“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t go around slapping people all the time.”

He arched his brow in doubt.

“You’re the exception.” Her eyes glimmered with amusement. “I’ll try to restrain myself in the future.”

“Thank you. I’ll try not to be exceptional.”

She grinned. “I think we’re going to make a great team.”

His heart squeezed in his chest. She seemed genuinely happy to be with him. Her smile had a way of lighting up her face, making her eyes twinkle and her lips look soft and luscious. Seconds ticked by as he stared at her mouth.

Slowly her smile faded. “Russell?”

“Yes.” He lifted his gaze to her eyes. Her beautiful golden eyes.

Time stretched out as they looked at each other. The air between them grew thick and heavy, almost electric. He could feel the sizzle wherever her body was pressed against his.

Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and he leaned forward.

Beep, beep, beep.

He jerked his head back. The alarm on his watch went off. Shit. It was loud enough to wake the dead. Or the Undead. He’d put the alarm on its highest volume, thinking she would be miles away when the allotted hour was up.

She fumbled with her hands behind his neck. “How do I turn it off?”

“Let me see it.” He turned his head just as she leaned forward to look over his shoulder. His mouth brushed against her cheek.

Immediately she pulled back, breaking the contact.

“That was an accident.”

“I know.” Her face flushed pink.

He gritted his teeth. What had happened to that sexy moment when he’d thought she’d wanted him to kiss her? Had he only imagined it?

She avoided looking at him. “Maybe you should put me down.”

“The ground beneath us would collapse. Hang on a second.” He teleported her down into the bat cave. The damned watch continued to beep, filling the cave with a loud echo.

With her feet on solid ground, she let go of his neck. In the dark, he slid his hand along her arm till he hit metal. “What is this?” he said over the noise of the alarm.

“One of my mother’s bracelets. I put them on to encourage myself.”

A pang of guilt nagged at him. “I’m sorry I left you so far away.” He felt past the bracelet and found his watch. “I was worried something would happen to you.”

“You worried about me?” she asked just as he punched the button to turn off the alarm.

The cave was suddenly silent, her question hanging in the air unanswered. He berated himself for admitting too much as he unfastened the watch, then slipped it into a pocket.

“Stay put till I get some lights on.” He lit two oil lamps close to the kitchen area.

She looked around the cave, her mouth curling into a small smile. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

His answering smile faded when he felt his heart squeeze once again. Don’t fall for her, he warned himself. You can protect her and admire her, but don’t start caring about her.

He moved to the table to gather his weapons, and when she joined him there, he noticed her slight limp. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re injured.”

“It’s just a scratch.” She removed the knife from her right boot and set it on the table. “I’ll clean my ankle in the stream and be good to go.”

He pulled a stool toward her. “Sit.”

“You’re making too much of this.”

“Sit.” As soon as she sat, he hunched down and pulled off her boot.

“I can do it myself.”

“Your sock is still damp.” He pulled that off as well. “I’ll give you some dry ones so your feet won’t chafe.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Why not?” He looked up at her. “You want sore feet?”

She heaved a sigh. “I know you didn’t want this partnership, so I won’t allow myself to be a burden.”

Did she think he was looking for an excuse to be rid of her? She must not realize how attracted he was. Or how, in the last moments, he had desperately wanted her to pass the test.

He rolled up the hem of her pants, trying not to think how delicate her ankle looked or how soft her skin was. “You’re not a burden. You’re a partner. That means for the success of our mission, we must keep each other’s health and safety in mind. If you’re injured or in any way incapacitated, you have to let me know.”

“All right.”

He examined the bloody scrape that started at her ankle and extended a few inches up her calf. Another pang of guilt nicked at him.

She stiffened suddenly. “What is that? You have Han’s mark on your arm?”

With a muttered curse, he glanced at the tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. “It’s nothing.”

“All of Han’s men have that mark. I’ve seen it on a bunch of soldiers who were in the clinic at Tiger Town. It means ‘slave’—”

“It means nothing. Now stay put so you don’t get any sand in the wound.” He filled a bucket from the stream, then poured water over her ankle and foot.

“How did you get it?” she asked softly. “Did he capture you? Force you to work for him? Were you under his control?”

“No!” Russell scowled at her. “He never controlled me.”

“Then why do you have his mark? Why do you want to kill him?”