Page 26 of Fully Loaded

“You’re gorgeous.” He took another step, closing the distance between them. He reached out and caught a piece of her hair, tugging it. “Jesus.” His knuckle moved to her neutral-toned bottom lip, and he touched the corner of her mouth.

She moved her lips to one side. “I’m not sure if I should be happy or insulted that you like the fact that I look so different.” She compressed her embrace around her breasts and rocked onto the sides of her feet.

He didn’t laugh. His gaze darkened and he rolled his jaw. “It’s not that you look so different. You’re still you. Still sexy as ever, still gorgeous.”

A tremble overtook her body, and she swept her tongue over her bottom lip. His gaze dropped to the movement and his hands curled into fists at his side. Her fingers throbbed to reach out and grab his face, to wrap her legs around his waist and lose herself in the words he’d just said. A dark stain tinted his cheeks and her heartbeat roared in her eardrums. An animalistic glint shone in his eyes, as though he were a predator about to pin his prey. Her loins clenched and the lips between her legs throbbed.

God, she needed him. Now.

He clicked his tongue and ran his palm over his face. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He took a step back and turned away from her, breaking the static electricity that arced between their bodies. “We’d better get on the train before those passports are reported stolen.”

Chapter

Ten

If he didn’t stop staring at her out of the corner of his eye, he’d draw attention to them. But for the life of him, he couldn’t help it. Her new look drove him wild. He glanced at the clock above the train terminal. Any minute and they’d be on their way out of Switzerland. She wore his old baseball cap over her long, dark hair and had traded the sweatshirt in for a long-sleeved heather-blue shirt and light-wash jeans that sculpted her supple thighs and ass. She’d been a stunning blonde, and she’d never, not once in their history together, dyed her hair. It was likely just shock that kept dragging his eyes to the so familiar yet now so different woman he’d been in love with.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“About?”

“The tracking device.” She tipped her head toward him, and he lowered his ear closer to her mouth. “When I escaped out the window, I left my phone. I went back for it and the . . . object, and I found my phone on the floor. They probably knew I’d be back and planted it so they could find me.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s exactly what happened.”

She mumbled a curse. It sounded foreign on her delicate breath. “I wish I’d thought to check. God, I feel dumb.”

He settled his hand on her shoulder and gave her a shake. Only her profile was visible, but the crimson hue to her ear hinted that she was pissed at herself.

“Don’t do that. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and why the hell would it have crossed your mind to check for a tracking device, especially in that critical moment? You’re alive because you outsmarted them.”

She patted his fingers. “Thanks.”

He gave her a squeeze and lowered his hand. He’d meant every word. Had anyone else been in that apartment instead of her—himself included—they’d probably be dead. Dani kept her nose in a travel book, but she never shifted more than an inch away from his body. She was doing a damn good job of not drawing attention to her face, but there was no way in hell the other men on the platform weren’t checking her out. Maybe she should have stayed disguised as a man.

He scanned the faces around them. Every rustle or chirp of a phone called his attention. A horn blasted and Dani jumped as if a gun had gone off. He rested his palm on her back and her stiff spine returned to its natural position.

Hard steel sat at the small of his back. European train stations had the worst security he’d ever witnessed—not a single metal detector. And only the odd police officer strolled through the station. Although it was a good thing they hadn’t had to ditch their weapons, anyone who was after them would get through just as easily. Dani hadn’t been comfortable carrying her gun, so he’d rolled it into a shirt and placed it in his carry-on bag.

The train whooshed to a stop in front of them, blowing hot air over his skin. Like cattle, everyone on the platform moved onto the vessel. Dani walked ahead of him, but he stayed within reach. One row of single seats lined each side of the train. She stopped at one with a vacant seat across the aisle and sat down. He scooted into the seat directly across from her.

“How long is this one again?” she asked.

“Two and a half hours till our next stop in Zurich. Sleep if you can.”

She snorted. “Yeah right.”

“It’ll be another five hours after that before we get to France.” He watched as the rest of the train filled. Dani flipped open her book until everyone was in their seats and the train pulled out of the station. White-capped mountains lay beyond the windows. The view was beautiful, but fatigue weighed down his eyelids as the train jostled along the tracks.

No way could he risk falling asleep. He reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out Sven’s phone. Their plan was to search Sven’s apartment to find some indication of who’d hired him. Odds were the company or individuals had already searched it and confiscated his belongings. Regardless, he and Dani needed to get out of Switzerland, and being in the same city as the organization that wanted Chrisolicom XII would be the best way to unravel this fucking mess.

He fired up Sven’s phone and checked his Gmail account. An hour later, Brock was ready to throw the fucking thing off the train. Nothing. How had he been so damn careful? He glanced at Dani. Her head lolled to the side, the travel book facedown in her lap.

He rubbed the heel of his palm on his forehead. A tension headache that had started at his nape pulsed behind his eyes. He massaged his neck and stared at the ceiling. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing, something he was overlooking. Sven was too big a player in this game to assume he’d been a pawn. He scanned the heads of the passengers for the dozenth time. The familiar blue Facebook icon lit the screen in the hand of the passenger in front of Dani.

Lifting Sven’s phone, Brock touched the Facebook app. Like most people, Sven had stayed logged in. He spent the next half hour flipping through pictures and stalking Sven’s friends’ profiles. A stunning picture of the Swiss Alps towering over a golf course made him stop scrolling. Sven stood in the center of the green with three other men. Two wore visors and the other man and Sven wore baseball hats, obscuring their features. He looked at the date. The picture had been snapped four months ago. He zoomed in on Sven’s neck—no sign of the tattoo. He shifted his attention to the other men’s collars. Nothing.

He pushed a sigh through his teeth. For fuck’s sake. He was about to track his thumb across the screen to move to the next picture, but a tiny flash of black caught his eye. He stopped and narrowed his gaze on the dude to Sven’s left. On the man’s bicep, the curled tips of the bottom of a pentagon were unmistakable.