He didn't expect a direct confession if Luke was truly an enemy; no one would be that careless. Still, he couldn't ignore the unease crawling up his spine. His gaze flicked toward the others in the room, scanning them with quiet wariness.
The only person exempt from his scrutiny was the pale woman in the cast; everyone else, he studied like a soldier reading the battlefield. Tension rippled in his frame, coiled like a predator ready to strike, every movement calculated, like a puma eyeing its prey in silence.
"Nope, I wasn't one of them," Luke replied coolly, "but our girl was. She led a team of veteran soldiers to find you, and even went head-to-head in a shootout with your pursuers."
He leaned forward slightly, his expression darkening, the angelic handsomeness of his face shifting into something far more dangerous, murderous, even. "So tell me, how much do you remember? And how the hell did you end up in that situation?"
