Forged in Ash Read Online Free PDF Page B

massage table, so Cosky would have to lie on the couch or the floor. Assuming he called, because his knee would have to be pretty bad for Marcus Simcosky to call her.
    She wasn’t an idiot, nor did she have any illusion about her looks. She was attractive and men noticed. She’d been picking up on their nonverbal cues since puberty.
    So she knew he’d reacted to her as they’d brushed past each other in Aiden’s hospital room. She’d recognized the catch in his stride, the intensity and heat in his eyes. She’d watched sensuality flush his face and soften his hard mouth.
    He’d wanted her.
    One look, one electrifying brush of bare skin on bare skin as their arms touched, and he’d wanted her.
    Just as she’d wanted him.
    Sure it had been pure animal attraction, primal lust. But it had been stronger than anything she’d felt before…or since.
    She’d been so sure he’d turn around, follow her back into Aiden’s room, strike up a conversation, and ask her out. When he hadn’t, she thought he’d decided on a more private approach. She’d expected him to call. She’d waited three days for that call before the realization set in.
    Marcus Simcosky was a confident man. The kind of man who went after what he wanted. Ergo, if he’d wanted her, really wanted her, he would have come after her by now. He would have tracked her down. He would have asked her out.
    He wasn’t dating anyone, so there was nothing holding him back. She’d known that from the conversations she’d listened in on between Aiden, Rawls, and Zane, while sitting at her brother’s bedside. And those conversations had brought another revelation. He was avoiding Aiden’s hospital room. Unlike Zane and Rawls, who had visited almost every day prior to their next deployment, Cosky hadn’t visited her brother again. It had been such an obvious abandonment, even Rawls and Aiden had commented on it, although no one seemed to know why.
    Kait knew—it was because of her.
    If he’d been a less confident man, she would have approached him, explored that instant, overwhelming hunger. But he didn’t lack confidence. If he’d wanted to pursue the attraction between them, he would have. And damn if she was going to pursue him and try to convince him she was worth his time and attention.
    No matter how many nights she’d dreamed about him.
    Or how many mornings she’d woken aching in places better off not dwelled on.

    Cosky glanced in the review mirror and punched the accelerator, bracing his elbow against the door handle as his pickup shot forward. From behind him, a car backfired. The explosive sound echoed in the air, as staccato as a gunshot. A rusted two-door sedan, the same one that had been riding his ass for the last mile, took the corner on a greasy plume of exhaust and settled in behind his bumper, tailing him so closely he could clearly see the driver—a thin, jaundiced woman with ratty brown hair.
    There was no question. He’d picked up a tail.
    She was of European descent, which didn’t mean shit these days with domestic terrorists giving the foreign ones some serious competition for murder and mayhem. Although he doubted she was a Tango. Terrorists trained their cell members better. The woman was a complete amateur. Or an idiot. Or both. Only a moron would tail him so closely he could see her face. He glanced in the review mirror as the sedan backfired again. Black exhaust slicked the street behind him. At the very least a professional would choose a less conspicuous ride.
    “Unbelievable.”
    He’d noticed her the moment she’d pulled onto Silver Strand Boulevard behind him. She’d been impossible to miss. If the backfiring hadn’t caught his attention, the jet-engine muffler would have. The damn thing was noisier than a Black Hawk on liftoff, which was why he hadn’t realized at first that she was following him. Sure she’d mirrored him turn for turn, but coincidences happened. By the fourth turn he’d started to wonder, so