Surrender the Dark Read Online Free Page A

said, her voice as blank as his had ever been. “You should try to get some of this down.” She sat and aimed the bent straw at his lips. She took great pride in the steadiness of her hands under his watchful gray eyes.
    He lifted his right hand and took hold of her wrist, guiding the straw the last inch past his lips. Any pride she’d taken in her control vanished at the immensity of his.
    His skin was hot. The fever, she told herself. But that didn’t explain the frisson of awareness that raced all over her body at the scrape of his calluses on her skin and the latent strength she detected in his grip.
    This was the man who wanted you dead
, she reminded herself needlessly. Yet it did nothing to lessen the impact of his touch.
    Several silent minutes later a good portion of the broth was gone. He finally let his hand drop, and Rae tried hard to keep her sigh of relief inaudible. She wasted another thirty or so seconds making space for the half-empty cup on the bedstand between the water pitcher and water cup and changing the cloth on his forehead. She felt his gaze on her and was thankful he wasn’t touching her anymore. In the five years she’d worked for him, he’d been nothing more than her boss. Nothing more, and yet he had been everything. He was a private man with an astonishing ability to draw out of each of his operatives exactly what was necessary to accomplish each mission, all without ever divulging anything of himself.
    His code name had been Enigma, and that was precisely what he’d always been.
    She’d never been this close to him before. And certainly not with him naked. His weakened state should have made a difference. It didn’t.
    His eyes were the same, though, their intensity every bit as daunting. His injuries only underscored their power.
    “There are things we have to discuss,” he said.
    Her time was up. Three days hadn’t been enough. Hell, who was she kidding? Obviously two whole years hadn’t been enough. She couldn’t even allow herself the luxury of anger, indignation, or most of all, panic. It would only make her vulnerable to him. So she took refuge in the old and familiar, hoping he wouldn’t see the fear behind the bravura.
    She worked up a sardonic smile and leaned back in the chair. “Yes, let’s skip right past the small talk, why don’t we? That gee-it’s-nice-to-see-you-again-how’ve-you-been-and-oh-by-the-way-thanks-for-saving-my-life crap gets downright maudlin, doesn’t it?”
    He stared at her in silence, not a shred of embarrassment or shame on his face. That shouldn’t have surprised her either. If he hadn’t cared the last time she’d faced him, all bloody and ravaged, nothing she said now was likely to elicit any emotion.
    “I didn’t plan on coming here,” he said finally.
    “Well, that’s a relief.”
    “You’re the last person I would have come to, Gannon. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here.” His voice was still raspy and his last sentence hadn’t beenmuch more than a growl. After a long tense silence he purposely shifted his gaze to the cup of broth, then back to her.
    She stared at him, willing herself to be unaffected. The task was impossible and she retreated behind a wall of words. “You’d ask me to give my soul for the good of the cause, but you’d die before asking me to help you personally, wouldn’t you?” she said quietly. When he didn’t respond, she simply stared him down. She didn’t dare give him the slightest edge. She already felt she was holding on by her fingertips as it was.
    “More,” he said, his teeth clenched, his eyes empty.
    She leaned forward to grab the cup and angle the straw in his mouth. He drank his fill, but didn’t hold her wrist this time. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. His steady regard was easily as disturbing as his touch had been.
    He took a moment for the broth to go down, then said, “I don’t have a choice in this.”
    The first taste of fear entered her