“Let’s see what the men are doing,” he said mildly, as if his whole body hadn’t just caught fire.

Occasionally changing the drone batteries, they watched the compound from its rooftop perch for what was left of the afternoon. There were men moving around, walking alone or in pairs, a number of them carrying sidearms. Others drove pickup trucks, hauling hay or supplies, or delivering foodstuffs to the commissary.

The third metal building sat a hundred yards away from the rest of the compound. Edge itched to see what was going on inside.

“How much flight time do we have left?” Skye asked.

“Not enough.” Working the controls, he sent the drone soaring upward off the roof, high enough not to be spotted, then set the machine on a path that would return it to the back of the SUV where it had been launched.

Dusk had begun to fall, a curtain of gray hovering above the fading yellow horizon. By the time the drone had landed, the last battery was dead, but once they got back to the motel, the batteries could be fully recharged with a USB cable.

“You still got any of those sandwiches you picked up at the café this morning?” he asked, though he would rather have a far different hunger satisfied.

The stolen kiss, the touch of his mouth over those full pink lips, had only made his desire for her deepen. He took the last sandwich, roast beef, offered her a bite she declined, and they headed back to the motel.

As the SUV rattled over a string of potholes in the dusty dirt road, he polished off the sandwich, but one look at Skye and his hunger returned. Either he needed to find another woman to take care of his needs or convince Skye to invite him into her bed.

Maybe he should call one his Denver lady friends, women who enjoyed an occasional bout of no-strings sex. The sad truth was the idea of sleeping with another woman left a bad taste in his mouth.

Skye was the woman he wanted. He wished to hell he knew if there was any chance she also wanted him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEY SPENT MOST OF THE NEXT DAY DOING RECON, COLLECTING THE rest of the intel they needed. Skye checked her digital wristwatch. It was late afternoon. Trace would be arriving at dusk. They would meet at the motel, go over the details, the timing, Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C, if the whole thing turned into what Edge called “a giant clusterfuck.”

“We’ve got what we need,” Skye said, watching as Edge frowned and paced back and forth behind the SUV, clearly not satisfied with the information the drone had provided so far. “What is it? What are we not doing that you still want to do?”

Edge stopped pacing, his intense blue eyes locking on her face. The impact made her breath catch.

“I want to know what’s in that third building,” he said.