, she knew he’d abandoned camp to bed down in the woods.
Why? Was it because of her? Because of what had happened between them? She glanced at the kitchen table. He’d held her on his lap over there, stroked her hair, and caressed her back. Even kissed her.
Of course, he’d rejected her there too.
Surprisingly, the rejection didn’t sting. Maybe because it had been so strange. Plus, it had been obvious that he was interested in her. He couldn’t hide the bulge pressing against her bottom, clear evidence that he’d been as aroused as she’d been. She hadn’t been wrapped in that fog of sensuality by herself. He’d been caught in the spell right alongside her.