Page 52 of The Knight
“We’ll dock in Plymouth in just over 24 hours,” Haynes said, his tone business-like. “From there, MI6 will escort you to London.”
He paused, his expression softening, a trace of empathy breaking through his polished demeanor. “In the meantime, eat something and try to rest. Trust me, sleeping through thejourney is the best way to deal with the Gray Lady. Sub travel’s an acquired taste. James will show you to your quarters.”
Haynes stood, prompting Abe and Fox to rise and shake his hand once more.
Settling back into his seat, Abe took hold of Freya’s hand. “We’re going to get through this, I promise.”
He caught Fox’s eye, reading the same grim determination in his teammate’s gaze. They both knew it. Promises couldn’t change facts.
They were sailing straight into the heart of the storm.
28
Freya eyedthe narrow bunk with trepidation. Dark blue curtains hung around it, an attempt at privacy that only heightened her growing sense of claustrophobia. The fabric looked heavy, as if it might suffocate her in her sleep.
She glanced around the narrow space. Unless she stood for the rest of the trip, the bunk it was.
The utilitarian sheets crinkled as she climbed in, their crisp cleanliness giving off the homely scent of washing powder. She’d stripped off Asta’s dungarees and socks, leaving only the pink long-sleeved top and her underwear. Given recent events, she’d sworn off bras for the foreseeable future.
She sank back onto the narrow bunk, her breath stuttering as the reality of her confinement crashed over her. The metal frame of the bunk above loomed mere inches from her face, a steel sky pressing down, threatening to smother her. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to be anywhere else—a sun-drenched beach, a windswept mountain peak—anywhere but this metal coffin plunging through the ocean depths.
But it was impossible not to hear it, the quiet hum of machinery, the muffled sounds of the crew going about theirduties. The submarine’s heartbeat pulsed through her body, a constant subtle vibration that wormed its way into her bones.
“Comfortable?” Abe’s deep voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.
She opened her eyes.
He’d tugged back one of the privacy curtains, his muscular arm resting on the edge of her bunk. He’d rolled up his sleeves, exposing gorgeous forearms.
It should be illegal for a man to have arms like that.
“Just feeling a little anxious.” She tried to smile. “The whole not being able to open the door thing.”
“It’s not that different from traveling in an airplane.” His returning smile touched his dark eyes.
“True, just at least then you can see the sky, the clouds, the sun, and the green earth below. Down here, it’s just icy darkness and more icy darkness.”
“You sound like you need a hug.” His face dipped, and his voice lowered to an intimate rumble that caressed her skin.
Her gaze locked with his. The mere thought of his arms enveloping her, his powerful body pressing against hers in this confined space, sent her heart into an erratic dance.
His hand moved, fingertips ghosting along her arm. The fleeting contact ignited sparks beneath her skin, kindling a hunger she’d been trying to suppress. Her breath caught in her throat, every nerve ending crying out for more of that electrifying touch.
“That would be nice.” She sounded normal, despite the tremor in her core.
“Nice?” Abe’s eyebrow arched, a challenge in his tone. He glanced both ways before sliding into the bunk beside her. As he lay down behind her, the cramped space shrank further, his presence consuming every inch, even the very air she breathed.
“More than nice,” Freya whispered, as his arms encircled her. The metronome of his heart against her back eased the cramping tension in her neck. “Are you okay? Your shoulder?”
Abe shifted, drawing the curtains around them. The shush of fabric heightened the intimacy of their cocoon. “Ship’s medic put some stitches in for me and I’m rattling with painkillers.”
Good. She hated to think of him being in pain.
“Everything is going to be fine.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “We’ll be there before you know it.”
Embers of desire, ticking over since he had last touched her flared to life under the oxygen of his touch. One hand stroked down her arm, not his palm, but the exquisite tease of his fingertips. His nails dragged lightly, sending shivers of conflicting sensations through her body—relaxation warring with arousal in a delicious tension.
“You have nothing to worry about when I’m here, Freya.” His voice was velvet in her ears. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”