Catching Red by Tara Quan Page A

herself. “Admit it. I’m much better at killing them than you are.”
    *
    He was falling for Red. The sinking suspicion had been nagging Marcus for the past seven days, but in this moment, all his doubts were shredded. She was the one.
    She unfolded from her position and bounced up. An instant later, her eyelids fluttered. She swayed on her feet and stumbled. With a curse, he rushed to her side and scooped her into his arms.
    She groaned. “It was just a head rush. I’ve been spending too much time in bed. Don’t you dare get all overprotective on me. Put me down.”
    He choked back a laugh. The woman had an independent streak a mile wide. It made her equal parts aggravating and endearing. “Can I put you down after we’re back inside?”
    She pouted. “All my body parts are accounted for and in working condition. I can walk. Besides, don’t you need to look after Gold?”
    He glanced at his horse, which had made its way back under the makeshift bramble shelter. “You do realize she’s wild. Gold had been living a perfectly healthy life long before I came along. She’ll be fine.”
    Red folded her arms. “That description also applies to me. I’m tired of you carrying me all over the place. You’ve only just stopped hovering a few hours ago. Now it’ll start all over again.”
    Unable to resist the temptation, he lowered his head and nibbled her lower lip. Like clockwork, her cheeks turned pink. “Maybe I just like picking you up? It makes me feel macho.” Catching her quizzical expression, he clarified. “Macho means manly and strong.”
    “You shouldn’t have problems feeling that way without my help.”
    When she snuggled into his chest, he felt a piece of his future shift and fall into place. Red was going to bring him a world of trouble, but he could no longer imagine his life without her.
    Inside the bunker, he set her on her feet before bolting the door. He turned to find her draping her knife belt over her overstuffed backpack. She had placed all her possessions by the exit. While he wanted to believe she planned on accepting his help, her actions spoke otherwise. When the opportunity arose, she was going to run.
    He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on one of the wall hooks as she walked over to the stove. He grabbed the bunker’s sole chair and brought it to her side. “If you don’t want to lie down, at least take a seat.”
    She gave him an exasperated glare. “Didn’t we just have a conversation about your hovering?”
    He brushed his knuckles over her cold cheek. “Humor me.”
    With a dramatic eye roll, she sat. Unable to resist, he stood there and watched her for a long moment. The fire colored her translucent skin light orange. Her dark red hair glowed as light danced over the wavy tresses.
    He needed to feel those small delicate fingers on his skin. He wanted to taste her full lips and urge a surrendering moan from her throat. They had danced around this attraction for far too long. The future and past—suspicions and doubts—none of it mattered. They deserved to steal a moment of happiness before the storm’s end.
    He went down on one knee and untied her shoelaces.
    “I can do that myself.” Her voice was shaky. “I just wanted to warm my hands first.”
    He pulled her left shoe off and reached for the other. “I enjoy taking care of you.”
    Deciding to give her a second to digest his statement, he remained silent as he completed the task. “It’s something you should try to get used to.”
    He got up and placed her sodden sneakers and socks by the wall. She followed him. “I don’t like being in someone’s debt. Why don’t you let me return this one favor at least?”
    He let her push him onto the low chair. Made out of chrome, it was sturdy but far from comfortable. “Be my guest.”
    She sat on her knees and pulled up the cuffs of his jeans. “There are no laces.” She tapped the hardened leather with the tip of her finger. “How do they come off?”
    Since