Wild Thing. Doranna Durgin

speed.

      She hadn’t meant to put that faint gleam of hurt in his eye. Only to protect herself. To regain herself.

      “I don’t need to prove myself to you,” Mark said. “Not to anyone.”

      “No, I meant—” She stopped, every part of her miserable and hating this. Worse than not being noticed. “It wouldn’t make sense to put me with Ruger, either.” Massive Ruger, who took the bear. “In a team, maybe. As partners…it just gives us something to overcome. That’s why I usually work alone.”

      “Ruger is a healer, not a tracker. Not security.” But he took it down a notch. “It’s no big deal, Garrett.” Even if maybe it was, if maybe a moment ago he might have called her Tayla instead. “You can be the legs if you want.” His gaze flicked down the length of her knickers and down her bare calves, all the way down to her biking sneaks, and right back up again, all the way to her—

      She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “Really,” she said firmly, speaking to Carter. “I work better alone.”

      She expected him to shake his head. He wouldn’t have brought them here if his mind wasn’t already made up. But she didn’t expect—

      “Let me be blunt,” he said. “I need more from you than you’re giving. I need more from you than you can give right now. I’m borderline on taking you out of the field for assessment.” He stopped—out of pity or mercy, she couldn’t tell. But you know these parks. You’re a tracker. You work personal security. You’re used to putting on an innocuous front.” Okay, maybe she’d get through this unscathed…

      Or maybe not.

      Carter’s gaze narrowed. “But not by yourself.”

      She dared another glance at Mark. No, it really couldn’t get any worse. She’d fumbled in front of him, she’d insulted him, and now Nick Carter had stripped her bare and naked in front of him. He no longer looked hurt or angry; he looked distant. Maybe even sorry for her.

       Great.

      “Mark’s unique perspective can make a difference,” Carter told her. “I need it to make a difference. And so do you.”

      Tayla stood a little straighter, lifted her head a notch higher, and dragged herself through the moment with sheer strength of will and a stubborn chin.

      “I mean it,” Carter said. “Don’t pretend you don’t see the problems lately. If you want to stay in the field, you’ll listen—you’ll let Mark be your partner, not just someone you pretend isn’t there.”

      Mark snorted gently beside her. So he’d noticed, had he?

      “And Tayla,” Carter said, not easing that hard wolf gaze of his one little bit, “the Sentinels need it to make the difference, too. This summit is critical—more critical than I can even tell you. We must have this information.”

      Mark leaned forward. “This have anything to do with the leak on that Tucson operation?”

      Carter stiffened. Ever so slightly, if only for an instant. He said only, “It’s important. Too important to let personalities and feelings rule what happens next. Do you both hear me?”

      “Yes,” Tayla said. She’d caught a snatch of equilibrium in that scant exchange, moments when the spotlight had turned away. She might not agree, she might hate this, but she understood clearly enough—this choice was no choice at all. She’d come to terms with the details once she had some space to herself. She could ground herself in that, find a certain calm there.