“This is it,” Constantine informed Nicole, inspecting the cave entrance a few feet away, a cave he had explored with his father as a young boy.
The minute he’d registered the way her wet clothes clung to her curves, he ground his teeth. He wasn’t a man without control, and he’d certainly known his share of pleasure, his share of women—some so beautiful, they could bring a man to his knees. They hadn’t gotten to him though, that was the thing. But Nicole just might have that power, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
He found himself lost in an inspection of Nicole, trying to decide why she drove him so insane with desire. Water clung to her lashes, to her lips, her hair soaked to the sides of her face, emphasizing her high cheekbones and full mouth. He followed the path of rain as it dotted her face, her neck, her blouse outlining her full breasts and erect nipples. His cock twitched, and he bit back a growl. He needed to focus on business, not desire. He should bed this woman and get her out of his system. Starting something he hadn’t finished was where he’d gone wrong. That was it. That was what was killing him. Get her naked and beneath him so he could stop fantasizing about it.
The decision made, he savored those plump, pert breasts a moment longer, before his gaze lifted. Their eyes locked, collided actually, in a fiery contact that took his twitch to a full hard-on. Damn it, distraction was dangerous. She was that and more at this point.
“When we go inside the cave, it’ll be pitch-black. Just hang by the wall while I open the door to the hideout. There is light, food and supplies there. We have a few hours before our rendezvous with Flores.”
Her face went instantly pale. “Are we talking about hiding in that cave?”
His brows dipped. “Right. There’s a hidden cavern beneath the surface. Even if they search the cave, they won’t find us.”
“That’s, ah…” She hesitated. “I guess I didn’t mention I’m claustrophobic?”
Once he managed to maneuver her inside the cave, he kept her near enough to the entrance that darkness didn’t completely consume her, giving her time to adjust to the small space.
He pressed her against the wall. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed his wrist, and tightly wrapped one leg around his calf. “Where are you going?” Her voice held panic.
Crap. The woman was killing him. He wanted nothing more than to have those long legs wrapped tight around him, but now wasn’t the time. He was about to say as much when he realized she was shaking. The tough-as-nails prosecutor, who’d barely blinked when faced with guns and a snake, was quaking in her boots over a phobia. Her fear was as irrational as his anger over her mistrust, but that didn’t matter. In fact, somehow it made her seem more human, more vulnerable. The tough courtroom persona that she often showed had fled completely.
Everything inside him went soft in a way he didn’t know he was still capable of. The past few years had made him hard, not easily enticed into sympathy. Just another bit of proof this woman had bewitched him in a big way.
“Easy, cariña,” he whispered, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. Her face was in shadow, but he didn’t have to see it to know the fear it held. He could feel it in the way she clung to him, in the ragged way she was breathing. “I haven’t let anything happen to you thus far, and I’m not now.”
She seemed to struggle with words, her expression tormented. “When I was a kid, I went exploring a vacant apartment complex near my house. I fell through a floor and was trapped for hours under some boards. I’ve…never been able to kick the trapped thing. It’s stupid, but—”
His thumb brushed her lips, silencing the words. “It’s not stupid,” he said, sensing this wasn’t a confession she delivered with ease. His chest tightened with that knowledge, with unexplainable emotion that he didn’t want to feel. “You could have died. But you didn’t and you’re not going to now. I used to come here when I was a kid, actually. With my father. I’ve spent lots of time in this cave.”
Her hands went to his wrists as if she were afraid he was about to leave. “You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Very. And we’ll only be here a few hours before we make our connection with Flores. Give it a try.” He paused intentionally, careful not to push too hard. “Yes?”
She hesitated again, and then said, “Okay.” The one word quivered with discernible apprehension. He was proud of her for the bravery it took to speak it. Phobias were like criminals lurking in the mind waiting to attack, and were hard, often impossible, to defeat. He was lucky that some of the things he’d seen hadn’t done the same to him. Some of his fellow agents hadn’t been as fortunate.