Hart Attack

by Cristin Harber

  Her cheeks went red hot. “Something like that.”

  “Guess you’re not looking for these?”

  She peeked over, and her car keys dangled in his hand. Shit. Slowly, she shoved everything back into her purse and trudged back toward him. “Yes. Those are mine.”

  He held them out, and as she reached for them, he grabbed her hand, not releasing the keys. “Did you sleep with Naydenov?”

  “What?” Indignation rose.

  “You heard me.”

  “No. I didn’t sleep with him, not that it’s any of your damn business.” She tugged her hand back but he didn’t let go. “Don’t be an ass.”

  “Why not?”

  “Seriously, Roman.”

  “’Cause you can’t come? That’s your—”

  “No, you stubborn jerk. If I had slept with him, I would’ve faked it. God!” She growled at him. “And I wouldn’t have to humiliate myself and dredge up the hell of bad memories.” She used her free hand and poked him in the chest. “So if you’d give me my damn arm and my keys, I can leave.”

  He let go, and she stumbled back.

  “Why the bad memories?”

  “Go to hell.” She ignored him, rushing back to her car.

  Footsteps followed. “Why not fake it ten minutes ago?”

  That stopped her in place. Slowly, she turned, glaring at him. “I changed my mind. I do hate you.”

  He stepped closer, arms still crossed, and had the audacity to glare back. “Get back inside, Beth.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Stop trying to be such a challenge.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m doing. I’m trying to challenge you.” She should’ve run to her car, but she couldn’t move. This was the worst escape ever, like a walk of shame times a thousand.

  He continued walking in the most smoldering, deliberating way possible. “You’re confusing.”

  “Nope.” Her voice wavered.

  When he was a foot away, he finally uncrossed his arms and let the glare soften. “And you’re the most goddamn gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Her stomach flipped, and her bottom lip quivered, and she hated that. Rushing sadness overpowered her. “Please don’t say that.”

  “How long have you known me now? A year? Two? You think I’m letting you off the hook that easy?”

  She couldn’t speak.

  “Guess the better question is, do you want me to?”

  “To what?” she whispered.

  “Let you leave.”

  Yes! But really no, because she wanted his arms holding her until she couldn’t remember the past. Beth shook her head. “No.”

  “Good.” He wrapped her to him then ran his hands into her hair.

  “So I won’t leave.”

  His hands fell away, and he took her hand in his, turning them back toward his front door. But it wasn’t that easy. She couldn’t get past all of… this without laying out what was on her mind. “Wait—”

  His grip tightened. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Before—”

  “Certainly not going to happen in my front yard.”

  “I can’t go inside there.”

  “Fuck. I don’t want to hear about anything before. Before what, I don’t know. I—it’s selfish. I get that. But you’re going to tell me a reason that we can’t… whatever, and I’m a selfish, fuckin’ prick that doesn’t want to hear it.”

  “Then just know why.”

  He turned from her, scrubbing a hand into his hair. “Seriously, Beth.”

  “I’m begging you. If I can’t say what I need to say, we’ll agree to forget today.”

  He paced, eyebrows pinched. “Fine.”

  Relief and unease battled for top contention. “Fine? Okay…” She wouldn’t have thought it was in him to agree.

  “Inside you go.” Roman scooped her up and carried her across the threshold. Once the door was kicked shut and they were in the middle of his living room, he set her down. “Say whatever you have to say.”

  “I was married.”

  Surprise washed across his face. “Alright.”

  “But he died.” God, how long had it been since she’d said that out loud? Years. And even then, it’d only been to Nicola when Beth had strayed from her promise to ignore the hole Logan left in her heart.

  “Died…” Roman’s jaw worked back and forth. “M-kay.”

  Died… she could hear the spinning rope in her head and tried to block it out. Tried, failed. Tried again and gave up. So she sucked a deep breath.

  “Yes, he died, and I died right along with him. Inside… I turned to stone, just became gray, until I decided to close that chapter of my life and move forward, focusing on work.”

  His head tilted. “I had something similar to that, as you know.”

  Nicola. She bit her lip. “Working at the CIA was the only thing I’d ever done, and it was perfect. You know my cover. Party, have a good time… fake it all.”

  His hand rubbed his bicep. “Okay.”

  “But you.” She shook her head. “You fucking jerk.” Saying that made her laugh quietly. “You pop up, looking how you look, acting like the world is your flippin’ oyster or whatever. I met you once, and it was fun. Met you twice, and I realized I wasn’t pretending to have a blast when you were around. And the third time, it became crystal clear. When you were near, I felt different, and earlier, when we were… I guess I’m not as dead inside as I thought.” She looked down, biting her lip. “So that’s the gist.”

  Roman ran his hand through his hair then shoved both into his pockets. “Look, I’m a bastard. You know that.”

  She shrugged.

  “If you want to leave, I get it.”

  Beth twisted a curl around her finger, unsure if he even wanted her to stay after her morbid, mortifying confession. The guy wanted fun and easy, and she personified complicated.

  “Is that what you want?” she whispered.

  “Hell no,” he answered quickly, lust burning dark in his eyes. His voice was lower than it had been, rough, scratchy sounding, making her tummy flip. He stepped closer, fingers on her chin, tilting her face up to him. “But what do you want?”

  There were so many things she wanted from him. The shocking realization was simple. She wanted him, in any way he’d offer. If the only way was in bed, she’d take it. To hell with the heartbreak that was a given.

  Beth swallowed past the terrified lump in her throat. “I want to finish what we started.”

  He leaned down, his lips brushing her cheek, softly teasing her ear. They dropped below the lobe, pressing against a sensitive spot. It wasn’t a kiss, but it made every nerve fire to life, giving her weak legs. His hands worked up her arms, sinful and slow. Cascades of goose bumps rolled down her back. She looked up as she shivered, seeing trust that she hadn’t asked for but craved.

  She lifted her arms above her head, and Roman slipped her shirt away before she let her hands drift into his thick hair. He walked them backward, retracing their steps upstairs to his bedroom, and her heart slammed in her chest.

  Still, he hadn’t kissed her. He just stared down, backing up until they met the bed. Roman found her pants zipper, slid it down, and took them off with her panties, then her shoes. His fingers ran up her legs, her hips, inching along her spine to the clasp of her bra. A quick snap, and he had it off, leaving her naked under his scrutiny.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “There’s no other way to look at you. You’re the definition of beauty.”

  “Oh.” Heat rose up her neck.

  He chuckled. “Oh?”

  She couldn’t remember ever feeling like she was about to be ravished. “You look predatory, Roman.”

  “Exactly.” Hooking his arms under hers, he crawled onto the bed, taking her with him. He placed her within reach, tore off his shirt, then went back to work, drawing circles around her belly button.

  “We should just, ya know.” Beth shifted. “Get b
ack to it.”

  “I will.” Slowly, he traced her collarbone. “All you have to do is relax.”

  “I’m relaxed.”

  His mouth found her shoulder, biting, sucking, licking. “Relax more.”

  “I don’t think relaxing will help with my end goal.”

  His hand fell between her legs, and she moaned. “Why don’t you let me be in charge of that, pretty girl?”

  She nodded. “Okay. You win.”

  “Thought so,” he said as he stroked her.

  As though he’d memorized his moves from before then upped the ante, Roman made her world spin. Every touch, whispering what she did to him… she was at his mercy.

  “Pretty girl.” Two thick fingers entered her. “Pretty everywhere.”

  She had no words. Lying on his side, Roman speared her again. Her hips pushed off the bed, and her body angled to take more of him deeper inside her.

  “Tight.”

  She tossed her head.

  “Mine,” he continued.

  His.

  “You think you want this, sweetheart?”

  Focusing on anything but him was impossible. Roman towered over her, breathing hard, making her die to come.

  “My girl… I want to see it, feel it.”

  His girl? She moaned in agreement.

  “I want you knowing that only I can make this happen.”

  Screw him for saying the goddamn truth. But he was right. So very right…

  The build was coming, tightening, making her ready, and like an explosion lit, she detonated, bucking and throwing her head back, crying for more. Crying for him.

  “Goddamn, beautiful,” he growled into her ear, hand still working, slowing, between her legs.

  God, she came. She had an orgasm after years—years—of not. “Roman…”

  Eyes watering, she pictured his face and couldn’t believe it. Then she could, because Roman was the only one who could do that for her. That she knew.

  And as fast and hard as she had come, she went limp in sated shock, arms splayed loosely. Her cheeks and neck were hot. Blood thundered in her veins, deep within her. She absorbed the tsunami that overtook her body and found a Zen peace that had unexpectedly arrived.

  Roman pulled her close. “You never do what I think you will.”

  Finally, she opened her eyes wide. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, well.” He lay down next to her, their cheeks both on the mattress and their eyes locked.

  She didn’t blink. He didn’t either.

  Neither moved until she crawled into his arms and kissed him. “I can’t imagine ever having enough of you.”

  He groaned into their kiss, his jeans-covered erection thick and hard between them. Her body ached all over again, and her imagination did an amazingly good job of anticipating how it would feel to have him thrust inside her.

  Roman was a brick wall of warmth, and she clung to him as he moved against the headboard, pulling her to straddle his lap.

  “You survive?” He messed with her hair.

  “There’s nothing I can’t survive.” Except maybe you.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  From far away, down the hall and in his living room, Beth’s phone rang, stealing her attention from Roman and her acceptance that surviving him was impossible, as was walking away.

  He angled toward the door. “It’s done that a few times.”

  Her phone had been ringing, and she hadn’t heard it? A true testament to how under the influence of Roman she was. She hadn’t heard anything except for the dirty awesomeness of his words.

  “Shit, sounds like work…”

  “Stay here.” He hopped up, tucked her in, then left her alone to drown in thick sheets that smelled like man and sex.

  She burrowed into the pillow, and his scent rushed over her, making her imagine falling asleep against his chest, listening to his heart, and feeling the weight of his arms holding her naked body to his. She sighed. Even if he broke her heart later, at least she would’ve earned a nice consolation prize.

  Roman padded back into the room, jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips. “Getting comfy?”

  “Don’t judge. You have surprisingly soft sheets.”

  He laughed. “Pretty decent pillows, too. When I’m home, it’s nice to sleep like that.”

  “Versus?”

  “Sleeping wherever and whenever I can find a couple minutes on the job.”

  Logan used to say things like that. He used to sleep in ditches he dug in the desert or under the protective barrier of a mountain boulder. Roman and Logan had a scary amount of similarities. Army. Operatives. Killers in bed who made her heart swell.

  She closed her eyes, burying her head into the pillow. Why did she have to compare the two men? They were different. She was different.

  Roman sat on the bed. “One big-ass bag that won’t stop ringing.”

  She opened her eyes, forcing a smile, and pretended Logan hadn’t tried for headspace while she daydreamed about Roman. “Thanks.”

  “I can tell the difference.”

  “Hmm?” She dug through her purse until she found her cell, phony grin still in place.

  “Fake cheesin’ it won’t fool me, pretty girl.”

  Busted! Her stomach jumped. “I—”

  “You probably have a lot on your mind.” His eyes roamed her body. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”

  She tried for a strong coating of fake confidence. “Good, because I’m not finished with you, either.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Good news, Miss Tourne. I found my decoder ring. This happy-go-lucky smile you’ve got going on? And the you’re-going-to-screw-me attitude? I’m starting to figure out what’s for show and what’s for Beth.”

  As high as her stomach had jumped, it free fell down to the ground. Pride kept her from agreeing. Stubbornness kept her from refusing. Instead, she scrolled through her phone, checking the missed call. Gregori Naydenov. She held up her phone, wiggling it back and forth. “Work.”

  “Work?”

  “Gregori Naydenov.”

  “Ah, that guy.” Roman scowled. “Ditch him. Stay here.”

  “Done.”

  He chuckled, lying back on the bed. “That was easy. Too easy.”

  “You know I can’t.” But it’d be nice if life were sweet and carefree like bubblegum and cotton candy. “Are you going to be all moody every time his name comes up?”

  “Yup.”

  “Prepare yourself, big boy.” She shifted in the covers, burrowing closer to the mountain of Roman. “If all goes according to plan, I’m traveling with him in about a week.”

  “I hate that dude.”

  “He’s an oddball, that’s for sure.”

  “That’s all? An oddball? Dude washes money for terrorists.”

  “I wasn’t trying to absolve him of his sins. Just saying he’s not a normal mark.”

  Roman grumbled. “Where you going?”

  “Abu Dhabi.”

  He turned to her, brow pinched and eyes shooting angry daggers. “The fuck you say?”

  “Oh, don’t tell me you have a problem with that.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Why?”

  “I hate when Nicola takes the garbage out after dark. You think I won’t have a problem with you heading to the fuckin’ UAE?”

  “There are worse locations to go.”

  “And much, much better ones.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Beth, I don’t care if you wear a Kevlar-covered burka—”

  “Come on, I know you’re super overprotective. I’ve known that about you since before I met you.”

  He grumbled, easing an inch back. “Lotta good that ever did me.”

  “See. Right there. Don’t be like that.”

  He lounged back, tucking his hands behind his head and making his chest widen, if that was possible. “Answer me this, Beth.”

  She laid her head on his che
st and trailed her fingers over his smooth stomach. “Okay.”

  “All this hard-to-get act, it was over a memory?”

  Her fingers froze mid-caress. “Yes.”

  “I’ve seen you date other guys.”

  God, but Roman was different. Didn’t he know that? He’d been different for so long, and that was what messed with her head. But telling him that was a no-go because his Titan-sized ego would inflate even more. “You have.”

  “And you haven’t…”

  “Jeez, Roman. Personal boundaries.”

  “You’re naked in my bed. We’re past personal boundaries. Plus, I’m curious.”

  “You’re looking for a trophy is what you are.”

  “Am I really that much of a dick to you?”

  She bit her lip. “No. Defense mechanism. Sorry.”

  “So? What’s different?”

  “So… I feel something inside when you look at me. And I hate it. Except… I don’t.”

  Roman studied her, and with each passing second, her lungs tightened. He took one big arm and wrapped it around her. “I’m sorry you were hurt. Life never goes the way you think it should.”

  She nodded, buried in his heavy hug. “Life just… happens.”

  “But for someone who smiles at it the way you do, I don’t know… it seems wrong.”

  “Felt wrong.” She pressed against Roman. The memory of her husband didn’t make her sad or angry. But the guilt was still there. “There’s more.”

  Roman remained silent, but his other arm wrapped around her so that he bear-hugged her to his chest. “Alright, more. Tell me.”

  “He killed himself, and I should’ve seen it coming.” Tears wanted to fall, but she wasn’t about to cry over Logan while Roman held her.

  His fingers stroked her hair. “Oh, pretty girl. Those things aren’t predictable.”

  “He went overseas and came back a different person.”

  Roman hummed. “Army?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “You seem like an Army girl.”

  A quiet laugh escaped her lips without her permission. “You were Army.”

  “Hooah.” But his voice was low, and his chest rumbled against her ear.

  Repositioning his arm, he loosened his hold, and she set her chin on his chest. “All the signs were there. I just didn’t see them.”

  “How’d he do it?”