by Cynthia Eden
Her breath heaved out.
“I didn’t know that Dex had shown up for me.” Roman’s voice was low. “They tortured me. The hours bled together, and all I knew was that no one would come for me. I’d been betrayed by the one friend I thought I had.”
She hurried toward him and ignored the flickering flames in the fire. Her hand reached out and curled around his shoulder. “You are not alone, Roman.”
He stiffened beneath her touch. “I don’t deserve you.”
If possible, his words had been even lower. Even rougher. She wasn’t sure—had she even heard him correctly? “Roman?”
He turned toward her. “I don’t,” he rumbled. “But how the hell am I supposed to let you go?”
“I am not going anywhere. We are in this together.” Why couldn’t he get that?
His expression was fierce. So much longing filled his gaze.
“Ahem.” Antony had crept closer. “I’ll speed up the recap, how about that?”
She did not take her eyes off Roman.
“Roman parted ways with the agency after that. Went, um—”
“Rogue,” Roman said flatly.
“Yes, went that. Caused lots of international drama. Made more enemies. But, also, I think…covertly did some good.”
Roman’s head whipped toward Antony. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Oh, what?” Antony straightened his shoulders. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about that stuff? Tech is my world. I tracked the donations you made. The medical supply drops. The relief packages. Guess you were trying to buy yourself some forgiveness? Is that the way it worked in your—”
“I can break your entire face in five seconds flat.”
Antony blinked. “Maybe, but that’s not the kind of shit good guys do, am I right?”
“Never said I was good.”
“But I don’t buy all the hype about you being bad, either. Figure a lot of that was just flash for show. You had to have some nice window dressing or else who would believe the cover you were pushing?” Antony’s head tilted. “How many syndicates have you shut down? How many targets did you take out of commission once you went freelance? And isn’t that really the reason you have a target on your back? You destroyed them, and now one of your enemies—someone who was left in the ashes you left behind—that person wants to destroy you.”
Roman’s nostrils flared. “You talk too much.”
“I was just updating the lady. And I’m done talking now. Unless, of course…” He shrugged. “There’s more you want me to reveal to her? I could go on—”
“Why don’t you go and get the hell out of here for now?” Roman’s order was curt. Hard. “We need to crash. I’ll connect with you tomorrow.”
Antony saluted. “Will do. Wanted to go take a look at the limo’s remains anyway. And, I am supposed to be in town looking at real estate for a second Shark Gaming location. So…I have lots to do. Don’t worry about me.” He turned on his heel. Headed for the door. “I can stay busy.”
“Fabulous,” Roman said.
They didn’t speak again, not until Antony was gone. Harper rocked onto the balls of her feet and made sure her gaze didn’t drift to the flickering flames. “Roman…”
He eased away from her. “You have to be exhausted. There are plenty of bedrooms. Choose whichever one you want.”
She’d already chosen the room when she changed. “I’m sorry.”
His head whipped toward her. “What?”
“I’m so sorry for what you went through when you were captured. It must have been hell.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as Roman swallowed. “Doesn’t matter now. That’s all over.”
“I’m still sorry for you pain, and if you want to talk, I’m here.”
He whirled away. “Talk. Yeah, pretty sure there’s been enough of the whole talk thing for tonight.”
She wanted to reach for him again, but each time she reached out, Harper felt as if he pulled away. She was missing something. “Is there more?”
His broad shoulders stiffened. “More?”
“You seem different. Like something happened. Like…” Her voice trailed away before she said…Like you’re trying to put walls between us.
He strode toward the desk. “Oh, a few things happened. You were in the car that exploded right in front of me. I thought I was watching while you died. You know, because of me. Because I foolishly thought I could bury the past, but there are some bodies that crawl back out of the ground no matter what you do.”
She didn’t move. Her feet now felt rooted to the spot. “You didn’t make the limo catch on fire, Roman.”
His eyes glittered. “What if you hadn’t gotten in the front?”
“I don’t like the ‘what if’ game.”
“Too damn bad because—”
“I played it too much when I was a kid. What if my parents had wanted me? What if they hadn’t given me up? What if I had a real family? What if, what if…” She blew out a hard breath. “What ifs don’t change anything. They just twist you up and make you doubt what you do have. Make you wish or worry. I stopped playing with them long ago. I just focus on what is. Not what if. Life is better that way.”
His hands fisted.
“I can tell you what is, if you’d like.”
He didn’t speak. Typical Roman.
“I’m alive. You’re alive. The attackers missed us both, and we’re going to come back at them harder and stronger. That’s what is happening. I’m here with you. We’re safe. Another what is. Those are the things that matter. I have you, and you have me.” Her chin lifted. “And it’s not your fault. I’m a Wilde agent. Because of my job, I take risks. I understand danger. If I wasn’t prepared for a threat, I would have finished my art studies degree years ago, and I’d be spending my days blissfully painting.”
He shook his head. “What?”
“Painting. I’m quite good, actually. Never even realized I had talent for it until I was working as a model for an artist.” She was rambling. Distracting him a little. No, no, that wasn’t what she was doing. She was trying to be fair to him. His past had just been laid bare before her. Wasn’t it only fair that he deserved her secrets, too? “When I was eighteen, I took my life savings, and I boarded a plane. I flew to Europe. I had found out that my father died there, you see. Before I was born. I had this crazy idea about meeting his family. Figured…he didn’t give me up. He didn’t have a choice, you know? He died. My mother—she was the one who left me at the hospital.” By the time Harper had found out about her mother’s identity, she’d been dead, too.
“Harper…” Roman took a halting step toward her.
“My life savings turned out to only be enough to get me to Europe. I landed in Paris and had to figure out how to earn enough money to survive.” She wrinkled her nose. “This probably seems insane to you. That I just rushed off that way. But there was nothing for me here, so I just…I went.” Her lips pressed together. “There are lots of affordable youth hostels near Paris. I stayed at some of those. Found out that one of the museums paid money for models. So I just—I went to see what that was about. Turns out, I could sit still for hours and be a pretty good model.” It had been oddly peaceful. “I met this great lady. Marguerite Valeux. She was doing a sketch one day, and she asked if I wanted to go from being the model to becoming the artist. And the next thing I knew…” Harper laughed. It was a happy memory. “She was teaching me everything she knew. And I loved painting and it was wonderful, and Marguerite was almost like the grandmother I’d never had and…” She stopped.
“What is it?”
An exhale. Get attached to things, not people. “She was sick. I didn’t know. She didn’t want anyone to know. I went in to check on her one day, and she was gone.” The pain flashed inside of her. “But she told her nephew about me. He was the race car driver. I think I told you about him before? He took me under his wing.” Another faint laugh. “I became the driver for a driver. During that time, I realized that
I liked to learn new things. I’d never had the opportunity before. Never been encouraged. This was different. There was no stopping me. So I learned everything that I could.”
“Did you learn about your father?”
She rubbed her finger across her right cheek. Strange. It felt wet. “There was nothing to learn. Despite my efforts, I couldn’t find a record of his family. I located his grave. Nothing more. It was like—like he didn’t have a past. Like I didn’t have one.” Her lips curled down. “I realized then that the past can’t matter. What happened before—you have to let it go.”
“If only it were that fucking easy,” he muttered.
Her spine stiffened. “I never said it was easy. I said you can’t let it matter. You can’t let it hold you back from taking what you want.”
His gaze seemed to burn with intensity as it locked on her.
“The past doesn’t define us,” Harper continued somewhat unsteadily. There was just something about the way he was staring at her. Need. Desperation. Hope? She took a careful step toward him. “We define ourselves.”
He closed the distance between them. Reached out for her, but stopped. His hands hung in the air between them. “Do you really believe that?”
“Would I say it if it wasn’t true?”
His hands fell to his sides. “People say a lot of shit. It’s easy to say stuff, but when you get the cold, hard facts in front of you, things are different.”
“I’m saying what I mean. I don’t care about the past. I care about the here and the now.” I care about you. Far more than she had expected.
His eyelids flickered. “I…I care about you.”
Harper’s breath caught. It was as if he’d just read her mind. “Then—”
“That’s not a good thing, baby. It’s a very dangerous thing, or haven’t you realized that yet? There have been two attacks on you so far. Three, if you count just how close you were to me when the bullet was fired at that godforsaken cabin. By being near me, you are in harm’s way. That’s not what I want for you.”
“What do you want?”
His hand lifted. Trailed over her cheek. “For you to smile when you see me. For you to light up the whole damn room because you’re so happy. I want you to be happy every day of your life.” His hand pulled away. “But if you’re with me, that won’t happen.”
“You act like I can’t handle danger. We’ve covered this.” Determination hardened her voice. “Wilde agent, remember? Death and danger are part of the package deal there.”
“You should get some rest. You have to be exhausted.”
“No more so than you.”
“I didn’t crawl out of a burning car.”
She shrugged.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” His voice was rough. “And I will never deserve you.”
“Well, sure, probably not.” She’d forced her own tone to be lighter. She wanted to chase the shadows from his gaze. “But you can try. You can just turn everything around right now. You have this obsession with the past. I say it doesn’t matter. I say the here and now matters. But if you want to prove that you deserve me, fine. You can do it.” She put her hands on his chest. Leaned onto her toes. “Want to know how?”
“Yes.” Ragged. Desperate.
“Be a good man. Do what’s right.”
“I’m trying…”
“And don’t hold back with me. Never hold back with me. Because I want you, Roman. This thing between us? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. It’s kind of ripping me apart inside and putting me back together in a whole new way.” That probably made zero sense. “You want to deserve me? Put me first. I’ll put you first. Let’s take care of each other. Let’s trust each other.” Because she hadn’t trusted him at the beginning.
It wasn’t the beginning any longer.
She waited. She wanted his response. She needed him to—
“I can’t give you what you need.” Pain knifed through his words. “I am so sorry.”
The same pain seemed to slice into her heart. Don’t get attached to—
Forget it. Too late. She was already attached to Roman.
Harper kissed him. Pressed her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss.
Tension hardened his entire body.
“I think you can,” she whispered against his mouth. “Turns out, I have some faith in you.” Then she slipped away. She’d done her part. The rest—well, the rest would come. Harper turned from him and headed for the door.
“Harper!”
Her steps faltered. Did he even realize how much emotion was in his voice? She glanced back at him. Saw the torment on his face. Poor baby. He was stumbling around, and he had no clue how to deal with the way he felt.
She’d help him. “Yes?”
“Where are you going?”
“To bed. You’re right. I am exhausted.”
A jerky nod. “You…you said you picked a room already?”
“Yes, I did.” Her gaze savored him a moment more. “Sweet dreams, Roman.”
He swallowed. “Sweet dreams, Harper.”
***
Roman’s steps were slow as he made his way to his bedroom. All he wanted to do was go to Harper. To hold her, to—
Antony is right. She’ll run from me. When she learned what his father had done, Harper wouldn’t smile when she saw him. That gorgeous smile of hers wouldn’t light up a room. Instead, he’d see fear on her face. Anger. Hate?
Roman didn’t want that. Even from the grave, his father was reaching out to destroy him. To destroy the most precious thing that Roman had ever treasured. Harper.
His hand curled around the doorknob. He wondered which room Harper had taken. The whole house was secure, so he didn’t have to go and bunk with her like he’d done in the mountains. But…
He wanted to. He wanted to find her. To slip into bed with her. To pull Harper in his arms and hold her tight.
The fucking limo exploded.
He shoved open the door. Growled with rage as he stomped inside and—
“Jeez, you could wake the dead,” Harper called out sleepily.
Roman froze. “You’re…in my room.”
“Yes, very observant.”
He staggered forward. Turned on the lamp on the nightstand. Soft light immediately formed a small glow around them. “You’re in my bed.”
“Again, your observational skills are top notch. No wonder you’re on track to be a lead Wilde agent.”
“Why are you in my bed?”
She brushed back a lock of hair as she rolled toward him. “Because you said I could pick my room. And I did.”
“This is my room.”
“And I want to be with you. So I picked this room.”
He realized she was holding a little too tightly to the covers.
“Unless…” Her voice shook the smallest bit. “Unless you don’t want me here.”
She was afraid.
Harper sat up. Stared at him with the amazing eyes that he’d never forget. “If you don’t want me,” her chin lifted, “I can certainly find another bed.”
His breath was coming too fast. Too hard.
Her shoulders squared, and Harper reached out to him. She caught his hand in hers. “I can leave. I can—”
“Don’t run.” Ragged.
“Um, I was going to walk. With dignity and grace and perfect poise.” She bit her lip. “Not run. Why would I run from you?”
“Don’t leave.” Shit, he was barely managing to speak. Emotions were choking him. He’d never had to deal with this mess until he met her.
Her hold tightened. “I won’t go anywhere.”
That was it. There was no more control. She was touching him, staring up at him so tenderly. She was in his bed. And he wanted her.
Let her go? How the fuck was he supposed to do that?
His mouth took hers with a ravenous need. So much for his good intentions. But as he’d tried to warn Harper, he’d never been particularly good, anyway.
; Chapter Thirteen
He was kissing her like he a man possessed. With so much need and raw desire. And she loved it. A moan built in Harper’s throat. Both of her hands curled around him, and she yanked Roman down onto the bed with her.
Her heart raced in her chest as her body squirmed beneath his. The adrenaline rush from the explosion still had her feeling shaky and revved up, and his kiss? Oh, it was revving her up even more.
When she’d crawled into bed, she’d made sure to only be wearing his shirt. No underwear. Now she wanted to yank the shirt out of the way and strip him, too.
Would the sex be as good this time? She had the feeling it would be even better.
“Need to go slow…” He tore his mouth from hers and kissed a fiery path down her neck. “Need to be careful with you.”
Harper arched her neck toward his mouth. “I think…” Her nails bit into his shoulders. “You meant to say…you need me desperately. You want to take me right, ah, now.” Her breath hitched when he licked a particularly sensitive spot. “And if you have to wait, you just might go insane.”
His body stiffened. His head rose. His glittering eyes captured hers. “I need you desperately.”
She could feel that need. Long and thick and hard and shoving against his jeans. Shoving between her spread thighs.
“I want to take you right now.”
Her hips pushed against him. A nice, what-are-you-waiting-for move.
“If I have to wait…” His voice was guttural and deep and sexy as hell. “I will lose my mind.”
Perfect. “Get out of those clothes.”
They both started yanking and shoving and soon he was naked. But their bodies had twisted, and she wound up on top of him, a position that worked out perfectly for Harper. She pushed him back and straddled his hips. Her sex slid over his cock.
“Fuck.” His nostrils flared. “You don’t have on underwear.”
“Good of you to notice.”
“Did you…” His teeth clenched—she’d just done another sensual glide, and Harper was glad he appreciated her skill. His voice was more growl than anything else as he gritted, “Did you…were you wearing panties when you were downstairs and Antony was there? Dammit, tell me that you were wearing—”