Page 60 of Dangerous Mission

“Okay, I’m dressed.” Her delicate voice glides into my ear and tightens my pressed lips into a fused line.

When Aria whirls around to find me staring, she freezes.

“Oh,” she says quietly. “You were fast.”

I snap myself in line and start strapping on a dive knife. “Let’s get this done.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Diving?”

That’s when I see a shiver wrack her body. Voice full of worry, she says, “Yes. The water’s going to be super murky. It’s going to be challenging. I don’t think it will take us long, but it’s going to be stressful.”

I check both sets of tanks and lift her gear so she can slide it on. When she turns around to look at me, it hits me—I don’t want her diving.

No, it’s not diving. It’s specifically going into the dangerous cave.

If we were on a wreck dive in beautiful Caribbean waters, I’d be all about it.

“Scout…” She steps cautiously toward me. “What’s that look on your face?”

“This is me trying to figure out if Justice can fit in your gear.”

“What?” Aria crinkles her nose. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you?—”

Anger flashes in her pretty brown eyes, turning them hard. “Oh no. Not you. You’re not going to be one of those men that says I’m not a good diver because I’m a woman.”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I tug her toward me by the straps of her gear. “This has nothing to do with you being a woman.”

Okay, it has everything to do with her being a woman. The one I want to protect. The same fucking woman that’s making me a dangerous liability.

Face tilted up, she inspects my face. “What then?”

“I want you safe.”

Her pretty eyes soften again. Just like they did before and my body reacts the same way.

The harsh glow inside me eases, but a new firetunnels through me.

With a sharp shake of her head, she tugs out of my hold. “Let’s go. We’ve got each other’s backs. We’ve got a job to do.”

God. This woman.

What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter Thirty

Once I’m in dive mode, I’m good.

My mind stops racing, the thoughts about Scout’s moody protectiveness fade into the background.

The vision of his scars slips deep, tucking away in a place I can unpack later.

Everything has to wait.

Water presses in on me as I slip into the pool and the hiss of my breath in my ears calms me. I’ve done this thousands of times.