Going Dark Read online

  Furious at herself when her cheeks started to warm, she forced her gaze away. Physical attraction. That was all it was. That was what had made her dissolve the moment his lips touched hers. What had caused her pulse to leap and her heart to beat like a frantic drum. What had made her bones melt and her blood catch fire—everything catch fire.

  Annie had experienced something like this once before, although it had been a long time ago. She recalled the one and only date she’d had with the high school quarterback.

  He’d looked good in football pants, too.

  Shane Madison had pretty much looked good in everything. Tall, solidly built, with an impressive amount of muscle for a high school boy, he was an all-around super guy: smart, confident, and good-looking. Maybe a little cocky, but he was so charming you didn’t really notice.

  She (along with most of the other girls in the school) had been half in love with him for three years in high school before he asked her out their senior year. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he’d noticed her or only dated cheerleaders; he just didn’t seem very interested in dating. He had big plans—the details of which she hadn’t been aware of at the time—and was concentrating on football and a heavy slate of AP classes.

  That was how everything had changed. They’d been paired off as lab partners in AP Chemistry—which turned out to be appropriate. The chemistry between them had been reactive. Off the charts. Elemental. She’d nearly given up her virginity in the backseat of his car on their first—and only—date.

  That wasn’t the problem. The problem was when she found out what he wanted to do. Shane was working so hard in school to get into Annapolis. He wanted to go to the United States Naval Academy and have a career in the military. He’d even mentioned—shiver—that if things went well, he was going to try to be a SEAL. She had no doubt he would do it. Shane was the kind of guy who could do anything he put his mind to.

  Her dad would have loved him. Or her dad would have loved him before the war destroyed him.

  What was it about big, strong guys and wanting to save the world? Alphas, her mom called them. Annie called them wannabe heroes. Either way she had no interest. She wanted someone she could count on. Someone who would be there for her. Someone who was normal.

  She refused to sign up for more of the same pain, which meant it couldn’t go any further.

  The Monday after their date, she’d asked the chemistry teacher to find her a new partner. Shane had called a few times, but she told him it wasn’t going to work out. Eventually he believed her.

  Unconsciously, maybe, she’d avoided the type since then. Until now. Dan reminded her a lot of Shane. An older, harder, more dangerous, not as charming and carefree version maybe, but otherwise the same confident, take-charge, “there isn’t anything he couldn’t do” persona.

  Similar builds, too, although Shane had been a boy, and Dan was definitely a man with the years of added muscle to prove it. The captain was also a couple of inches taller at six-three or -four.

  She felt a twinge of awareness she didn’t want to remember—exactly how her hands had felt all over his body—and quickly quashed that train of thought. It was physical attraction—extremely strong physical attraction maybe—but nothing to be worried about.

  Apparently she had a weakness for a few muscles, so what? She was sure that was a weakness shared by a lot of women. It wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t a big deal. Just as he said.

  She needed to stop imagining feelings that weren’t there. This was about her libido, not her heart. Lust, not love.

  Love? What was she, a twelve-year-old girl drawing hearts in her journal? Nearly dying—twice—was obviously making her a little crazy.

  He’d knocked out whatever had been blocking the flue and was rebuilding the fire by standing the dried turf blocks over a stack of kindling in a pyramid shape. Using a flint and a stone that he must have picked up outside on the way in, he struck it until one of the sparks caught.

  “You would have made a good Boy Scout,” she said, breaking the silence. Then suddenly realizing that she knew nothing about him, she added, “Were you a Boy Scout?”

  “An hour ago you thought I was a serial killer. Now a Boy Scout?”

  He hadn’t answered the question. Clearly he didn’t want her to know anything about him. Which rankled. They were in this together. Didn’t she deserve to know what she’d gotten into?

  “Weren’t you the one telling me not to be so naive? To ask questions? Well, I’m asking them. If the police are chasing you, don’t I deserve to know who I’m on the run with?”

  “Slow down, Bonnie. You watch too many movies. I didn’t say the police are chasing me.”

  “That’s the problem. You didn’t say anything. You lied about being American and are clearly hiding something. You had no interest in waiting around for the coast guard, so what else am I supposed to think?”

  He shrugged as if what she thought was immaterial. “I have my reasons.”

  Prying information from him was like squeezing water from a rock—and provoked about the same level of frustration. She felt her temper rising. “Why don’t you share a few of them?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business.”

  Ouch. Nothing like the slap of cold, hard truth to make the skin sting. Although unfortunately it wasn’t just her skin stinging. But she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. “No, you just had your hand down my pants. Why would I think you owed me anything?”

  She turned away, but he stepped toward her and caught her arm. “Annie, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

  Hurt her feelings? She should thank him. Now she wasn’t stinging; she was furious. “You can’t tell me anything about yourself?”

  He dropped her hand. “It’s better that way.”

  “Better for who?”

  He didn’t answer. She stared into his eyes, looking for any crack, any sign of weakness. She should have known better. “Just tell me, is it something illegal?”

  He couldn’t be a drug smuggler . . . please.

  He shook his head. “It’s not.”

  “But you are in some kind of trouble?”

  Apparently she’d gotten as much out of him as she was going to get. He ignored the questions and went on with the business of getting the place habitable. She watched as he retrieved his backpack and started pulling out items and setting them on the table. Not a Boy Scout, huh? He certainly came prepared.

  It took her a moment, but eventually she figured it out. She sucked in a breath through lungs that were suddenly on fire. The back-off attitude and scruffy appearance had prevented her from seeing it sooner. And he didn’t have the usual swagger and cockiness, but after seeing him in action today, she knew. “Army, navy, air force, or marines?” she asked.

  Fourteen

  Dean hoped to hell she hadn’t seen him flinch. But when he turned around, he could see he hadn’t been that lucky.

  He cursed under his breath. How the hell had she guessed? He’d taken special care not to walk, talk, or act like military.

  She answered his question with a knowing look. “My father was a Ranger—and later Delta. I recognize the signs. Cool under pressure. Capable. Badass. Not to mention that you have obviously been trained in hand-to-hand combat and survival skills.”

  Dean’s instincts had been dead-on. Being with her was a very bad idea.

  Her father was Delta? What kind of shit luck was that? Dean would have to be way more careful. Guessing that he was military was bad enough—he didn’t want her any closer than that.

  Realizing that he needed to cut his losses before it got worse, he said, “I was in the navy for a while.”

  Technically that was correct. Retiarius Plato