Oh boy, she was in trouble. And his words to Roy this morning, when the super spy was arranging transportation to Florida, which included a drive back to Seattle and waiting for President White’s private jet to arrive, didn’t help either. “You’d better count me in, pal, because where she goes, I go.”

She’d almost broken out in tears.

Clearly, he’d meant what he said back on the porch in Alaska a few days ago, because here he was, even reaching out and lacing his strong fingers through hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

Which part?

The part where there were Russian mobsters trying to kill her? Or, even better, plotting to unleash a bioweapon on American soil? Maybe the part where she had to figure out how to synthesize a vaccine from tidbits of genes and incomplete gene splicing?

Maybe best was the part of her heart she was losing—and fast—to a guy who wasn’t going to stick around. Yes, that was her favorite version of “It’s going to be okay.”

Hardly.

Still, she produced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. I know. I just . . .” She shook her head, her gaze landing on Zoey across the aisle, asleep, and beside her, Roy, who had commandeered this flight.

“I feel like I’ve lost all control of my life.”

“Welcome to the service of Uncle Sam,” Colt said. He wore a pair of clean jeans and a dark brown T-shirt, his Oakley sunglasses backward on his head, which pushed his long dark hair behind his ears. A dark stubble layered his chin.

Yeah, that helped her heart say no. “I just . . . I had a good life A simple life. I went to work. I came home. I read a good book. I—”

“Internet dated.” He raised an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Okay. Maybe I did want more. But more only got me into trouble.”

He smiled, something flirtatious in it. “You seemed to like trouble last night, or maybe I should say this morning.”

“Stop. And by now it’s yesterday. We passed midnight long ago.”

His gaze dropped to her lips, and a burn pressed her face. “Colt.”

He grinned. “I just think that you only tell yourself that you want a safe, simple life, a life without complications, because that keeps you from needing anyone. Which means no one can ever reject you or leave you . . . or hurt you.”

She swallowed.

Yeah, she’d lost control all right, because she’d spent the last four hours, as they’d traveled through the night on the red-eye from Seattle to Florida, reliving yesterday’s early morning kissing on the dock as the sun rose into a glorious amber and blue sky.

He’d been sweet, clearly meaning his words about never making her feel helpless or trapped or pushing her into something she didn’t want.