She had been, though. Synapses slowly started to fire, like links in a chain firming up when pulled tight. And oh man, he wasn’t going to believe her. But the truth . . . the truth was the only thing that seemed to be condensing in her mind. Where were the carefully orchestrated covers? Where were the lies she so often rattled off without a second thought? “I . . . I was working undercover.”
“Spying.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“For whom?”
“The CIA.”
“Oh, Evie.” Snip. Whoosh. Clank. “I didn’t realize how eager you were to get naked.”
Eve gasped as her blouse fell open all the way to her belly button. Frustration, fear, and panic all coalesced in the bottom of her stomach. “I’m telling you the truth!”
Blinding pain lit off behind her eyes. Before he could ask her another question, she slammed her lids closed and groaned. “Oh God, my head.”
“You took a nasty hit on the noggin, beautiful. Breathe through it.”
She did. But not because he told her to. Because it was the only thing she could do.
“That’s better,” he said when her face relaxed. “Now, back to what we were discussing. You said you were spying. Are you implying you were spying on the CIA for the CIA?”
“Yes,” she managed, gritting her teeth through the pain that was, thankfully, now easing. “I mean . . . the Pentagon—”
“I’m not buying it, honey.” He snipped another button from her shirt. Only one remained.
A red haze lowered over Eve’s vision. He was trying to intimidate her. But this was Sawyer, not some terrorist. He wouldn’t really hurt her. Would he?
She struggled against the chair. “This is bullshit.”
“Ah, but you like bullshit. You spin it so well.”
Pain shot up her arms. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why? You tell me, Eve.” He leaned close to her ear. So close she could feel his lips brush her skin when he whispered, “Think hard. About the phone call you made to me. Just after the raid. When I was lying on the floor of that Huey bleeding out. Remember what you said?”
Eve’s whole body went cold. And that day—a year ago—flashed in her memory. Not fuzzy and watery as everything else, but crystal clear.
“ ‘I never lose.’ Ring a bell, Evie?”
Bile rose up in Eve’s stomach. This was not the same caring man she’d once thought of leaving the CIA for. Whatever gentleness used to be inside Sawyer—no, Zane Archer—was gone, thanks to what she’d done.
“There are all kinds of ways to go about getting the answers I want,” Archer said softly in her ear. “If you cooperate and tell me what you know, I’ll try to make it . . . pleasurable. You remember how nice I can be, don’t you, Evie?”
Unfortunately, she did. She remembered everything. Every secret touch, every stolen kiss, every nip and lick and suck and thrust. And she remembered how he’d made her feel. Not dead inside as she’d felt since Sam’s death, but alive.
Only this, what he had planned for her here—something in her gut told her this was not going to end up being sweet or romantic or anything like she remembered. The man she’d once known was nowhere to be found in the one at her back. Fear—true fear—slithered into her chest. Unless she found a way to make him listen, this was going to be bad.
Think, dammit. Archer knew all too well how important control was to her, and he was taking that from her now. Exposing not only her secrets but her body in the process, using that to intimidate her. This was a mind fuck, nothing more. He wouldn’t really hurt her.
Or so she hoped.
“I-I didn’t compromise your team in Guatemala, Archer. I-I wasn’t the one who turned you over. I found out the raid had been compromised after it was too late to get in touch with you.”
“You always were good at the lies, Evie.” He snipped the last button on her blouse. It hit the floor and rolled away, leaving the two halves of her shirt to swing open and a chill to slide over her bare skin.
His boots echoed on the floor as he came around to sit in front of her again. Eve’s adrenaline amped all over. “I’m not lying,” she said quickly. “When I called you after—when you were in the chopper”—she glanced at his leg and realized he’d limped around her chair. “I didn’t call to gloat. I called to make sure you were still alive.”
“Lies, Eve,” he said calmly, way too calmly, “come so easy to you.” He opened the blades of the scissors, positioned them at the hem of her skirt, and sliced through the black fabric.
“I’m not lying,” Eve said again. “I only acted like I was gloating because I didn’t know who might be listening. Archer, there are moles in the CIA. My unit hunts them down. That’s what I was doing in Beirut. What I’ve been doing since.”
He opened the scissors and sliced again. Her skirt opened to just above her knee. But unlike before, when he’d yelled at her, there was too little emotion on his face. As if he’d already decided she wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to hear and that nothing she had to say would change his mind. Goddammit, being caught by a terrorist was one thing. Being caught by someone who hated you and knew your weak spots was an altogether different horror.
“Archer—”
The cool blade of the scissors brushed her inner thigh, and she jumped. Panic pushed in and rippled through every inch of her body. And with it, in the background, something—a memory, a thought, a picture she couldn’t quite bring into focus—telling her there was an important element to all of this that she was forgetting. Something personal. Something from earlier. Something that would make what he was doing here seem like nothing.
Why couldn’t she remember?
“Archer, listen to me.” She swallowed again and tried to stay calm. Through a haze she fought the effects of the drug and focused on the here and now. “It killed me that I couldn’t tell you the truth in Beirut. It killed me that I couldn’t tell you on the phone that day I called. Someone inside the CIA set Aegis up to take the fall for that scientist’s death in Guatemala. Someone who wasn’t me. I swear it.”
His eyes stayed locked on her skirt. He opened the scissors and sliced through the fabric again. “It’s really too bad you chose to work in espionage. You’d have made millions in Hollywood.”
“Archer, dammit! I loved you, you son of a bitch! Why would I try to get you killed? I was trying to save you!”
The scissors stilled. His head lifted. Stormy hazel eyes locked on hers. Eyes that didn’t seem so sure anymore.
Her heart pounded hard. Her palms grew sweaty. “Archer—Zane—I-I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth. Just listen to me. Listen to what I have to say—”
A roar of metal slicing through metal echoed from the doorway. Sparks flew into the room, spraying across the floor.
Eve swiveled in the direction of the noise so fast she knocked the chair off balance and hit the concrete. Pain radiated through her shoulder, echoing in her head.
“Fucking fabulous. Your goons found us.” Archer was at her side in a flash.
The whir of a saw continued to snarl through the room. Voices echoed on the other side of the door. Voices that sounded even more hostile than Archer’s.
“Hold still.”
Something cold pressed against her ankle, followed by pressure and release.
Zip ties. Not handcuffs. He’d zip-tied her to the fucking chair.
He cut the tie from her other leg, grabbed her arm, and hauled her to her feet. The room spun. The cement was cold against her bare toes but solid. Shoving her around, he reached for her arms, bound at her back. “If you’re lying to me again, Eve, I swear to God this will pale in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”