Carter sighed. “Your soft spot’s showing, Juliet.”
“I don’t have a soft spot, dammit. I’m just . . . tired and stressed and . . . not thinking clearly.”
“Does the dumbass know how you feel?”
How could he? Eve barely understood how she felt herself. And she didn’t want to feel anything for him, but she knew now that was a pipe dream. The truth was, she hadn’t been able to leave him last night like she should have because she still cared about him. And she wasn’t walking out now—like a sane person would—because somewhere, deep inside, she was still halfway in love with the guy.
Her heart thumped hard at that realization. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I haven’t been scared in a long time, but I’m scared now.”
“We’ll figure all of this out. Don’t worry. You’ve got Archer there, and I’m here to help, however I can. Did you set up the meeting with your CSIS agent?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow. Oh nine hundred, in Bellingham.”
“Good. By tomorrow night this could all be over.”
Over . . .
The word hung in Eve’s mind, and she chanced a look back toward the closed bathroom door. Yeah, she wanted this nightmare over, but as soon as that happened, Zane would be gone. And then she’d be alone, like she’d been before. Except this time she’d have the fresh memory of what it felt like to have his arms close around her, to have his lips on hers, to remember the exquisite pleasure only he’d ever been able to wring out of her.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Carter said softly. “You’re gonna be fine.”
She huffed out a half laugh and looked back out the window. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t care about me. I just don’t want anything to happen to my sister or Archer because of me.”
“We’ll find your sister. It’s what we do. I’ve got people looking into her disappearance now. As for Archer . . . he’s a big boy. He knows the consequences.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t see things the way we do. He sees them in black-and-white, not shades of gray.”
“Which is what makes him different from us. Look, Eve, I can’t tell you what to do about the guy. You walked away from him once before, and what good did that do you? You’re right back with him again. Whether that’s fate or destiny or just bad luck, I don’t know. But I do know, if you still want him, you should go for it. I mean, it could work. You two could, like, buy a house together or something. When you run off to play 007, he could . . . I don’t know . . . What the fuck does he do these days?”
The absurdity of his words made Eve scoff. “Right. Most case officers get married three to four times, and the majority end up divorced and alone regardless of the number of times they say ‘I do.’ And that’s with someone who doesn’t know all the bad shit you’ve done. I’m not stupid enough to think there’s any kind of valentine at the end of my rainbow, especially not where Zane Archer is concerned.”
“I think you’re getting your holidays mixed up, honey.”
“See? Another reason it would never work out. Then there’s the very real fact he still hates my guts.”
Carter chuckled again. “You really are in a mood, aren’t you?”
Eve leaned a shoulder against the wall and pressed still-shaking fingers against her throbbing eyes. “I’m just . . . overwhelmed.”
“I know you are, honey, but this is all gonna work out. Trust me. If you’re conflicted, keep your distance from Archer and don’t do anything stupid. Meet with your contact in the morning, get that damn data drive, find out what’s on it, then call me. I’m not gonna let you go down for this, Eve. You’re not alone. You’ve got friends. Remember that.”
Friends. Eve wasn’t sure what that word meant anymore. She’d spent so many years lying and faking relationships for her job, she didn’t think she could recognize a friend even if they hit her over the head with a two-by-four.
“You’re not alone, and you don’t have to do everything on your own. I’m here with you in this.”
Zane’s words from the kitchen of that house on Bainbridge Island rushed through her mind. The words he’d spoken just before they’d left. Just after he’d kissed her crazy.
Her pulse ticked up again. And when the water finally shut off in the bathroom, she pictured him wet and dripping, his skin warm and glossy as he rubbed a fresh towel all over his muscular body. The blood beat hard and hot in her veins all over again, heading straight for her belly.
“Eve?”
Carter’s voice dragged her attention back to the phone. “What?”
“Everything okay? Think I lost you there for a minute.”
He had. Eve swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Oh God, she was losing it. And she had a sinking suspicion there was no way she’d be able to keep her distance from Archer tonight. Not the way she was suddenly feeling. “I’m . . . here.”
“Good. Get some rest and call me tomorrow.”
“I will. And Carter, please let me know if you hear anything about Olivia. Anything at all.”
“Done. Sleep well, Juliet.”
The line clicked in her ear, and Eve’s hand dropped to her side.
Stupid . . .
She rested her head against the wall and scrunched her eyes. She should leave right now before Archer came out of that bathroom. Before it was too late. But she wasn’t going to. No, like the idiot she’d been in Beirut, she was going to sit here and want and suffer. And if he even made one tiny move toward her, she’d probably rock his world, and hers, and fuck everything up for good.
Then hate herself even more in the morning.
Olivia’s throat was bone-dry.
She pushed her aching upper body off the frayed mattress she’d been lying on and looked toward the door. The room they’d moved her to felt like the Ritz compared to the box she’d been in before. She was in some kind of house. A high window on the wall let in moonlight, which illuminated the cracked plaster walls and the dirty wood floor, but she had no idea what it looked out at. Aside from the rusted iron bed—bolted to the wall—and the mattress stained with sweat and blood, there was no other furniture to move around so she could climb up to see. And the bars over the windows prevented her from getting out, even if she had the energy to try.
It felt like cotton coated her mouth, and she licked her lips for the hundredth time. She needed water but was too afraid to bang on the door and ask. A shudder ran through her when her mind flashed to the image of that man climbing into the back of the van with her after she’d tried to run. As if he’d hit her all over again, pain ricocheted through her entire body.
Her head throbbed. She was filthy and covered in her own blood, and part of her didn’t even want to know where the blood had come from. She’d blacked out in that van—the only plus to the entire ordeal—and she didn’t want to think about or do anything to trigger her memories.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she closed them quickly, willing back the self-defeating thoughts. Someone would find her. People had to know she was missing by now. Her principal. The secretary at school. Her mind spun with possibilities, and then she remembered the guy in the van mentioning Eve.
Eve worked as an assistant to some politician in Washington, DC. Surely once she realized Olivia was missing, with her contacts, she’d send someone to come after Olivia.
But even as she tried to convince herself all wasn’t lost, a tiny voice in the back of Olivia’s head whispered, No one’s coming after you. You’re not important. What have you ever done that makes your life worth saving? And then there was the very real fact she and Eve hadn’t spoken in over a year.