No more passive roles, she reminded herself. Except, thinking about all those maybes with Danny scared her hair straight.
Danny's determined strides down the main road took him farther away from her. No surprise, her eyes devoured the look of him. She accepted the attraction, yet in a day full of revelations a final realization settled.
She might not know about tomorrow. And while she felt safer, she knew better than ever to underestimate Kent again.
All she could control were her decisions in the here and now. She was through running from experiencing life, and she damn well intended to make full use of that water bed at the first opportunity.
Sunrise fingering through the bulletproof panes, Danny hooked a foot on the rung of the bar stool. He clicked through computer keys, logging on to the green screen that signified secured communications with Max.
Reaching for his coffee mug, Daniel kept his back to Mary Elise. A power nap, cold shower and two PBJs had recharged him, not enough to face Mary Elise just yet, however. Watching her sleep was a torturous hell, and he wasn't interested in incineration.Well, maybe he was interested.
But he couldn't afford the distraction, and no question, the woman was one endless distraction. At least the security preparations had worked her into an exhausted sleep through the night. Guilt nicked, but Mary Elise at her pit bull most persistent hadn't been budging. Of course she'd been right in asserting they would work faster together.
He glanced at the second laptop sitting alongside, this one set up with security monitors. He'd rigged two video cameras on opposite corners of the cabin, as well as setting alarms on his three major traps, alarms sending radio pulses back to his computer.
His credit card bill would be hell next month, but when it came to Mary Elise, his peace of mind was priceless.
"Come on, come on, come on, Max." Daniel watched for incoming mail. He'd passed along seven possibilities for underworld types who worked the Savannah area. All fit the profile and description in Mary Elise's initial police report.
The fact that no one followed the too-damned-easy trail a year ago turned his vision red. And why the hell had no one questioned the number of McRaes in the Savannah PD signing off on Mary Elise's reports?
Red turned scarlet.
Daniel channeled his anger into productivity, best line of defense for Mary Elise. Any second now he hoped Max would fill in the next block with his feedback on McRae's overseas bank accounts.
The mail icon flashed. Anticipation chugged. "Thanks, Spike."
Daniel opened the file and scrolled through Max's notations, lists of suspicious bank transfers from an overseas account, crossing multiple state and country lines. McRae would burn for this once Max turned the findings over to the FBI.
Scanning, his eye snagging on a line item. A transfer that routed through three accounts before finally ending … in the Middle East four weeks ago.
McRae had tracked her to Rubistan. She'd been that close to death. Could that have been why his father had called? Because of a heightened threat level to Mary Elise?
Unable to resist looking at her, hungry for reassurance that she still breathed, lived, Daniel kicked his heel to spin the revolving bar stool to face her.
Protectiveness fired into afterburners. Thank God she slept deeply and he didn't have to hide anything for once. While waiting for Max's response earlier, Daniel had cruised the Internet for information on endometriosis—a painful, chronic disease he now knew affected at least ten percent of all women.
Had he invaded her privacy? Maybe. No doubt Mary Elise would be pissed. But he needed to reassure himself the stubborn woman wasn't pushing herself.
And yeah, being locked up with Mary Elise made him think of sex and he wanted to be certain he didn't make a lame-ass mistake that would hurt her. Heaven knew the woman went out of her way to downplay her medical needs.
So now he knew. Discomfort during sex could be a side effect for some. Talk about a splash of cold water. And how exactly would he bring that up if the situation arose where they happened to find themselves n**ed together?
An image he did not need but wanted, so much his teeth hurt.
Mary Elise stirred under the patchwork quilt. He turned away from too much temptation arching awake before his eyes. His ears, however, filled in the blanks. The rustle of covers shoved aside to reveal a sleep-mussed Mary Elise. Soft, bare feet hitting the floor. A gentle sigh accompanying a stretch.
He swallowed hard.
Her feet shuffled a groggy path across the floor. The bathroom door snicked open, then closed. Daniel exhaled long and loud. Then straightened. His ears really didn't need to hear the…
Shower.
The whooshing of water tormented him when his reserves already spiraled in a nosedive. The tenor of the water hitting altered with the intrusion of a body.
He had earplugs in his flight suit.
Fliers carried them to combat flight-line noise and he seriously considered using them now for combating insanity. Except he couldn't afford to miss the warning alarms set on the traps. Not that he expected McRae to track them for at least another twelve hours, if at all.