Hart Attack

by Cristin Harber

How was she always so obvious to him? “Work stuff I wanted to run by Nic. Nothing really.”

  Roman took another sip, studying her. “If you say so.”

  She grabbed her purse from the hook under the bar. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Make sure no one roofies my Sprite, okay?”

  “No roofies. Got it.” Roman helped her off the barstool with a confident hand around her waist.

  He was too much to be around. The idea of feeling sorry for herself while sitting next to him was worse than the prospect of a hangover if she kept throwing back shots.

  “Careful, alright?” His hand lingered on the small of her back for a second too long.

  “Always.”

  The farther she walked from the main bar, the darker it became. Neon signs were the only lights in the back hall, making the area half lit. She wandered into the ladies room, stared at the mirror, and dialed Nicola. No answer. Of course.

  Beth leaned against the counter, staring at a wrinkle that might not be so imaginary, and cursed everything. What she wanted. What she missed. What she could never have again. Plus the job. That deserved a lot of cursing.

  Then she closed her eyes and ordered herself to get over it.

  This was the deal. The job. She’d committed herself to doing what it took for the sake of her country. Patriotic duty. If she could take a bullet for the country she loved, surely she could get close with a handsome guy.

  Maybe… Her stomach turned. Maybe not. No. She could do this job. She could…

  She put on her lip gloss, threw back her shoulders, and decided to ask Roman to drop her off at home. She’d make herself dinner, do a little Googling on Gregori Naydenov and the Sun Bowl, and she’d take on the job. Easy.

  “You’ve got this,” she said to herself, looking like an idiot. Talking to the mirror in the bathroom wasn’t her smoothest move, but it was the needed pep talk. She pushed open the bathroom door, powered out, and slammed into a towering hulk of muscle.

  “Party girl. You okay?”

  Well, the bathroom pep talk had been a good one until she had run into Roman. His eyes held her, and the back hall seemed too narrow, like the ceiling was dropping and the walls were closing. Her cheeks and neck flushed. Thick anticipation hung over them. And fuck it all, she couldn’t take a deep breath. There was no hiding from him tonight. Maybe ever.

  “Hey,” she whispered before swallowing the remnants of her pity party. “What’s up?”

  “You wobbled away, thought I should check on you.”

  “I didn’t wobble.” She turned, but his hand caught her shoulder. The electric air around them stopped moving. Just him and her, and she couldn’t break away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Beth…”

  She melted at her name on his tongue. He closed the space between them, and the warmth from his hard abs pressed against hers.

  His thumb grazed her ear when he pushed back her hair. His lips tickled as he whispered, “Cash and Nic left.”

  She knew that would happen. Hoped it would, too, maybe. But that hope was pressed far back in her mind. Because she could never be with Roman…

  He bent closer. His lips teased. Strong hands glanced off her shoulders, sliding down her arms. Everything about him was overwhelming. Broad. Rugged. Sexy. Just too much.

  Shivers shot down her back because, except for the desperate need for self-preservation, she wanted Roman. Badly. And he knew it. Damn.

  “You want to go?” he asked. His expressive eyes tested her boundaries. Their flirting in front of everyone was fine, almost expected. Last night had been different, but she’d shut that down. Now, alone again, they were still walking a fine line of why the hell not?

  Seriously. Why the hell not?

  The inches between them were fast disappearing. Tequila had been a bad idea. Beth wanted to go with him, anywhere so long as it was private. Her chin tilted up as if it had a mission of its own. Heart beating faster, she wanted to hold onto Roman and he wasn’t backing away.

  “You are making our truce very hard to stick to.” He pushed a piece of hair off her cheek and inched back. “I’ll drop you off at home. Your booty-call embargo will remain intact.”

  “I’m not a party girl. You know that, right?” Having a good time was one thing. Titan knew who she was, who she worked for. They were supposed to know the real deal except maybe that she took her cover too seriously. Maybe she’d used it for more than one reason. A party girl life was much better than being a young widow who should’ve seen it coming. The memory made her sick, especially thinking of it with Roman wrapped around her.

  Fuck. There was too much to think about, and none of it she wanted to remember.

  “So we’re outta here?” he asked.

  “Sounds good.” She nodded. Her lips tingled for wanting to feel his against hers. When he stepped away, she couldn’t stand losing him. Her fingers grabbed his thick arm before she could think better of it.

  Roman looked at her hand then at her. “Don’t tempt me, Beth.”

  None of the reasons to stay away mattered when she needed to forget everything. “But—”

  Roman backed her against the wall, hands crawling up her arms, down her back. His body was too cut, too big. Too much to want to say no to. She arched into him, on him, her body far too stilted.

  His fingers traced her jaw, his lips so close to hers. “You’ve changed your mind?”

  No. Maybe. “Yes.” Thick air filled her lungs, rabid hunger made her lust drunk. The promise of his almost-there kiss teased her without touching. “I changed my mind.”

  He took a step back and bumped his fist against the wall over her shoulder as his head dropped back. “Fuck me.” He took a shaky breath. “You’ve been drinking. Let’s go before I become the asshole prick you think I am.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Roman held Beth under the crook of his arm, guiding her through the parking lot on the way to his truck. She leaned against him, and the woman smelled sweet, which was something that he’d never wanted… until now. That made him smile because she didn’t show a soft side. Sure as hell didn’t own it. The attitude she had could go for days. But underneath her CIA cover, her makeup and fancy-ass dresses, underneath it all was fuckin’ sweetness.

  He didn’t understand their dynamic, the give and take, but he did appreciate a good game. Still… knowing all that, today wasn’t their normal. Last night hadn’t been their normal. And for as much as he wanted her naked, legs spread and waiting, he paused on his asshole tendencies, tried to blame the tequila—knowing that she’d had next to nothing to drink—and decided that whatever was bothering her was his to fix.

  He gave her a squeeze before opening the passenger door and lifting her in. “Twenty minutes to get you home. Might as well fess up.”

  She shrugged and scooted in. “Nothing. Just girly stuff.”

  “Bullshit, gorgeous.” He shut the door and wandered to his side. If he wanted, he could find a few extra minutes, make the drive longer. If she wanted to talk, which wasn’t promising. Roman took his seat, tried again. “Talk, babe.”

  She shook her curly brown hair and played with one soft spiral. She pulled it down, it popped back into shape. That wasn’t how she always did her hair. When she didn’t have her whole act on—the party dresses, freckle-covering makeup, and curls wrangled into a bun—she looked real, like she wouldn’t break.

  “Seriously, Roman. I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, I’m fine. Nothing more than a little drama to figure out with Nic.”

  He shoved the keys into the ignition, shaking his head. “Try again, party girl.”

  Her head snapped to the side. “Gorgeous. Babe. Party girl. That’s not all I am, ya know.”

  But it pretty much described her. “Easy. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

  “My feelings don’t get hurt.”

  Oh yes, they did. On the defensive and in denial. Yeah, he was more curious with each snarky-ass snap. “Something’s up with you.�
�� He pulled out of the parking lot.

  She chewed on her lip then laughed sadly. “How about this? You’re right, but it’s nothing I can share.”

  “Progress,” he grumbled, partly happy he was right, partly bugged she wouldn’t tell. “So work shit?”

  Nodding, Beth stole a glance his way then stared at her hands in her lap. For all the acts that she played, for everything he knew about the real girl and the working girl, Beth wasn’t shy or quiet. He slowed, rolling down the street, and decided to take the long way to her condo.

  “It’s faster to take the interstate.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He pegged the cruise control near the speed limit and ignored his proclivity to floor it.

  “What are you doing, Roman?” Her eyes flicked to him, then away, making unease settle in his mind.

  “Waiting.” The seat belt across his chest pulled too tight, and the tension in the air had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with stress.

  “For?”

  “You to spill.”

  Beth sighed in a wounded-puppy way, and another round of tightness pushed at his nerves. Stress and… what? Sadness?

  “Can I ask you a question and have it just be… a question? Nothing to lecture me over or whatever. I’m just looking for advice or something. You game?”

  He looked at her, chest still tight. Whatever was going to come out of her mouth was going to be problematic. He could feel it. “Yeah.”

  “Have you ever slept with someone for the job?”

  He swerved into another lane. Honks blew around them. What. The. Fuck. His seatbelt had to have crawled up his chest and wrapped around his neck. Because that question wasn’t what he’d expected. Or wanted to hear. The words reverberated in his head, making him jealous and angry and… fuckin’ jealous, ready to kill people.

  “What?” he growled.

  She clutched at the oh-shit bar above her window. “Jeez, dude. I wouldn’t have asked if I thought it’d get us killed.” But then another sad-puppy sigh. “But have you?”

  “Fuck me, Beth. You can’t be seriously asking that.” Palms sweating and white-hot vicious anger pouring through him, his fingers flexed around the steering wheel as Roman forced himself to keep driving. “Cannot be asking.”

  She shrugged. “Okay, so you have.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He nearly spit through his teeth. He wouldn’t answer the question. Hell, he wouldn’t participate in this discussion because no way, no how, would she need an answer or advice on anything like that. Absolutely not. Just fuck no.

  “So you haven’t?”

  “Shit, Beth.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, pinched between his eyes, and went back to his stranglehold on the wheel. “What the actual fuck? That’s the thing you wanted to talk with Nic about? No go, babe.”

  Who did the CIA want her to screw anyway? He shook his head. Nope. Not gonna happen. No way some cartel-leading, terrorist-training, kingpin motherfucker was gonna stick his dick in anything sweet like her. Fuck no.

  “You’re supposed to be my friend, Roman, and I asked you not to lecture me.”

  He worked to slow his jackrabbit heart. “Let’s just back up a second.” Because if she didn’t correct why he thought she was asking, Roman was going to go ballistic. “Why? The Agency asking you to… do that?”

  “Just curious.”

  He slowed for a red light and nailed her with a glance. “Bullshit, Beth. What’s going on?”

  And if she said that she had to for the job, he was going to go rip-shit mad. Screw those Farm boys. He’d tell them for her how it was going to go, and it wouldn’t be her riding anyone’s cock for national fuckin’ security.

  “It’s just work stuff that I have to figure out.” Her hands fidgeted in her lap. “I don’t even know why I asked. Ignore me. I need to talk to your sister, not you.”

  “You asked me because we’re friends.” His teeth sawed silently together.

  “We are?” she asked, pulling at a curl. “We’re kind of like almost friends.”

  “Christ.” Roman growled. “Fucking friends. Yes. Write it down. Remember it. Whatever you have to do.”

  “I don’t know.”

  His eyes were gonna pop out of his damn head. He tried to calm down. “Yes, Beth, we’re friends. No matter this back-and-forth thing we have going on. Alright?”

  She tugged the curl straight and let it pop free. “Alright.”

  The light changed, and he maneuvered through traffic. “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’m not.” Beth let her head fall back against the headrest.

  “At least you’re telling the truth. So try again. Why are you asking about sleeping with someone for the job?”

  “Because I have a job opportunity, but I can’t think of how to accomplish what I need to without, ya know, doing that.”

  It all came out in a blur of words, but he understood each one with crystal clarity. There was a strong chance the steering wheel would crack under his grip. He sawed his jaw back and forth, looking for sage advice but came up with nothing.

  “Don’t do it.” That was all he had. But it was the right answer. “Do not do it.”

  “I—”

  “I’m serious, Beth. Don’t do it. You’re better than that.”

  “You’re taking the long way home.”

  “Yeah, I am. Deal with it. Someone has to talk some sense into you.”

  She didn’t say anything for at least a mile while his anger dropped a couple notches. “How’d you know something was wrong with me tonight?”

  He laughed, shaking his head slowly. Finally, an easy question. “Because I’ve been trying to get you naked for at least a year. And you suddenly just say game on?” He looked over as she bit her lip. “Not that I didn’t want to. I’m going to live to regret walking away.”

  She released her lip, and damn if he didn’t want his mouth on hers.

  “I’m not just a party girl.”

  “I know. CIA isn’t going to hire some bubble-head Barbie.”

  “Barbie’s a blonde.” She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I miss my friend. This would be easier to figure out with her.”

  “Who? Nic?”

  Beth nodded.

  Every red-hot feeling that’d been building in him flatlined and turned into something dark. “I know the feeling. You spent years with her that I never had.”

  “What?” She turned her head, looking up through thick eyelashes. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” He was just angry in general at a situation that never should have happened, and knowing that Beth had had time with Nicola when he hadn’t… well, he didn’t like it.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Just sucks, you know. You’re complaining about not having her at work, or maybe that she’s spending more time with Cash than you. But I lost her for a decade.” He crossed an arm over his chest, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “So I’m not the guy you complain to about a lack of Nicola time. Okay?”

  He was all over the place, going from one extreme to the other. Changing lanes, he glanced at Beth. Her eyes were wide, but she was quiet. Silence was not a Beth-like quality. All because he’d jumped all over her. Nice, dude.

  “Look.” Roman blew out an exasperated breath as he pulled into Beth’s super-deluxe condo high-rise. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I did. But you’re not to blame. No one is. I just… overreact about Nicola sometimes.”

  Beth shrugged. Still silent. Not good. Seconds that stretched for years passed as he moved around a waiting black town car and parked in the horseshoe driveway.

  “Beth…”

  Her head titled when she looked over. “Hmm?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “About the job?” she asked.

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “What I have to, I guess.” Beth opened the door and hopped out. With a quick wave, she mouthed, “Bye,” and left Roman gaping i
n the drive.

  Wrong. Answer.

  All over again, red rage boiled violently in his veins. No way. No fucking way was Beth spreading her legs. He threw the truck in park and jumped out. “Beth.”

  Already halfway through the glass doors, surprise marred her face as he stormed up. “What?”

  “No.”

  “Roman, seriously.” She looked around, backing into the lobby with him following close. “We really can’t talk about this.”

  National security issues be damned, he grabbed her arm. “And you really can’t do that.” They were so close he could smell her shampoo and a hint of tequila. It made him growl. “I don’t want you to. Me. I don’t want you making a move like that.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Don’t say that.”

  In the middle of a deserted high-rise lobby, he ran a hand around her back, pulling in, her chest against his. He cupped her chin, thumb caressing her cheek.

  “Please…” Her heavy eyelids drifted shut, and her lips parted. “Don’t do that, Roman. Please.”

  “Why the fuck would I want to stop?” Her skin was silky smooth, perfect.

  Eyes still closed, she offered no argument. Just a silent go-ahead with her lips parting farther. There was a reason he’d said no to her earlier. There was, but he couldn’t remember it.

  “Roman…” She clung to his shirt, fingers biting into his chest, sighing as his mouth lowered to hers. Such sweet lips, the softness of them was shocking as she melted in his arms, and a hunger that he hadn’t expected came to life, from both of them.

  His tongue chased hers, his mouth devouring every kiss. Her arms locked around his neck, and the curve of her full breasts pushed against him. Everything that he thought kissing her could be was a waste of a dream. Because kissing this woman was perfect fucking temptation.

  “Wait.” Beth tore out of his arms, pushing back. Surprise and want painted her face a sexy shade of blush. Lips kiss swollen, she looked like his fantasy. “I’m…” Her fingers pressed against her lips. “I have to…”

  He said the only thing he could think of besides give me your mouth. “Don’t sleep with someone for the job.” He shook his head. “Just don’t.”