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Authors: No Stranger to Danger (Evernight)
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and turn over what you have on this Conyers guy and someone will swoop in and catch him?" She plunged her hand though the air, closing a fist.
Logan turned to look at her, one brow rising above the other as he shook his head. "Going to the US is the very last option for me right now. I have to get to Caracas. There's someone there who can help and wants to screw Conyers over just as badly as I do."
Mara looked at him confused a moment. "Where is your team? Shouldn't they be helping extract us from … this?" Whatever the hell this was, she still wasn’t sure.
"There is no team. There is me, and there's you," he said.
Mara opened her mouth, but shut it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, and, too, there was the strict policy Logan had always kept. He never really told her anything about what he did, because he couldn't.
"So Caracas, and then? And then what? What about me?" She shook her head and threw her hands into her hair. " How are we getting to Caracas? You mentioned Dakar. That’s in … in…" Her hands fell from her hair to come down her cheeks as her mind finally registered the answer. "We are in Africa !"
He looked at her a long moment, from her hair to her torn dress that rode up to mid-thigh in her sitting position. "Africa," he said and nodded, turning on his side toward her and running a hand up her arm. Gently, he smoothed a finger over the scab on the underside. Logan's brow pinched. "You are along for the ride until I can assure that you are safe, and that means that Conyers no longer has an interest in using you. And then, you go back to your life and I go back to mine."
There was a strange, uncomfortable moment for Mara as her stare locked with his.
A deep hollowness crept up on her and surprised her.
She had never expected to feel that deep, devoid pain again. Especially not because of Logan.
He had hurt her terribly. He had ripped her apart and left her to mend herself—and she had.
Mara jerked herself from his gentle touch and glowered at him, gaining a sharp look.
Logan cleared his throat and glanced away as he lifted himself from the ground. When he had gained his feet, he reached to help her back up. Reluctantly, she slipped her hand into his. When she came to her feet, he let go, and she began to dust herself off again.
Mara gasped at the whack on her bottom, and she swiveled on Logan to find him grinning now.
"Life was always more exciting with me, wasn’t it, sweetheart?" he said, his gaze falling down her.
Mara snorted at him and gritted her teeth as he walked back to the plane and lifted a white cloth sack, tossing it over his shoulder as he started to cross the dune in the direction of the camels.
"Don't think you're going to get out of this without answering a few questions, Logan Cahil . You left me." She couldn’t help it, but her voice quivered. She took a step after him. "You mailed me divorce papers without so much as an explanation. Now you expect me to trust you with my life?"
He stopped and turned back to her, hurt of his own shining in his troubled, dark blue eyes. "I know," he rasped. He looked across the desert and cleared his throat. "I can't help that you have no choice but to trust me. Now, you coming or not?"
Unfortunately, she really did have no other choice but to follow him.
If she did, she would definitely go for option B.
****
1800 hours Monday
Close to the village of Zouérat
Mara groaned. Her head rocked against Logan's chest as they followed along behind the traders on the camel offered in exchange for the drugs. Their pace felt like a waddle, side to side, the endless rocking making her stomach queasier by the second.
"How much longer?" Mara asked on a moan, her words rasping on a dry, scratchy throat.
She smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The last thing she had drunk was the coconut, but that was hours before. Their nomad rescuers had accepted their bribe, but had not offered water once.
"Not far," Logan said low.
One
Logan turned to look at her, one brow rising above the other as he shook his head. "Going to the US is the very last option for me right now. I have to get to Caracas. There's someone there who can help and wants to screw Conyers over just as badly as I do."
Mara looked at him confused a moment. "Where is your team? Shouldn't they be helping extract us from … this?" Whatever the hell this was, she still wasn’t sure.
"There is no team. There is me, and there's you," he said.
Mara opened her mouth, but shut it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, and, too, there was the strict policy Logan had always kept. He never really told her anything about what he did, because he couldn't.
"So Caracas, and then? And then what? What about me?" She shook her head and threw her hands into her hair. " How are we getting to Caracas? You mentioned Dakar. That’s in … in…" Her hands fell from her hair to come down her cheeks as her mind finally registered the answer. "We are in Africa !"
He looked at her a long moment, from her hair to her torn dress that rode up to mid-thigh in her sitting position. "Africa," he said and nodded, turning on his side toward her and running a hand up her arm. Gently, he smoothed a finger over the scab on the underside. Logan's brow pinched. "You are along for the ride until I can assure that you are safe, and that means that Conyers no longer has an interest in using you. And then, you go back to your life and I go back to mine."
There was a strange, uncomfortable moment for Mara as her stare locked with his.
A deep hollowness crept up on her and surprised her.
She had never expected to feel that deep, devoid pain again. Especially not because of Logan.
He had hurt her terribly. He had ripped her apart and left her to mend herself—and she had.
Mara jerked herself from his gentle touch and glowered at him, gaining a sharp look.
Logan cleared his throat and glanced away as he lifted himself from the ground. When he had gained his feet, he reached to help her back up. Reluctantly, she slipped her hand into his. When she came to her feet, he let go, and she began to dust herself off again.
Mara gasped at the whack on her bottom, and she swiveled on Logan to find him grinning now.
"Life was always more exciting with me, wasn’t it, sweetheart?" he said, his gaze falling down her.
Mara snorted at him and gritted her teeth as he walked back to the plane and lifted a white cloth sack, tossing it over his shoulder as he started to cross the dune in the direction of the camels.
"Don't think you're going to get out of this without answering a few questions, Logan Cahil . You left me." She couldn’t help it, but her voice quivered. She took a step after him. "You mailed me divorce papers without so much as an explanation. Now you expect me to trust you with my life?"
He stopped and turned back to her, hurt of his own shining in his troubled, dark blue eyes. "I know," he rasped. He looked across the desert and cleared his throat. "I can't help that you have no choice but to trust me. Now, you coming or not?"
Unfortunately, she really did have no other choice but to follow him.
If she did, she would definitely go for option B.
****
1800 hours Monday
Close to the village of Zouérat
Mara groaned. Her head rocked against Logan's chest as they followed along behind the traders on the camel offered in exchange for the drugs. Their pace felt like a waddle, side to side, the endless rocking making her stomach queasier by the second.
"How much longer?" Mara asked on a moan, her words rasping on a dry, scratchy throat.
She smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The last thing she had drunk was the coconut, but that was hours before. Their nomad rescuers had accepted their bribe, but had not offered water once.
"Not far," Logan said low.
One
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