She climbed up on the thick white comforter next to him, laughing with him at his awkwardness and wondering privately if she wanted him to be a perfect gentleman. She reminded herself sternly that this was not the appropriate time for those kinds of thoughts. Maybe someday in the future when their lives weren’t in danger. If that day ever came.
He took her hand but otherwise gave her space. They both lay back on the stacks of feather pillows. He put his free hand behind his head and looked over at her.
“Yes, see, this is better.”
And it was. It didn’t make sense—she was out of her secured room and farther from her other weapons—but, paradoxically, she felt safer.
“Yes,” she agreed. She slipped the gas mask off her head and laid it beside her.
“Your hand is cold.”
Before she could respond, he sat up and grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed. He shook it out, then settled it over them. When he lay back, he was closer to her. His shoulder touched hers, and his arm lay over hers as he took her hand again.
Why was she so vividly aware of things that, in the grand scheme of survival, didn’t really matter?
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t take this the wrong way—I mean it as the highest compliment and not as a slight to your company—but I think I might actually be able to sleep with you here.”
“I know what you mean. It’s been a long day.”
“Yes,” he agreed fervently. “Are you comfortable?”
“I am. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I might put my mask back on at some point. It’s just a weird sleep habit.”
He smiled. “Like hugging a teddy bear.”
“Exactly like that, only not adorable.”
He rolled toward her and leaned his forehead against her temple. She could feel his eyelashes brush against her cheek as he closed his eyes. His right arm snaked around her waist.
“I think you’re adorable,” he breathed. His voice sounded like he was already half asleep. “And terrifyingly lethal, too, of course.” He yawned.
“Very sweet,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if he heard her. He was breathing so evenly she thought he might already be out.
She waited a few moments and then, carefully, she reached up with her free hand to touch his curls. They were so soft. Her fingers traced his features, totally calm in unconsciousness. It was that same innocent, serene face that had never belonged in her world. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything quite so beautiful.
She fell asleep like that, with her hand tucked possessively around the nape of his neck, the gas mask forgotten behind her back.
CHAPTER 17
Kevin didn’t call.
Daniel didn’t seem to think this was odd, but Alex thought she detected some extra strain in Arnie’s shoulders.
It was too long.
As she’d understood things, Kevin only had to get into a position from which he could follow the one person they knew for certain was involved—Carston. He could have made the drive to DC in two days, even taking it easy. She’d told him exactly where to find her old boss once he was there. It was only a few hours’ work, at most. If Carston wasn’t where he was supposed to be, Kevin should have called. What was he doing?
Or had something happened to him? How long should she wait before suggesting that possibility to Daniel?
The new worry added to her paranoia. She strung an extra lead outside the door to her room so that it could be armed while she was in another part of the house. It was so frustrating, not being able to wire the whole first floor. Just one gas mask short.
On the plus side, every hour hidden helped her face. Under low-wattage lighting and with a lot of makeup, she might be able to escape notice for three or even four seconds.
The wait was an odd mix of boredom, stress, and the strangest kind of happiness. Doomed happiness, happiness with a deadline, but that didn’t make it less… all-encompassing. She should be in a very dark place right now, the pulsing beat of the hunt filling her ears, but she found herself smiling as a default expression. It didn’t help that Daniel was just as inappropriately giddy as she was. They talked about it the next afternoon while watching the news.