Ricochet by Cherry Adair

underestimated her grit and stubbornness because she looked ethereal. Little did they know she had steel for a backbone, and carried the troubles of her family and his on her slender shoulders. She always had.
    Hannah steadily met his gaze, the blue of her eyes lost in pupil, flames from the burning ship, shooting into the night sky behind him reflected in the dark pinpoints. He didn’t miss the tremble in her white-knuckled fingers, clenched in her lap
    Wrapping her hands around his wrists, when he grabbed her shoulders to steady her, her nails dug into his skin as the fishing boat continued to rock unevenly, slewing sideways.
    “How can you be so calm? It’s like being inside Dante’s Inferno.”
    He braced his feet. “Having you here, puts a whole different spin on it,” he said dryly, scanning her from head to toe to assure himself she wasn’t hurt.
    Running his thumbs over her collarbone as he held her, he felt the rapid-fire beat of her pulse in her neck. She closed her eyes for a moment as he held onto her. His own heart beat triple time. If he hadn’t moved fast enough to get her off the ship, if anything had happened…Gray’s blood chilled. She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be any-fucking-where near here. His brother had a lot to answer for. A lot.
    As much as he’d like to forget the shitstorm going on around them, when he deemed the explosive part of the fireworks over, Gray eventually dropped his hands, instantly missing the touch of her fingers on his wrists.
    “Okay?”
    She nodded, her tangled hair covering her cheek. Shoving it aside with fingers that still trembled, she lifted her chin. “I’d rather be sitting in the back row of the movie theatre eating popcorn than inside this live action, I can tell you that! You really are Jason Bourne.”
    “Nothing as glamorous.” He stroked his thumb lightly over the smudge on her cheek. Dirt, thank God. “Black ops. No one was supposed to know.”
    “Even your fiancé?” Her tone was even, but pain flashed in her eyes. “If we’d married, would you have kept disappearing, not telling me where you were, or if you were alive? Would I ever have known if you’d died protecting the world?”
    “I would’ve told you—eventually.”
    “We wouldn’t know if you were dead or alive. How can you live with doing that to the people who love you? I hate secrets. They’re bad for the one in the dark, and bad for the one holding them. People who keep secrets tend to be depressed, stressed and isolated. Any of that sound familiar?”
    “Don’t shrink me. Let’s put this conversation off for now.” He glanced over at Salinas to see if he was taking it all in.
    Didn’t appear to be.
    “That means never. Got it,” she said tightly, following his gaze. “Back to work?”
    “In a minute…” He touched the rapid pulse at the base of her throat because he couldn’t—not. A few more minutes weren’t going to change the course of history. Her skin, cool, a little clammy with nerves, was still as soft as the petal of a rose. He wanted to inhale her and drench himself in her sweetness.
    She went through a series of hacking coughs. All he could do was stroke her back until it subsided, then wipe the tears off her cheeks with both thumbs.
    She gave him a helpless, frustrated look, then pushed his hands away. “Don’t baby me. I’m scared, confused, and will probably burst into tears at any second. Give me a second to get my spine back.”
    He kept his hands to himself with sheer willpower. “Nah. My Tink has a spine of steel.”
    She sighed. “If only.”
    The smell of the days catch was still present, though mostly masked by the strong stench of burning wood, fiberglass, and oil. Thick black smoke hung low over the dark water, drifting to them on the wind, making their eyes water, and catching roughly in their throats. The oily fumes clogged his throat, and made Hannah cough again.
    “Targets secure?” Eyes on her, he spoke into the comm. Using