Page 86 of Seal of Honor
Yep, he was raw again. As much as he enjoyed sex with Audrey—and, fuck, did he ever enjoy it, enjoy her—he did not like the way he felt right now. Like a throbbing, open wound. If she wanted, she could easily pour salt into him and scar him for life.
And he had enough scars, thanks.
It was too much.
“Promise me you’ll come back safe,” she whispered againsthis hair.
He refused to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see in her face, but even more afraid of what she would see in his. “I’ll do my best.”
“No. You promise me, Gabriel. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”
All right. He’d known this conversation was coming. He could handle this, tell her like it is. Despite the cold, hollow ache that flash froze into a lump of ice in his chest.
“Audrey.” He touched her cheek and waited until she met his gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t love me. We’ve been through hell, and in order to survive, we’ve had to rely on each other in ways most never have to rely on another person. It’s natural to feel the way you do now, but it’s not love. Believe me. I’ve been here before.”
Christ, he hoped that little speech hadn’t sounded as canned and phony to her as it had to his own ears.
But she seemed to believe him. The hurt of it shone in her eyes. “So you always sleep with the women you help?”
No, you’re the first. The only. You are… so much more.
Ha. Like he’d say that little gem of a thought out loud and kibosh his whole argument. Sure, she was special to him, and he had a feeling she always would be, but what he felt didn’t matter. A month, six months, a year from now, when the fear and adrenaline faded to nothing but bad memories, she wouldn’t feel the same about him anymore. He just knew it. If he hung around, if he let her continue thinking she was in love, it’d put them both in an awkward place when she realized she wasn’t. Better to extract himself now, before they reached that point.
Jesus, he never should have let things go this far between them to begin with, never should have allowed himself to give in to how much he wanted her.
“Sometimes,” he said slowly, searching for the right words to let her down easy without crushing all that wild spirit he admired so much. “Sometimes when you face a deadly situation, the natural reaction is to want to experience life. Sex is one of the good parts of life.”
Scoffing, she shoved him shoulder. Not hard, but enough that he knew she was seriously pissed. She stood, giving him her back, and straightened her skirt. He thought—hoped—maybe she’d see the logic and let it go without a fight. Then she whirled to face him and—surprise!—indomitable woman that she was, she called him out.
“Do you actually believe the crap you’re spouting?” Her eyes were blazing with hurt and anger, making them appear such a vibrant green that he had to look away. “For someone who prides himself on being so strong and capable, you sure run scared when it comes to matters of the heart.” She jabbed a finger at his nose. “This between us is more than adrenaline-fueled sex and we both know it. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, so you can’t tell me?—”
“It’ll fade.”
She shook her head. “No. I won’t let you brush this off as some kind of trauma response. This is just you trying to justify your decision to run away from me. From us. Why?”
That was the question. The more he talked, the less he believed his own bullshit. God help him, he wanted her even though it made him feel so exposed. Maybe he loved her, he didn’t know. Never had any experience with the emotion to know if that’s what all the roiling, turbulent feelings of admiration, joy, fear, and lust meant. Even if it was love—not that he was ready to cop to that yet—but hypothetically, even if it was, they couldn’t… He couldn’t…
This was all too much. She was too much. And he was not nearly enough for her.
Okay, his thoughts were rambling, not making a whole hell of a lot of sense even to him. He rubbed the center of his forehead and then did something he’d never done before in his entire thirty-three years of life: he stood, pulled up his pants, grabbed his shirt, and chickened out.
“Audrey, I have to go.”
Standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest in a stance that was both defensive and vulnerable, she glowered at him. “So that’s it? You’re just going to walk out of here and I’m supposed to… what? Thank you for your service?”
The disdain in her voice sliced through him. He wanted to reach out to her, to cradle her face in his hands and tell her she had it all wrong. That protecting her, being with her, wasn’t a service, but a privilege. That every minute spent with her was a gift he would treasure for the rest of his life. But those words remained choked in his throat as he buttoned up his shirt.
Audrey stared at him, waiting for an answer, and he just shook his head.
“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” Feeling like an utter coward, he edged around her and out the door. “I’ll call you when we have Bryson.”
CHAPTER 31
Dawn broke over Bogotá with no fanfare whatsoever. Low-hanging clouds kept the streets dark longer than normal—a few measly street lamps tried and failed to beat back the oppressive grayness, their yellow glow dampened by the light morning fog, making for excellent cover. Gabe couldn’t have asked for a better morning, though he could do without the persistent, drizzling rain that froze him to the bone.
Then again, maybe that icy cold was from the conversation—argument—whatever he’d had—with Audrey in the hospital.
No, he couldn’t think about that. He had to stay one hundred percent focused on the here and now. Block out the pain in his heart, the pain in his side, the throbbing in his foot. Focus on the bite of cold, thin mountain air filling his lungs; the manicured lawn cushioning his body as he crawled toward the house; the earthy scents of mud and wet grass stodgy in his nose; the rifle’s familiar feel in his hands; the easy rhythm of his heart in the muffled silence of the morning.
