He laughed at those words. Sullivan just couldn’t help it. Mac was pretty much the definition of the strong, silent type. The only guy more closemouthed than Mac?
That would be me.
Her face softened a bit as she stared up at him. “You should do that more, you know.”
“What?”
“Laugh. Let go of that iron control of yours and just enjoy life.”
His laughter faded away. “Maybe you should follow the same advice.” And you should stay with me. Just for the night. “Are you always on guard?” Sullivan asked her.
Her dimples flashed, but her smile wasn’t real. “You tell me. You lived in my world for a few months. Is it really the kind of place where you can let down your guard?”
He’d joined the CIA and worked in the Special Activities Division, or SAD, as the group was called. He’d been undercover, working to make a difference, desperately trying to collect needed intelligence in a hostile country—only that case had gone to hell, fast. Friends had become enemies, and he’d found himself on the run.
Then...captured.
Tortured.
Left for dead.
“You can let your guard down with me, Celia. Trust me, just for this night,” he told her. Because now he could see the edge of fear that she’d been working so hard to conceal at his office. And...she was pale. Shadows were under her eyes, shadows that even the careful application of makeup couldn’t hide.
She needed rest. She needed safety.
I want her to need me.
“Just for the night,” Celia said. “Only that.”
He actually shook his head because he hadn’t thought she’d agree, but— “You’ll stay with me?”
“Just for the night,” she said again. “Come morning, I have plans.”
She pulled away from him and headed toward his hallway. “Which one is the guest room?”
It took a moment for her question to register. She’d never been in his house before, so she didn’t know her way around. They’d been married, but...he hadn’t brought her to his home. He hadn’t introduced her to his family. He’d said his I do part to her, then taken a mission almost the next day. He’d been shipped out of the country. She’d been scheduled to follow him two days later.
But...everything had changed.
“The third door,” he said. “On the left.”
She looked back. “That better not turn out to be your bedroom there, Marine. Because trusting you to give me a place to crash tonight is not the same thing as trusting you in bed.”
If only.
“My bedroom is the first door.” Had his voice been too gruff? Maybe. The thought of her in his bed had made him sound too rough.
She turned away.
He called out, “But feel free to go in there. Because you can trust me on this...if you go to my room, I will give us both what we need.”
If she’d give him the chance, he’d give her everything. Anything she wanted.
“Don’t hold your breath on that one,” Celia threw back at him. Then she vanished down the hallway.
His breath expelled on a long rush. I’ve got you in my house, baby. That’s step one...
* * *
“YOU LOST CELIA JAMES?”
Porter Vance winced as he heard the rage, transmitted so very clearly over the phone. “Look, boss, the woman is CIA. It’s not like she isn’t trained to—”
“You’re ex-CIA. You’re supposed to understand her moves. You’re supposed to find her and eliminate her. End of story.”
Porter glanced around the busy intersection. The parking garage was behind him—the garage that contained Celia’s abandoned vehicle. “You were right, you know,” he said, trying to distract the boss. “She did go to see Sullivan McGuire. That’s where I found her. I just parked myself right outside McGuire Securities and she damn near came running out of the business and straight at me. I trailed her, had her in the parking garage on Forty-Seventh Street and then...” He cleared his throat.
“Then you lost her. A woman that I paid you ten thousand dollars to eliminate.”
Right. He hadn’t exactly gotten the money yet. It was one of those pay-on-delivery deals. So far, he hadn’t delivered a dead Celia James. “I’ll get her. Listen, I’m already back at McGuire Securities. She’ll show here again. If she doesn’t, I’ll just use Sullivan to get her. She’s still tied to him. He can be the bait. When she knows I’ve got him, she’ll come running to me.”
Laughter carried across the line. “Sullivan isn’t easy prey. None of the McGuires are...but especially not him.”
There was something in the boss’s voice...
“Do you think I didn’t try to eliminate him? Do you honestly think I didn’t do my best to kill that guy when I had the chance?”
“I—”
“Your usefulness is at an end.”
It took a moment for those cold words to sink in.
And another minute to realize...
I’ve been shot.
Because the bullet had been so quiet as it found its mark. There was no bang. No boom. Just a faint whistle as it cut through the air and sank into Porter’s chest.
And then the pain came, burning slowly through his heart.
He looked down. It was dark there, too dark for him to see clearly but—
My shirt is wet. I’m bleeding.
He still had the phone in his hand. Still had it pressed to his ear. But his legs were crumpling and Porter knew...the boss had called him so that he’d be distracted. The boss had already known he’d failed at his mission.
And the boss didn’t accept failure.
He was watching me. He called... He was going to kill me, no matter what I told him. Maybe because he’d just been another loose end.
Just like Celia.
The phone fell from his fingers and he crashed onto the concrete.
“Will you marry me, Celia?”
She
