“I’ll make you a deal.” He leaned forward and set down the bowl. His muscled forearms rippled as he rested his elbows on his denim-covered thighs. “You tell me why you’re wanted, and I might give you something to eat.”
Meeting his ice blue gaze with her own, Harper suddenly felt tired. His eyes were like clear glacial pools, compelling her to jump in and spill everything. She relished the thought. Her life had been a complete nightmare since she stepped off the bus. She was truly alone now. So it would be nice to tell someone about it. She craved someone to talk to. Maybe doing so would help her begin to deal with it.
But she wasn’t sure she was even ready to deal with it. Especially while tied to a couch. Albeit the supercushy couch of a supersexy man.
Wait. He’d said she was wanted. Fear fizzled in her stomach. He must be a cop or something. They must have found the bodies up in the Barracks and somehow tracked them to her. Oh, goodness. What was he going to do to her? She was probably going to prison. Forever. A sickening flush crawled across her skin.
“Look, lady.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his dark hair. “Either you talk to me or I take you in. Right now. Your choice.”
“Take me in where?” Harper asked, a little shakier than she had intended. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t meant to do anything to those guys. Holy cow. “Jail?”
“I’m not a cop,” the man said. She closed her eyes in relief. “I’m a government agent.” Her eyes snapped open in sharp panic. Holy herd of cows. The government was after her.
He raised a hand, his palm facing her in a calming gesture, as he obviously saw the alarm written all over her face. “Honey, just tell me the truth. Why was I sent to find you?”
She tried to calm down. It was hard to do under his intense scrutiny, but she had to; otherwise she might have another episode. They seemed to come when she got upset. She’d hate to rip him apart like she’d done to those other men. One, it would be an incredible waste of very nice man flesh. Two, he’d actually been okay with her, other than keeping her tied up and hungry. And three, he seemed to really want to hear her story.
Curious. Why bring her here, and not just turn her in to whomever in the government wanted her? Very curious. Maybe she should just come clean. It wasn’t as though she had many options. It could get a lot worse from here; that was for sure.
Meeting his gaze, she decided to give in and talk. “I don’t know.” Harper shook her head, the weight of her recent past lying heavily upon her. “I don’t know why any of this is happening.”
“Any of what?” he asked, leaning forward. Serious interest sparked in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” she countered hastily. He slumped back; a look of skepticism and disappointment washed over his rugged features. “Honestly, sir, I don’t understand what’s happening. That’s the truth.”
He raised a dark eyebrow and frowned, pulling out a stiff piece of paper from his back pocket. He turned it toward her.
Harper’s breath caught. In his hand was a photograph of her brother with his arm around her at the National Collegiate Swimming Championships three years ago. She’d won gold in every one of her events.
“Who is this man?” His deep voice broke her out of the proud memory. “And which one of you is Harpie?”
She almost choked at the nickname her brother had used for her since she was three. “That’s my brother, Bobby,” she managed in a shaky tone. “I’m Harper. Harpie is-was-his name for me.”
“Your brother,” he repeated immediately, demandingly. “The one you said was killed.” Did she say that? When had she blurted that out? Oh, right. When this man was forcefully restraining her. Before she passed out. “What did he do?”
“Nothing” was all she could say. She closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. “He was just a scientist.”
“Why was he killed?” the man asked levelly. But she couldn’t speak. She was too busy trying to control her misery and rage from the relentless questions. “Harper?” Her name rumbled off his lips, with a slight growly tone that tickled her tummy, strangely calming the simmering emotions within her.
She opened her eyes to look at him again, trying to emanate resolve. “I don’t know why my brother was killed,” Harper answered quietly, “but I’m going to find out.” A startled flicker passed through his blue eyes, then was gone. “And when I do, I’m going to make the people who killed him pay for it.”
His gaze remained locked with hers and she could see the wavering belief there. It was apparent that something was warring inside of him, as though he sincerely wanted to trust her. Why, she had no idea.
“You’re not lying to me, are you, Harper?” There it was again. Some kind of Midwest accent. The rolling way he said her name was too compelling, too dangerous.
“I’m telling you the truth,” she replied.
He stared for a long moment, then hoisted his long body from the chair and moved behind the sofa, out of her line of vision. Shadows flickered through the rays of sun shining into the room as she listened to him pace behind her.
Frustration threatened to surface, but she soon realized that the man was thinking. She remembered her father would pace-no, stalk, actually-back and forth at the top of the stairs while she and Bobby sat on the steps, waiting for him to come up with a punishment for whatever outrageous stunt they had pulled.
“Okay, Harper.” He suddenly appeared in front of her.
“Okay, what?” she answered, aware that she hadn’t heard him move. She’d have to be more cognizant of that. If she got the chance.
“I’ll help you,” he said, flopping down in his chair once again, his gaze burning into hers, making her blink. “I’ll help you find out why your brother was killed.”
“No way.” Even flatly refusing his offer, Harper’s smoky voice sent a thrill of excitement straight to his groin. The fact the woman was tied up on his couch didn’t help. “No thank you. No.”
“So, tell me how you really feel.” Rome shot her a sardonic half grin. He watched her expressive face closely, looking for clues to unlock the mystery and conflict she’d unwittingly brought into his life.
Harper was obviously keeping something from him, something big. But he was convinced that what she had revealed was the truth. He’d spent a lot of time deciphering people and cracking their personal codes, figuring out what they were hiding. His job, his very survival, demanded it.
So he more than trusted his well-honed instincts. And he was honest enough with himself to admit that she tapped something in him. Maybe it was how her resilient strength mixed with her naked candor. Or her terrified gaze mixed with her steely resolve.
“Why help me?” she asked simply, her emerald eyes imploring.
Why, indeed? She’d shocked him with her steadfast vow to find her brother’s killer. And find out why he was killed. Really, that was what bothered him the most. This woman, Harper, honestly had no idea why her scientist brother would end up a murder victim. Combine that with her frank confusion about what she had to do with it all. Plus, her apprehension about his being a government agent was also puzzling. He wanted answers that she apparently didn’t have or wouldn’t disclose.
Only once had he ever questioned a job before, and that one time had ended in tragedy. But Harper’s bleak fear was real. So was her fierce courage and strength. He needed to know why this beguiling woman was forcing him to doubt his duty.
“Why not help you?” His elusive answer caused her eyes to narrow.
“Before, you said you were taking me in.”
She twisted her hands nervously against the binding, the rope coiling and twisting. Maybe he should remove those now that he’d inexplicably decided to help her.