Hatched

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"Everyone shut up." A muffled, feminine voice issued from thin air. The men whirled around, eyes darting wildly as they searched for the source of the noise.

A crumpled heap of blankets near the boat's stern began moving as something underneath stirred. Quinn felt his heart drop as he grasped the rough cloth and ripped back the edge of the sheet, a thin, blonde figure emerging from the folds.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He whispered, eyes wide, chest hammering with fear. She couldn't be here, he'd go insane. There wasn't much in life he could control, but the things he did, he did well. After his wife died, he vowed if love should ever befall him again, that he'd do anything to protect whomever he'd given what was left of his heart. Push come to shove, he'd kill for Robyn, and that scared him shitless.

"What, you thought you could brush me off? Trick me into staying behind?" Robyn glowered, extracting her limbs from the cloth. "No way in hell."

"Damn it." He cursed, pulling her into a rough hug, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It smelled of fresh water, sunlight, and a flower he couldn't name.

She tensed in his arms, struggling as she fought to free herself from his embrace. "Stop it, you chauvinistic, fanciful asshole."

That stung: of course, he'd tricked her nearly every step of the way during the investigation, but it had either been purely for exploratory reasons, or for safety precautions.

"Quit fighting me." He pleaded, tilting his head to catch her angry gaze. Her eyes were vivid blue, shining with hurt and resentment, and he hated that he'd made those feelings manifest. "I need you to understand."

"Understand what?" She huffed, tone gentler, though still upset.

"I need to keep you safe." The words were definitive, possessive, as he claimed responsibility for her wellbeing.

"From what?" Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, but her body stilled, relaxing in his arms.

"For the first time in my career," he began, inching his head closer, holding his gaze with hers "I have no idea what we're walking into. I can't-" He faltered; the words stuck proudly in his throat.

"You can't what? All this time you've been obnoxiously eloquent, and now, you can't utter a few simple words." She challenged, calling him out on what they both knew he wanted to say.

He swallowed decisively; there wasn't a better time to come out with it. "I care about you, deeply, so completely that I can't breathe sometimes when you're around." His heart skipped as he brought the feelings to life with his voice. "I can't do this, if you're in danger, and I can't-I can't be the one to lead you into that situation."

"You care for me?" Her brow quirked, setting his next move, taunting him to place his bet.

"Damn it, I don't now how else you want me to say it, Robyn." He blurted, gently shaking her shoulders.

A small, receptive smile teased the corners of her mouth, and she tipped her face up, closing the distance between them. "The way you said it is fine. I understand."

"Good." He breathed, her scent overwhelming him, pulling him like a magnet toward her. His lips ached to be on hers, so that's what he did: he caught her mouth with his eagerly, longingly, moving his lips over hers with urgency. Her body responded, and so did his. An animalistic urge threatened to erupt from his core, and his slacks were becoming tight below the belt.

"Mazel Tov." The disgruntled lieutenant grumbled, turning the boat. "We're almost there."

Quinn looked over the horizon, the faint outline of the rig just visible now, though still some distance away.