The door to the room jiggled and Kara rushed forward as Blake walked in, and she let out a breath of relief. He was still in jeans and a leather jacket. He hadn’t left without her. Kyle followed him in and her relief faded inside the crackling tension in the air.
“What’s wrong?” Kara asked.
Blake settled his hands on her arms. “Kyle’s going to stay with you while I go to the meeting.”
“What? No. I’m going.”
“No, Kara—you aren’t.” His hands came down on her shoulders, his brown eyes hard, determined.
She wet her lips, knowing two big men weren’t a battle she could fight. At least, not head on. A good agent—and she was a good agent—used smarts. “If you do this—”
“You’ll hate me,” he said. “I’d rather you hate me alive than bury you like I did Whitney.”
Like Whitney. A part of her softened. He cared about her. He was worried about her. But she cared about him too, and neither of them could survive his guilt and fear. He had to overcome it. She had to make him. She removed his hands from her shoulders. “Do what you have to do, Blake.”
His eyes narrowed. “That was easy.”
She glanced around him to Kyle, who had rubber cuffs in his hands. “I know when I’m beat. And I don’t need to be cuffed. I’ll stay.” Kara leaned in and kissed Blake. “And you stay alive, damn it.”
He molded her closer and kissed her deeply, passionately, and she tasted the bitterness of his guilt and his fear. “I will,” he promised. “For you, I will.” He turned and left and Kara stared after him.
“I guess that leaves you and me, darlin’,” Kyle teased.
“I guess it does, bubba,” she said thinking how bad she was going to feel in a couple of minutes. She liked Kyle and he was a good friend to Blake.
He grinned and sauntered into the room, sinking down into the desk chair and grabbing a room service menu. “I’m starving. You hungry?”
“Yes. I am.” Kara sat down on the bed and kicked off one shoe and then carefully removed the second where she’d hidden the secret weapon she’d gotten from an FBI lab. The same weapon she’d used to put Blake to sleep in Denver. “Anything good on the menu, or should we order pizza?”
He glanced down and she pulled off the sticker that exposed the sleeping drug, careful not to touch her own skin. “Looks good to me,” he said. “You want to take a look?”
“Sure, I…” She started to get up and feigned a cramp. She needed to get him to the bed so he didn’t fall over and hit his head when she knocked him out. “Oh, ah. Stupid charlie horse.” She rubbed her foot several seconds, making a pained face. “Okay. Ouch. That hurt. I can’t walk. Can you bring me the menu?”
“You must be dehydrated,” Kyle said, pushing to his feet. “I used to get those when I played football.” He handed her the menu.
Kara looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I really am.” She grabbed his arm and pressed the drug against his skin.
His brows furrowed. “Sorry for what?” And then his eyes rolled back in his head.
Kara jumped to her feet and somehow turned his big body so that it fell back on the mattress. She didn’t give herself time for guilt. She quickly put her shoes back on, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.