Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents 7)

Jack crouched over her. Others were running toward them now. His fingers slid to her throat. Felt for her pulse.

Alive.

Jack exhaled slowly. “You shouldn’t have been in the car with him.” This was all Dylan’s fault.

“Rachel!”

Jack jerked at the bellow. His head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. So Dylan had survived, too.

Unfortunate.

But Dylan was on the other side of those flames. Dylan couldn’t see him. Not yet.

It had been so long since he’d touched Rachel. Jack’s fingers slid over her throat.

Her eyes fluttered, then cracked open. It was dark, and the flames were behind him. He wasn’t sure that she could see his face.

Even if she did, would she recognize him?

Doubtful. He slowly slid back. Bodies bumped into him. People who were eager to help Rachel.

And the EOD agent was fighting to get to her side.

He backed up a bit more and took off his baseball cap. It would be easier to just blend in with the crowd.

He was good at blending in.

Dylan Foxx rushed by him, so close that their shoulders collided.

Dylan didn’t even spare him a second glance. The man was too consumed, too focused on Rachel.

Anger churned within Jack. She isn’t yours, Agent Foxx. She never will be.

* * *

RACHEL OPENED HER EYES and saw a swirl of faces above her. And just behind them, flames shot into the sky.

She was pretty sure those flames had been a car a few moments before.

“Dylan!” She shoved to her feet and pushed through the crowd that had gathered. Where was he? Where—

Hard hands caught her and yanked her tightly against a strong, muscled body. The scent of smoke clung to Dylan as he held her in a grip that crushed her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get out,” he whispered. His mouth was close to her neck, his breath rushing over her skin.

She held him just as fiercely. They’d both nearly died in that car. “He did it.” Jack. He’d set Dylan up to die.

Only... You came back to warn me. He’d wanted her out of the car, and he’d rushed toward them just before the vehicle exploded.

If Jack had been at the scene then... Rachel pushed against Dylan. “He’s still here.” Her gaze scanned the crowd of onlookers. Some were staring at the flames with wide eyes. Some were even snapping pictures on their phones.

“He had on a baseball cap,” she whispered. That part she remembered.

And she remembered the sound of his bellowing cry. Rachel! Get out!

He’d been ready to watch Dylan die, but he hadn’t been ready to let her go.

Fury churned within her. She turned so that her back bumped into Dylan’s chest. There was one man close by who wore a baseball cap. He was snapping a picture of the flames. But he was too small to be Jack. He appeared to be barely five foot seven, and Jack—he was well over six feet.

Where are you?