Page 76 of Ford
He blew out a breath.
Across from him, RJ groaned and rolled over in her bed. Pocketed her hands under her head. Sighed.
“You okay?” he whispered, and her eyes opened.
She looked at him. With the dawn breaking through the window, it cascaded over her body, turned her skin a warm hue. She wore Coco’s runners, along with a sweatshirt she’d borrowed and with her dark hair in bedhead tousles and no makeup, she looked about seventeen.
At thirty-two, he felt ancient next to her, his body protesting every position of comfort he’d tried to find.
“Yeah. Just a little sore from saving your hide yesterday.”
He stared at her.
She smiled.
It lit up her entire face and drove light into the darkness inside.
He refused to smile, however, and turned away.
“Really? Nothing? Not even a little nibble? No ‘Sorry schweetheart, but I had it all under control’?”
“You were told to run.”
She sat up. “And leave you to drown? Hardly. Besides, what was I supposed to do once I got away? Hope that nobody thought it was a little weird to see a disheveled American tied up and wandering around in the woods? Although, thisisRussia, so who knows what secrets other people are hiding. Maybe they’d just think…Vat do you know? Another Russian spy escaping from Uncles Boris’s place…” She affected a Russian accent, rolling her Rs.
He looked up at her, fighting a grin.
She glanced to the upper bunk. Back to him. “She’s not listening. Got her earphones in.”
“This just as easily could have gone the other direction,” he said. “General Stanislov could have tracked you down and right now you’d be in front of a firing squad.”
“Naw. He’d want to use me for leverage with the CIA. You, however…” She raised an eyebrow. “You’d be on your way to a Siberian gulag. Oh wait…” Her mouth opened, her eyes widening in feigned realization.
Okay. Fine.
“I knew there was a smile in there.”
“This isn’t funny, Bristow. We still have an assassin after us. And we have to get you and Kat out of Russia in one piece.”
He, RJ, Kat, and the general had put together all their information about Damien Gustov and left the general’s staff to work out Stanislov’s personal protection. “Gustov is well connected and very good at his job. Let’s just hope he’s frustrated at his misses and is lying low for a while.”
He’d stopped hoping about an hour after they’d boarded, right before the dead of night, that the man would make this easy and show up on the train. Mostly because York was tired and hurting and really needed a night’s sleep.
And angry. Angry at Kat and at being ambushed and even angry that…that he’d actuallyappreciatedthe fact that RJ saved his life.
Gutsy move, that.
She reminded him way too much of Tasha. Heedless. Driven by some idealistic motivation to change the world and make it safer and better. Even if it cost her.
Except, while Tasha had been an idealist, she was also deeply moody, a romantic driven by her emotions and passions. RJ seemed smarter, driven by a mix of logic and practicality, less emboldened by her passions and more willing to listen to common sense.
And while Tasha had made him curious and gotten under his skin in a way that fired up all his protective instincts, RJ made him wonder what it might feel like to stop buzzing all the time. To slow down and breathe. She roused his protective instincts, sure. But maybe not in a way that drove him crazy with worry.
She wasn’t foolish.
In fact, she stirred something deep inside him. A thirst for something he’d forgotten.
Or maybe just denied.