Her stomach flipped. She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want to be alone out here in the woods. What if he didn’t come back? What if she had to find her own way out again? If she had her phone, she’d use GPS—but she had nothing.
“Do you have to?” She sounded breathless and a little scared, but she couldn’t help it.
His gaze softened for a second before hardening again. “Yes. Go to sleep and don’t worry about it. I need you to be ready to go when it’s time.”
He dropped out of sight and Sophie was alone.
6
There was no sign of pursuit in the immediate area. Chase did a perimeter sweep, but all was clear. Which was good because he still wasn’t quite sure what the fuck he was going to do with Princess Sophie.
His team was scattered after the last mission. He’d planned to take her to HOT HQ and sort it out there, but that was before someone had set his apartment on fire. Before he knew without a doubt that Androv really did want her dead.
If he took her to HOT now, Mendez would have to turn her over to the FBI. Domestic crime wasn’t part of HOT’s mandate, and they couldn’t get involved in this kind of thing. Yeah, Androv owned Zoprava and supplied antivirus solutions to companies worldwide. He also owned quite a bit of property in New York, and he did a lot of business there.
But none of that involved the military or national security, which meant no HOT. He was on their watch list as someone of interest, primarily because he had a lot of money and he’d dabbled in selling Russian military technology at one time. It hadn’t been as profitable as his other enterprises, so he hadn’t done a lot with it, which meant he wasn’t a HOT target at the moment.
Yet if there was something incriminating on that flash drive, something big… Chase gripped his weapon tighter and dragged in a breath. Yeah, that would be amazing.
If Androv was willing to use lethal force to get it back, which he appeared to be, then it was entirely possible there was something on there he didn’t want falling into the wrong hands. Which made Chase really want to know what was on the flash drive.
There was only one way to find out. He had to go to Paris and get it. No matter what he’d said about Androv’s ability to record Sophie’s conversations when her phone was off, it was possible it hadn’t happened that way. That all Androv had installed was a tracking device.
If so, there was still a chance to get the information before Androv or his people recovered it.
They just had to get the fuck out of this forest and get some help—though not HOT because Mendez wasn’t going to authorize government assets for a mission against a private citizen, which Androv still was. He wasn’t a military target, and he wasn’t going to be unless something significant turned up—which meant Chase needed to seek alternative help for what was essentially a personal mission.
Chase continued his careful circuit of the area, checking for signs of human trespass. When he was satisfied there was nothing out of order, he returned to the stand, bare-climbing the tree and popping in the door. When he spotted Sophie, he paused and watched her for a long minute.
She was curled on the bed with her back to the door. Her long, strawberry blonde hair lay against the pillow, revealing the vulnerable column of her neck. Her skin was creamy, pale, and soft-looking, like silk. She had a small beauty mark on that luscious neck, a blemish that marred the otherwise-pristine swath of skin.
He’d noticed it earlier. It was a small spot, barely discernible in the dim light—and yet he wondered what it would be like to press his lips just there, right over the mark and near the soft pulse beat of her throat.
Chase had to shake himself like a wet dog to dislodge the image—and the corresponding heat that kindled in his groin. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? Even if she weren’t his stepsister—or his father’s cherished adopted daughter, more like—he wasn’t attracted to pampered princesses. He liked girls who could shoot. Girls who drank beer and told dirty jokes. Girls who liked to fish and didn’t squeal about having to touch worms.
You don’t know she squeals over worms.
Yeah, right. As if she’d ever been fishing or baited a hook in her life.
She walked through the woods without complaint.
Yeah? What choice did she have?
Chase forced himself to turn away, to stop studying the rise of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the sweet curve of her hip. The luscious roundness of her ass.
Fuck. He whipped open his bugout bag and took out the burner phone he kept there. He had to solve this situation and soon. The less time he spent with Miss Sophie Nash, the better. Chase flipped open the phone and sent a text to the only person he could think of who might be able to help him out of this mess without getting HOT involved.