At last, she looked at him. “You feel it too, don’t you? From that first moment, there’s been something between us. Chemistry.”
Should’ve known she’d not shy away from it. Audrey Van Amee may be quirky, rash, and as capricious as his intel claimed—though he was starting to doubt that last one—but nobody could accuse her of not having spine. Which shamed him for considering, even for a second, denying the…chemistry, or whatever it was. Lying was probably the right thing, the professional thing, to do. But, hell, if she couldn’t see the erection still throbbing against the fly of his cargo pants, she should visit a doctor about that vision problem, because the damn thing was as noticeable as the Washington Monument.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I feel it. Obviously.”
Her gaze dropped to his lap, and lingered just long enough that he had to shift in the seat to relieve some of the growing pressure between his legs. She licked her lips and he wanted to groan.
“Must you do that?”
Big caramel brown eyes snapped to his. “Do what?”
“That thing with your tongue. It’s not helping my situation over here.”
She sent him a wicked grin. “Why? Does it distract you?”
“You know damn well it does.”
“Hmm.” Slowly, ever so slowly, she traced her tongue over her lower lip. “Good.”
“No. Not good. Not if you want to see your brother again.”
Her smile faded and hurt flared in her eyes before she turned away from him. Direct hit. Dammit, he was an asshole, but he refused to take it back.
She rode in silence for several miles, and Gabe got the feeling she’d retreated to somewhere inside herself. Maybe he’d been too abrupt in shutting her down. He wasn’t always the most tactful of men, but he had to make his intentions clear from the go so there were no crossed signals and hurt feelings later on. Yes, she was sexy. Under different circumstances, maybe he’d have even acted on his attraction. But not here. Not now. Probably not ever, if he wanted to remain professional—and he did. If word got out that he’d had a fling with a family member during an op, the team would be ruined before they even had a chance to make a name for themselves.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glimmer of wetness on her cheek and glanced over. Tears streamed from her eyes in steady rivulets. Okay, now he really felt like an ass.
“Audrey, I’m sorry. That was—”
“No.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I went too far. I just… I guess I need the distraction, even if you don’t.” She squared her shoulders and turned in the seat to face him. “We’re not going to get to Bryson in time, are we?”
“We’ll find him.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it.”
“I wouldn’t know how.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to meet her gaze. “My team will rescue him, Audrey. There is no other alternative.”
A smile fluttered over her lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence again, but this time she didn’t turn away. Her eyes stayed on him, studying him, and he started to feel like an abstract painting that she couldn’t figure out.
Up ahead, traffic had halted on the narrow road. He pulled up behind the last car in line, popped open his door, and stood on the runner. Some sort of accident, maybe, but with the way the road curved to the left, it was too hard to tell. He considered walking up and checking it out, but the idea of leaving Audrey alone in the car sent an icy shiver through him. And no way was he taking her. What if it was a guerilla roadblock?
Fuck.
He ran through a mental list of their options. Couldn’t turn around. Another car—the one with the horn-happy driver—had already rolled to a stop behind them, blocking that escape. He couldn’t run, but Audrey could. Maybe he could distract them long enough for her to disappear into the—
Audrey alone in the jungle. Cold. Wet. Vulnerable to all manner of predators.
No. His mind instantly and violently rejected the image. He was probably getting ahead of himself, anyway. For now, the best course was to wait on high alert. Could be nothing just as easily as something serious, and he didn’t need to draw any undue attention to them either way. He sat back down, shut the door, grabbed his SIG, checked it, and realized her gaze was still on him. She hadn’t even spared the stopped traffic a glance.
“What?” he snapped, his legendary nerves of steel fraying. He felt more exposed with her eyes on him in the close confines of the Jeep than he ever did HALO jumping into the most brutal enemy territory.