rumbling in his gut.
She hadn’t cared that his old boss was trapped in a nightmare because his fiancée had gone missing or that his boss’s twin brother nearly had got killed in an explosion. She asked him to turn his back on everything he knew to be right, and he couldn’t do it.
After the tense discussion, Davis and Pax had agreed they needed to finish the job. Just a few more days. Davis had justified it in his head until he blocked out the sound of her voice. The operation ended but Davis had come back to Lara and her packed bags and the engagement ring on the kitchen counter.
He couldn’t deal with any of that now. “I see the irony.”
“It’s more than that, Davis. We broke up over your habit of picking your job over me.” In the past, she’d deliver a line like that in a moment of pure female fury. Now she said it with all the emotion of reading a grocery list.
“We broke up over a lot of things.” Her lack of support and refusal to accept who he really was being some of the points he remembered.
She opened her mouth twice but nothing came out. Without warning the tension left her shoulders. “I am going to let that go because you saved my life today.”
Not sure he’d actually won that round but unwilling to get her riled, he nodded. “Much appreciated.”
“I’m guessing you don’t sit at a desk at this new job.”
There always had been so much about his job he couldn’t explain. This was part of that. “I’m sitting now.”
“You always were the best at dodging a question.” She lifted her hair off her neck. If she was hoping for a breeze, none came.
The air stood still. The heat was actually wet, choking as it burned down your throat. Having her sit there, sun-kissed and hotter than he remembered, made his temperature spike into the danger zone. This heat had nothing to do with anger or the temperature outside. This was pure, unfiltered need. All the fighting and months apart hadn’t crushed that.
“Ask me anything, but first answer one question.” He rubbed his hands together, debating if this was the right time. “Why me?”
“What?”
“You could have called the police or a friend. You were thirty miles away and you’d had a huge scare and you got in a car and drove to me.”
Amusement lit her brown eyes and a smile inched over her lips. “You’re the only spy I know.”
He really did hate that word and she knew it. “I’m serious.”
“You weren’t the best fiancé but you were great at your job. I knew I needed the best.” She glanced at the radio on the deck next to his foot. “Anything on the news yet?”
“No.” The answer was automatic. It wasn’t as if the radio was even turned up loud enough to hear it. At this level it sounded more like static or a low mumble, but he knew how this game was played. “Wasserman was in the military. NCIS probably dropped a net over this while the experts come in to collect evidence.”
A different emotion moved over her face. One that looked suspiciously like doubt. “Explain to me again why we aren’t reporting the murder.”
“I don’t want questions from anyone, including NCIS, the FBI or the police, until we know what happened in that kitchen and why.”
“I don’t get it.”
Of course she didn’t, because he was purposely not explaining it. That plan might have worked on another woman, one not as smart or intuitive. One who let things slide and accepted things just because someone said them with authority. Nothing about that description fit Lara.
She picked and checked and he’d loved that about her from the beginning. A whiny, clingy type didn’t suit him. He wanted vibrant…then he’d had it and lost her anyway.
The least he could do was let her see how this would go. “How many people knew you would be at Wasserman’s house today?”
She shrugged. “A few. Why?”
“Did you touch anything?”
“I don’t—”
“A table. The door. A glass.” He ticked the possibilities off on her fingers.
“All of them. What is your…?” She blew out a long breath. “You think I’ll be blamed for this?”
“Possibly.” Definitely. The police would look at the forensics, and Davis feared those results would only point in one direction. Hers.
“But not coming forward will only make me look more guilty.”
“That depends on why Wasserman was killed.” A question Davis wanted answered as soon as possible.
“What are you saying?”
A bell dinged in the distance as birds squawked. “Someone took him out before he could talk with you. Who knows what information he had or why someone would want it silenced.”
“Yes, so—”
“He asked specifically to speak with the investigator.” Davis switched seats. Instead of sitting across from her, he slid in next to her with his arm running along the back of the bench seat. “Coughlin, the guy you’re investigating, didn’t put Wasserman on the list. He got there because he came forward. He had something to say and specifically asked to say it that day.”
“How do you know this?”
His hand brushed against her back, right near her shoulders. When she didn’t pull away or wince, he kept it there. “I know people.”
“I’m serious.”
His fingers touched her soft hair. The gentle waves wrapped around his thumb. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“I don’t believe this.” She bent forward with her arms wrapped around her waist. When she started rocking, he moved in closer.
“Hey, come here.” That arm slid around her and pulled her in tight against his side. Seeing her confused made bile rush up the back of his throat. “It’s going to be fine.”
She stared at his wide eyes, and a strain pulled across her cheeks and mouth. “How can you say that?”
“As you pointed out, I’m very good at what I do.” His fingers threaded through her hair as his mouth hovered just inches from hers.
“What is it you plan to do?”
Kiss her, deep and hard, and not stop while either of them could still move. He wasn’t one to mix business and pleasure, but control deserted him when she was around.
Even after she’d left, he kept the memories of her alive. He wanted to be pissed and still seesawed back and forth, but he couldn’t hold on to the rage. The hurt and disappointment, well, those lingered.
But she was talking about work and he forced
