He didn’t care about his shoulder. He didn’t care about anything except her. “Eve—”
She held up a hand to keep him from reaching for her and stepped back. “No, don’t. Just don’t, okay? Let me focus on what I need to do today. That’s all I can handle right now.”
If he’d seen confidence in her eyes or even challenge, he’d have grabbed her, shoved her up against the wall, and kissed her until all thought rushed out of her head. But he didn’t see that. He saw fear. Stark fear, over a truth he wasn’t sure how to argue against.
She was right. He didn’t know the real her. Not all of her. And he’d been wrong about her before. If she let him all the way in and he didn’t like what he found, he’d be the one to blame for making things worse for both of them.
But that didn’t mean he was giving up.
“This conversation isn’t over, Eve. And whether you want to admit it or not, I know more of you than you think. I’m not the one you have to be afraid of.”
He moved out of the bathroom, and she quickly closed the door at his back. But before it clicked, he heard her whisper, “You’ve always been the one I’m afraid of.”
Eve’s skin felt three sizes too small.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the Taurus, she shifted away from Zane and stared at the scenery whizzing by her window.
She should have left. She shouldn’t have come back this morning. The more time she spent with him, the more he pushed her toward wanting a future she was never going to have.
Forget this morning. She should have been smart from the first and left him lying on the floor of that warehouse loft as soon as he untied her from that chair.
Her mind skipped back to the group of men who’d come barreling through that door, then to her meeting with Smith in Seattle. “Chechnya. I’ve never been to Chechnya. I’ve never investigated anyone working in Chechnya. So my being the target in Seattle couldn’t have been personal.”
“Unless you know something you don’t know you know.”
She harrumphed. “Okay, Dr. Seuss.”
He frowned. “You can be a real smart-ass sometimes, you know that?”
The hurt in his voice caused Eve’s gaze to slide his way. She watched the sunlight weave through his thick, dark hair, highlighting the strands and the bit of wave. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, brushing his collar and skimming his ears, but she liked the shaggy look on him. Liked the sexy scruff on his jaw from days without shaving too.
Focus, Eve.
She looked back out the window. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy being a woman in this business.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever was on that drive is more than a simple list of compromised agents.”
“What do you know about something called Project Thirteen?”
Eve’s gaze shot his way again, this time in surprise. “It’s a top secret biological weapons program. Why?”
He still didn’t look at her. His gaze was focused out the windshield, and both hands gripped the steering wheel, accentuating the muscles in his arms and the strength in his shoulders. “Adam Humbolt, the target in that Guatemalan raid, was a scientist supposedly working on some top secret shit for the government. Turns out, Humbolt was working on Project Thirteen, but we were told he was a chemical weapons specialist who’d been kidnapped while vacationing in the Caribbean.”
“That cover’s a little convenient, don’t you think?”
“Now? Hell yeah. Especially when I heard from Aegis this morning that ADD Roberts specifically requested Aegis be the one to go in after him.”
That didn’t make sense. Eve’s brow dropped low. “Why would the assistant deputy director of counterintelligence for the CIA be involved in the rescue mission of a US scientist? That would fall under a different division.”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Slowly, Eve looked back out the windshield. There were too many questions. Too many threads to this that didn’t align.
As they pulled into the parking lot of Lake Padden Park, where they’d agreed to meet Eve’s Canadian contact, Eve’s stomach tensed.
The park was wide and green, with tall trees and a broad dog run. A running trail wound away from the parking lot and playground and into the woods. A handful of benches sat scattered through the area. Several young children swung on the swing set and ran around the bark chips near the play structure, and a few rambunctious dogs chased balls and returned them to their masters in the field.
Zane shut off the engine and eyed the park. “Where’d you say we’re meeting her?”
“About a quarter mile down the running path. She said there’s an old oak and a bench. Can’t miss it.”
Zane pulled the keys from the ignition. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
The fine hairs standing at attention all along Eve’s nape screamed the same thing, but this was their best lead at this point.
Grabbing the backpack from the backseat—the one Zane had had stashed in the wheel well of the car—she set it on her lap. She pulled out a Beretta 92G from the bag and handed it to Zane. “Those jam. Be careful.”
He huffed as he took the weapon. “Not if you use them right, beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes and checked the magazine on her Glock 17. “Her name’s Natalie.”
He climbed out of the car without responding, and her chest squeezed tight as she watched his long legs filling out the faded jeans and that black T-shirt molding to his strong chest and abs. He holstered the gun at his lower back and pulled the shirt over the butt, then swung the backpack over one shoulder.
He was upset with her over what had happened this morning, and he had every right to be. But it didn’t change reality. And wishing she could rewrite the past so she could have a different future was futile at this point.
Drawing a deep breath, she popped the car door and eased out. Cool morning air rushed over her skin, but the sun was shining, a sign the day couldn’t be all bad. She holstered her own gun and tugged her T-shirt over the bulge. Then she looked toward Zane over the top of the car. “Ready?”
He grinned her way—a mesmerizing smile that lit up his whole face and warmed her belly. “Sure, baby. You want to swing first or go for a walk?”
He was settling into their cover. Pretending to be a couple in love, out for a morning stroll. And while the thought of holding his hand electrified Eve, it also scared her to death.
Be tough. Be strong. Don’t give in to stupid emotions right now.
She worked up her own smile and moved around the front of the vehicle. “Let’s walk. I want to be alone with you, handsome.”
He tugged on a Mariners cap and took her hand, his skin warm, the pulse beneath strong and steady. But she felt the tension in his muscles. Felt the way he was holding back after everything she’d said this morning.
You have no idea how much I wish things could be different . . .
The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them when he tugged her toward the path. A dog barked. Nerves gathered in Eve’s belly when she realized heads were turning their direction.
Zane’s fingers, intertwined with hers, shifted to her lower back, pinning her arm behind her. Then he stopped, tugged her into him, and lowered his head. “People are looking.”
They’d talked about this. About the fact they’d be in a public place. That people would be on the lookout for anyone out of the norm. That Zane’s description was all over the news. But her face still hadn’t been made public by the CIA, and whatever they could do to keep attention off him as an individual was their only hope of not being caught.