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Urban Warfare
his lungs. He dreamt of her, night after night. He thought of her every minute of every day.
Intellectually, he knew Whitney had found a way to “pair” a couple by using pheromones, and he’d certainly made Kane crave Rose physically. He couldn’t get near her without his body reacting with a permanent hard-on from hell. But the doctor hadn’t paired Rose with him. She’d been forced to choose from three different candidates, and she’d chosen him, but she didn’t have the same physical drive to be with him that he had for her, which posed a major problem for him. He had too much respect for her and too much honor to force himself on her. But the thought of never seeing her again, of spending his life without her, drove him insane. He also knew he would never ever be able to tolerate another man in her life. And quite frankly—that sucked.
“All right.”
That softly spoken assent surprised him. He studied her face in an effort to read whether or not she was telling the truth.
“Then you’ll wait here for me to come for you.”
She shrugged. “I won’t run.”
He was missing something; he just couldn’t quite figure it out. His mind was already shifting, his radar going off, and instinctively he put himself in front of Rose as he swung around to face the bedroom door, knife in his hand. Rose tried to jerk her gun out of the hidden holster, but the man facing them shook his head, a grin on his face.
“Naughty, naughty, Miss Rose. I can’t let you shoot him, even though Mack thinks he’s a major pain in the ass. He is my brother, after all.”
“Actually,” she corrected, “I planned on shooting you.”
Javier’s grin widened, but his eyes were ice-cold, his stare sending piercing icicles stabbing right through Rose’s mind. “Well then, everything’s fine. You carrying my nephew there?” He indicated the small basketball shape beneath her loose tunic.
Her eyebrow shot up. She didn’t wince, and she didn’t take her gaze from his. She kept her voice low and taunting, as if she didn’t realize she faced the biggest threat of her life. Kane knew better. He felt the little tremor that ran through her body.
“Maybe a niece.”
Javier snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up. He’s too damn mean to throw a girl. Mack’s getting all papa bear on us. You good, Kane?”
Kane noticed Javier’s body was angled toward Rose, half in, half out of the shadows, making him a difficult target, and the tiny knife was still concealed in the palm of his hand. He smiled at Rose and joked, but he was ready for any trouble, those cold, cold eyes never leaving his prey. Kane shifted his weight, subtly moving to cut off Javier’s angle of attack. Javier glided slightly as well and shook his head.
You know better than that. Mack would skin me alive if anything happened to you.
Rose sighed. “Nothing is going to happen to him. I’m Rose Patterson, by the way.”
“Javier Enderman, ma’am. Pleased to meet you. You reading my mind?”
“No,” Rose said. “I’m smart. I know what you’re both thinking.”
“Then you know I’ve got to get him out of here in one piece, ma’am. And that none of us wants you to hurt him.”
Kane huffed out his exasperation. “You’re making me sound like a two-year-old you all have to babysit. Tell Mack we’re on our way, and let’s get it done.”
“They’re armed to the teeth,” Rose said. “And they have trip wires strung around the windows and in the hallways leading to the apartment. You’re not going to get in through the ground floor.”
Kane made a strangled growl in the back of his throat and crouched down in front of Rose, catching her chin in his hand. “You scouted them out with my baby in your belly?” He bit out each word through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” she said very calmly, her dark eyes sober. “Before I made the decision to call in reinforcements. I told you I’d decided I couldn’t rescue them alone. Did you think I made that
Hilda Newman and Tim Tate