Callie turned and ran out of the room.

CHAPTER TEN

AS SOON AS SKYE GOT BACK TO THE MOTEL THAT AFTERNOON, EDGE took the wheel of Trace’s big black Yukon, and they headed for the compound. He had a spot in mind to set up the drone, but they needed to scout the area, make sure it was a place they could fly the drone without being discovered.

“We need to pinpoint Cassie’s location,” Edge said as he parked the SUV behind a low hill farther down the dirt road they had traveled before. “We need to know which house she’s staying in and how many other women are in there with her.”

“From what Molly said, there are only two unmarried women in the compound. They’re probably staying together.”

Edge nodded. “The afternoon’s pretty well shot. We’re going to need at least another day to chart Callie’s routine: what time she gets up, what she does, and when she does it.”

“Same for the men,” Skye said. “We need to study their daily movements and time the guard rotations.”

“There might be a better way than going in at night,” Edge said. “I didn’t notice as many guards in the daytime, but the risk of being seen is higher.”

“What about the drone? How can we be sure they won’t spot it?”

“Have you seen it?”

Skye shook her head. “It’s still in the box in the back.” She was wearing dark blue stretch jeans, low-heeled boots, and a dark green turtleneck sweater. Skye had a firm, lean body, but there were plenty of curves, all in exactly the right places.

He remembered seeing her in a wet T-shirt during a rainstorm in Mexico. The memory of her breasts, as round and delectable as a pair of ripe peaches, was seared into his brain.

When he opened the back of the SUV and Skye bent over to open the box holding the drone, his blood went south, and his mind went straight to the gutter. A woman’s breasts were his weakness. But Skye’s taut, round behind was pure temptation.

She had pulled her thick dark hair into a no-nonsense ponytail at the nape of her neck, but sunlight set off ruby glints here and there, and his mind conjured images of how the silky strands would look spread over his pillow. He wanted to peel off those snug jeans and take her right there in the back of the SUV.

Edge silently cursed. Bedding Skye Delaney was becoming an obsession. Even worse, there was nothing he could do about it. Skye was his partner, his friend. She wasn’t the kind of woman you seduced, then just walked away from.

He took a deep breath and focused on the drone. “It’s a real beauty,” he said as Skye opened the box. “State of the art, that’s for sure.”

She ran a hand over the mini-drone, and he felt it as if she’d stroked him. The ridge beneath the zipper of his black jeans went harder.