Inside, he felt different. She did that to him somehow. The mystery was sweeter when he didn’t try to figure it out. Which was totally unlike him. But he needed what she offered. Had to have it. More, please.
He pressed his hot face to her hair, which was damp. A tang of salt overlaid the scent of honey and flowers. He breathed her in, trailing his fingertips through her hair, motionless otherwise. Could have stayed that way for hours.
But she sat up, and gazed down at him. “Noah,” she said.
He braced himself. He knew what she was going to say. Her mind was wide open to him now.
“Do you trust me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Say what you need to say. Don’t try to trap me with words.”
“I’m coming with you tomorrow,” she said.
His whole body clenched up. Pain flared in his jaw. “We’ve been through this,” he growled. “We’ve got multiple plans in place to track Mark if he doesn’t get close enough. You don’t have to risk it.”
“But if he sees that I’m there, he’ll come for me,” she said. “He can’t help it. And you can finish this. Otherwise it’s going to drag out into a long, ugly war.”
“He wants war, he’ll get war.”
“I’m the one who doesn’t want it,” Caro said forcefully. “I want a future with you. I want my man. I want our life. That can only happen if I’m there with you tomorrow to meet Mark. You know that I’m right.”
He shook his head. His voice felt trapped, like a rock blocked his throat.
“No,” he forced out. “You can’t be there.”
She pressed her hand to his heart, as if she knew somehow exactly how to chill his combat program. His data scroll started to slow down instantly.
“It’s not up to you anymore,” she told him. “It never really was to begin with.”
Their eyes locked, and she read his mind as effortlessly as he could read hers.
“And no, you can’t lock me up,” she said. “Mark Olund does evil shit like that, but people who love and trust and respect each other don’t. I won’t be stupid. I’m not volunteering for actual combat, believe me. But I’m taking my chances tomorrow.”
He hung onto himself until he could speak normally. “Caro, I just want to keep you safe.”
“You gave me what I need to stay safe,” she said. “It’s an incredible gift. I’ll always be grateful. Now trust me. The way I trust you.”
He closed his eyes. The combat program made his body tense, buzzing with desperate urgency. Kill plans winking and flashing, fountains of scrolling data, all tinted hot red. And her hand pressing his heart. Keeping him steady.
She was right, that her presence made their odds better. And he fucking hated it.
“You’ll follow orders,” he said harshly. “Do as I say. Show yourself when I say, disappear when I say. Go where I tell you. On the double.”
Her smile was radiant. “Of course.” She bent to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “Just one more thing.”
“Spare me.”
“Sleep,” she said.
That took him entirely by surprise. “What? Huh?”
“I mean real sleep,” she said. “Not that fake soldier sentinel bullshit. I’m talking real, normal, human sleep. That’s what you need.”
He was baffled. “I don’t remember how. It’s been years.”
Caro tugged the covers down from the bed, nudging him until he rolled off them. She slid between the sheets and held out her arms. “It’s easy. Come on, try it. I’ll hold you.”
He wasted no time taking her up on that offer, settling her lithe body over his non-dominant arm. She snuggled close, petting his chest hair, easing her smooth thigh over his. Felt great. But he wasn’t sleepy. Nor was he likely to be, ever.
But who gave a shit? This was right where he wanted to be. He’d fake it if it made her happy. Forever.
But eventually, he actually did synch himself to the slow, hypnotic pulse of Caro’s colors. If he focused on that, he almost succeeded in not thinking about what he was risking tomorrow.
Almost.
Chapter 32
Mark spoke into his wrist com. “How many thermals can you see?”
Static buzzed until Ty responded. “Four, inside. Three men, from the size of them. There’s a smaller one with them who could be a woman.”
Mark pondered that. The possibility that Asa Stone had actually kept to the terms of their bargain made him even more suspicious than an obvious betrayal. Stone was playing a deeper game. That fact stood out. Mark had studied the man exhaustively in the past few days.
He tracked the multiple images on the monitors that came from the vidcams of the slave soldiers, as well as the images from the brain-linked drones that the slave soldiers controlled. Brenner was on his way to verify that Caroline Bishop was physically at the meeting place. The others he had outfitted with cloaking gear and sent out into the forest to encircle the ruined, abandoned nineteenth century mansion.