Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
That got her attention. If he’d known anything about the information she sought, he wouldn’t have asked that question.
“How do you not know?” She searched his eyes, her mind spinning. “You took down the defector who sold the intel, but you didn’t know what that intel was?”
He just stared at her.
Well, this was unexpected, but it changed nothing. If anything, it gave her more leverage. He didn’t care about the missing property. His only stake in this was his survival.
“How do you know about Thurney Bridge?” he asked.
What? She searched her memory and came up blank. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Hiding her confusion, she tucked away his question to investigate later. “Tell me who bought the stolen intel.”
“I don’t know.”
His tone held conviction, his gaze unblinking. She almost believed him. Almost.
A lot of money, time, and risk had been put into Cole Hartman’s capture because he was the only one close to Marie Merivale. He might not have known what she was selling, but he knew every person involved, including the buyer.
Lydia’s team had made numerous attempts to interrogate Marie. Fruitless attempts. Federal prison was the safest, most inaccessible place for her to be. Any threats to her life were impossible. She had no family or friends to use against her. She was a dead end.
“If Marie wasn’t in a high-security prison,” she said, “we would’ve taken her instead of you. Think about that, Cole. If you would’ve just let her go and returned to your fiancée, you wouldn’t be in this dilemma. And maybe your girl wouldn’t have fucked your best friend.”
His jaw set, and a vein bulged in his forehead.
Shit. She didn’t mean to piss him off. That wasn’t her goal.
“I shouldn’t have said that. For what it’s worth.” She lowered onto the crate beside him and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “No matter how perfect you think she was for you, there’s always someone better.”
He barked a humorless laugh. “You don’t believe in love? Or fate?”
“In our line of work, there is only war, and that, tigryenok, is always fueled by hate.”
“There’s a quote—I think it’s G.K. Chesterton—that goes something like, A soldier fights not because he hates what’s in front of him, but because he loves what’s behind him.” He lowered his voice, his cadence thoughtful as he rubbed his forehead. “We all have something valuable behind us, compelling us to fight. You already know mine. My friends, the people you threatened, they’re my family.”
That was the most personal thing he’d ever revealed, and she was so taken with the unguarded nature of his words that she didn’t move, didn’t dare interrupt.
“I’ll be honest,” he said, “when you showed me the video of the drone, it scared the shit out of me. Those people are irreplaceable. Not because they’re perfect. They’re not. But because they’re mine. Mine to protect. Mine to fight for.”
“Like Danni?”
“Yes, including Danni. So here I am, protecting them, fighting for them, not out of hate, but out of love. Because that’s what people do.” He dropped his head and raised his eyes, peering at her through his thick lashes. “Don’t kid yourself, Lydia. There’s more to this, to you, than hate. What are you fighting for? What do you love?”
An unwanted flutter thrummed in her belly. Everything he said gripped her deeply, his questions stroking hidden nerves. And those bottomless brown eyes… Jesus, they seemed to understand her. She wanted him to see more, to hear and feel her reasons.
She opened her mouth to answer him. And snapped it shut.
It was a trap. A damn good one. If she weren’t so jaded, she would’ve fallen for it.
“I know what you’re doing.” She sat taller, meeting him stare for stare.
“Enlighten me.”
“Maybe you’re used to charming the pants off women before they even stop to wonder why, but…” Her breath caught, her eyes narrowing on the panties wrapped around his hand.
The panties, she realized with dawning horror, that she’d handed over without questioning the real reason he wanted them.
“You were saying?” His thumb roved over the silk on his palm, his expression stony.
Heat bloomed across her skin, her anger rising and something else, something stirring low in her belly. She hated him for this. For tricking her, and at the same time, turning her on.
She could be a petty bitch about it and take back the damn underwear. But no, that wasn’t her. Instead, she shook it off and gave credit where credit was due.
“I don’t know how you did it.” She rose to her feet and smiled down at him. “I don’t know how you talked me out of my underwear, but well done.”
“You wanted me to have them.”
Did she? God, maybe she did. “I won’t fall for it next time.”
“I look forward to it.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes. “Until next time, Lydia.”