Yet how common where he'd lived. "When you grow up where I did, it's tough to trust other people no matter who your father is. Simple mistakes had major repercussions in my building. Somebody down the hall talks about a new color television—break-in happens. Guy on the floor above forgets to lock the door—his sister gets raped."
"No mistakes? You can't expect yourself to be perfect."
"Believe me, I know better than anyone that I'm far from perfect."
Five years ago when he and Sara had argued on the embassy lawn, he'd been too caught up in his pissed-off frame of mind to take note of his surroundings in a country at least as dangerous as his old neighborhood. Sara had paid a horrible price for that lapse. Lucia, too.
Three days ago, he'd again been too distracted to do his job and now one of his crew members was out there somewhere—and he hoped like hell she was still alive.
"Is something else wrong?"
He thought about brushing aside her concern. But hadn't he sworn he would try harder this time to get closer, slower, build something with her? Angling up, he swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge, his back to her. "One of my crew members came looking for me shortly before the attack broke out back at the compound. She's missing."
"Dios." Her horrified gasp echoed the horror swelling inside him. "Padilla?"
"We don't know. Search-and-rescue teams are combing the area and there's not a damned thing I can do except wait."
Looping her arms around his waist, she rested her cheek against his back. "I'm so sorry. If you hadn't been there looking for me..."
"It's not your fault."
"It's not yours, either."
He clasped her hands folded over his stomach rather than answer and start an argument.
"You're never going to believe that, are you?"
He raised her hands up to kiss them without answering.
"That must be a heavy burden on your shoulders — being perfect and responsible for everyone."
Well hell, that wasn't the sympathy he was expecting when she'd hugged him. Here he was, trying to get closer and she was being sarcastic—and diverting him from the subject by reminding him not to take himself too seriously.
He peered over his shoulder at her. "You're not gonna cut me any slack tonight, are you?"
"Is that a problem?"
She stared back with brown eyes full of mischief—and yeah, sympathy, too. And hey, weren't those her br**sts pressed against his back?
He needed to move away from her when he was feeling so raw, but after the day from hell, he couldn't make himself leave the comfort of her body against his. Sara always seemed to know just how to glide under his skin in a way no one else ever had.
"I'm glad you're here with me tonight." One part of him more visibly glad than others.
Her face was so close he could angle back a couple of inches and kiss her. He shook with the restraint of holding himself in check. Her eyes went smoky-brown.
Then looked straight down to his lap.
He winced. "Adrenaline plays tricks with a guy's system."
The stroke of her gaze proved as potent as if she'd wrapped her fingers around him. He twitched in response.
Her fingers twisted in his T-shirt, her tongue peeking to dampen her lips. "What should we do with that impressive abundance of adrenaline?"
Chapter 11
Her vision full of impressively aroused Lucas, Sara waited for his verdict on her question. She knew he still wanted her...gracious, did she ever know at the moment. But he was such a practical, somber soul and their past days together hadn't been easy.
He would undoubtedly need persuading to take what they both needed.