She tried to swallow again. The man was throwing her completely off balance. Seeing him in action earlier had set her hormones into overdrive, and that was a huge problem. A betrayal by her own body, for Pete’s sake. He was all about control and loyalty to the team, and he’d never understand that she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. Even so, she couldn’t help but study him as the stupid elevator took its time deciding whether to take them up two floors or just drop them according to gravitational laws. Man, he was something to look at.

Jet-black hair, thick and a bit wavy, showcased a hard-ridged and symmetrical face. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and they often seemed to look right through her. His lean physique was muscular, and she’d thought he moved with the grace of a swimmer. Apparently, based on the fight at the diner, a swimmer who could kick your ass if necessary. The guy probably had an exercise regimen he kept to religiously. He seemed like the type.

He returned the survey, not beneath his lashes. The man had no problem keeping an eye on her.

That was part of his job, of course.

“Stop looking at me,” she murmured.

“You’re looking at me,” he returned easily as the elevator stopped abruptly and jumped twice. The door did not open. He frowned, finally releasing her gaze from his spell. “This thing can’t be safe.”

No doubt. Finally, as he focused elsewhere, she could breathe. Brigid pushed her unruly hair away from her face and forced thoughts of small spaces out of her head. Kind of. “You know we can’t pretend to be engaged, right?”

Raider shrugged. “That’s the assignment, Irish.” His tone remained unconcerned, and he appeared relaxed. Yet a tension, a promise that he could leap into action in a nanosecond, always emanated from him. It both fascinated and irritated the heck out of her.

Brigid bit her lip and stared at the closed elevator door. “Shouldn’t this be opening about now?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning back against the scarred wooden wall. “The door will open soon. Probably. Who knows. It’s ancient.”

Wonderful. Being stuck in a rickety elevator with Raider, especially this new unmasked version of him, was the last place on earth she wanted to be. Well, the second to the last place. Prison had sucked—royally. “You don’t have to come with me to see my father. I can handle the mission on my own.”

Raider didn’t answer.

Irritation clawed Brigid’s throat. She couldn’t handle him pretending to be all bad-boy on her. It was too much. “I said you’re not needed.”

He lowered his chin, his gaze more than a little direct. Oddly so. “I’m your handler. Where you go, I go.”