He pushed the door wide and stepped into the room with a soft, “Halina?”
No answer. No Dex. His gaze skipped across the room, to a window with the curtains pushed aside. Alarm sliced through Mitch’s body. He released the door handle and strode into the middle of the room, his gaze moving faster, his heart picking up speed. “Halina!”
No answer.
Fuck. “No.”
Panic pushed into his throat. He rushed to the window, grabbed the sash with both hands, and threw the window open. He leaned out so far, his momentum nearly took him over the ledge and out onto the roof. The roof. Goddamn, the roof was right there. The window easily accessible from the ground. And when he looked down, the guard, Dillon, wasn’t there.
“Halina!” Mitch screamed as his gaze scanned the darkness. “Halina!”
His heart pounded so fast it seemed to string out one frenzied continuous beat. Just as he pushed off the sill and turned to a sprint toward the door, Teague appeared in the hallway. A split second later, the others surrounded him.
“What’s wrong?” Teague asked.
“She’s gone.” Mitch moved as he spoke, pushing past Teague, running past the others and down the stairs as he pulled the gun from his jeans. “Dillon’s not under her window. Radio the guys.”
Cash spoke into the radio before Mitch had even finished his sentence. His hands were shaking so bad, he fumbled with the locks on the front door, but finally yanked it open and darted out, yelling Halina’s name and running.
He’d lost it. Abandoned all thoughts of safety, all security protocol. He didn’t know if she’d been taken or if she’d run. He didn’t know how to look for her and didn’t know where to start. Everyone was yelling at him, but his head was filled with the memory of Halina hanging over Abernathy’s shoulder like a limp doll when he’d abducted her and taken her to the harbor.
He couldn’t lose her.
“Halina!” On the side of the house with Halina’s window, Mitch stopped and squinted into the darkness, scanning the terrain. Fury and desperation erupted inside him when he could see nothing beyond twenty feet. “Dillon!” He dropped his head back and screamed into the sky, “Ha-li-na . . .”
One of the guys grabbed his arm and shook him. Anguish slowly replaced the fear as he turned to look at Luke. Dillon stood just behind him. They were both speaking, mouths moving, but Mitch couldn’t hear them. He focused harder and the men’s words filtered in.
“Earth to Mitch.” When Luke came into sharp focus, he said. “About damned time.”
“I just went to take a leak,” Dillon said. “I wasn’t gone more than a couple minutes.”
Mitch darted looks right and left. Members of the team and a couple of the guards hovered at a distance. The bite of icy air registered, raising gooseflesh on his exposed skin and cutting through his clothes.
“That’s better.” Luke pulled on his arm to start turning him. “Look behind you.”
Mitch’s head whipped toward the house so fast, he almost toppled. His vision blurred and his head went light. It took him several seconds to refocus. When he did, he saw a small figure sitting at the base of the house, back against the siding, knees up, head down. And Dex sitting by her side.
“Oh, fuck.” He breathed the words in such wicked relief, he almost went down again. Mitch bent at the waist, pressed his palms to his thighs and drew air. He turned his head up to Luke. “Take the others inside. I’ll bring her in.”
“No fucking way.” Luke scowled at him. “I’m not leaving you alone with her the way you’ve been—”
“Come on, Luke.” Jessica appeared behind him with a hand on his shoulder. “Mitch is okay. We had a talk earlier. He needs time alone with Halina. And Dex will rip his face off if he’s an ass.”
Luke argued but Jessica immediately cut him off with that iron streak of hers—the one that had helped her survive her husband’s death, resurrection, rescue, and now kept them both going through his recovery. Halina had that same strength. And Mitch needed it. For both of them.
Within sixty seconds everyone had retreated—the team back into the house, the guards back to their stations, and Mitch pushed the weapon back into his jeans. He approached Halina with a heart beating triple-time and muscles ready to give out.
He dropped to a crouch in front of her, curved his hands around her thighs, and pressed his forehead to her bent knees. Dex whined and licked his face. “Fuck, Hali, you almost killed me.”
Only when his breathing slowed and the rush of blood in his ears dimmed did Mitch realize she was shivering violently and sniffling back tears. His head came up and he slid his hands along her arms. Her skin was icy.
His gut clenched. But he didn’t haul her to her feet like he wanted to. “You were running.”
She nodded. Her gaze was glassy. “But I c-couldn’t do it.” Her teeth chattered and tears rolled out of her eyes to freeze on her skin. “I c-couldn’t make myself go. I j-just . . .” She hiccupped. “I g-got here and g-got stuck.”
He turned her face so she was looking into his eyes. “Why, Halina?”
“Because . . . I’m weak.” Guilt swamped her expression and a flood of new tears poured from her eyes. Her voice was filled with so much anguish, Mitch felt it in his bones. She dropped her gaze and pushed the tears off her face with her fists. “Because I love you and I don’t want to l-live without you anymore. But I need to g-go . . . to keep you s-safe.”
Everything inside Mitch melted.
Dex whined at Halina’s distress and licked her tears. She pushed his muzzle away.
“You’re not weak.” Mitch pulled her to her feet. “You’re the strongest woman I know. I wish I was half as strong. Let’s get you inside.”
Mitch pushed the front door open, kicked it closed, and headed straight for the stairs.
“I should g-go,” she murmured, half dazed.
“You aren’t going anywhere, Hali. If you’d meant to go, you’d have been gone by the time I got out there.”
He turned into the bedroom and set her feet on the ground, closing the door behind Dex as he came in. The dog jumped into an overstuffed chair and curled into a ball. Halina slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry . . .”
“For what?” Mitch asked, combing her hair from her eyes.
“For not leaving you.”
Mitch thought of what Quaid had said and smiled. “Baby, you’re programmed all wrong.” He leaned in and kissed her with a murmured, “We’ll have to work on that.”
EIGHTEEN
Mitch slid a hand behind Halina’s neck and pulled her mouth to his. He let go of all the frustration and fear and drank her in. He was starving for her after all the emotional distance he’d put between them today, and needed to close the gap. Needed to bring her back to him. Needed to mend all the tears he’d created.
He tasted her, so warm and sweet, and groaned. When she gripped his shoulders and kissed him back, he wrapped both arms around her, drew her against his chest, and devoured her as if he needed her to breathe—because he did. He realized he absolutely needed her to survive.
His emotions were running hot. And even though his mind told him they needed to talk, that they needed to understand each other to chip away at some of these walls, his body and heart were on fire. Pumping need south of his waist and telling him that driving deep inside her, bringing her to a splintering multi-gasm and immediately following would bond them on a much deeper level. And he needed to feel her lips on his. He just . . . needed her. God, how he needed her. She made him so damn helpless.
When she moaned and matched the hunger in his kiss, his mind blurred. His body exploded in heat. Need spurted over his skin and slid into his groin. Her hands fisted in his hair and pulled him closer and—damn—if he didn’t stop, like two minutes ago, he’d do this all wrong.