“Thanks. It’s kind of a mess.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
“It’s beautiful. Just like you.”
Diha ducked her head, but he saw the smile.
In the light like this, could he see her blush?
“The next time I’m inside you, I want your hair down,” he said.
Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. “Next time?”
He rubbed some strands between his fingers. “Oh, baby, you’re stuck with me now.”
Diha opened and closed her mouth. Her cheeks were definitely pink.
“Or are you a love’em and leave’em girl?” He highly doubted that. She didn’t seem like the type.
“No,” she said quickly. “I just, I mean, I didn’t assume...”
He curled his fingers in her hair, using it to lift her face.
Miles leaned into her, letting her feel his hardening erection. She gasped and he kissed her, swallowing the sound.
They had a job to do. A very serious one that needed their attention. But that was for tomorrow.
He lifted his face and looked down at Diha. She was clinging to him now, her eyes dark with lust again.
She wasn’t done with him either.
Good.
“You finished?” he asked.
“No.” Her arms around him tightened.
He chuckled. “I meant in here.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“Good.”
Miles wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted, giving her no option but to wrap her legs around him. He carried her back into the little blue room and this time he pulled the comforter down before laying her there. She watched him turn off the lights and when he slid in beside her under the blankets, she didn’t protest.
“Sleep,” he whispered into her ear.
“You really think that’s possible right now?” She shifted, her hips pressing against his cock. He doubted it was intentional.
He splayed his hand against her stomach, pressing her to him. “Don’t tempt me.”
She sighed, and despite her question ten minutes later she was out and he had a hard-on.
10.
Wednesday. Basement Crash Pad. Brighton, United Kingdom.
Valentino aimed the gun at the door to the basement apartment.
She couldn’t believe him.
How could Viggo be so stupid? And why hadn’t she noticed he wasn’t in the damn shower?
The lock scraped and the deadbolt thunked back. She stared down the sights of the handgun as the door swung open.
Viggo took one step, then froze.
His gaze went from her to the gun and back. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her.
He was a big man. She could still remember the day he’d shuffled into their foster home clutching a trash bag full of his worldly possessions. Her gut had said to stay away from him, and she had. Right up until she’d saved her from the routine ass kicking she got once a week on the walk home.
Viggo was the only person who’d ever had her back. He wore the evidence on his face in an eight inch scar that went from his hairline down his neck.
She’d thought he was going to die that day.
No more hulking shadow there to hand her coffee when she needed it. No one to caution her or talk her off the ledge when she was convinced the shadows might attack them.
He’d never stopped taking care of her.
Even tonight, that was what he’d been trying to do.
“God damn you,” she snarled and lowered the gun to her side. “What were you thinking?”
He shut and locked the door behind him, but never took his eye off her. To be fair, she had shot him twice before.
“I was thinking that if you’re worried something needs to be done.” He pulled two drives from his pocket and held them out to her.
Valentino frowned at the two hunks of scrap. “Where’s the third?”
“Third?” Viggo’s brows drew down.
“Yeah, she took three from the crash pad.”
“There were only two,” he said slowly.
“Shit,” Valentino spat.
Think. She had to think.
Any one part of the current situation was bad.
An assassin was bad, but she could deal with it.
Cops on her trail was bad, but she’d gotten away from those types before.
She’d never had her crash pad found while she was still staying in it, that was new, but she could have figured it out.
There was too much going on. Too many variables.
She’d hoped that by eliminating the team watching her, she’d have stalled the investigation long enough to clear out quietly and lose their assassin. That was when she’d thought it was just dumb luck that they’d been located. That was before she’d watched that woman.
“Did you at least get pictures?” Valentino asked.
“No.”
“What?” She gaped at him.
“I thought it would be quick,” he said.
“Oh, my God. Viggo... Oh, my God.”
This was a disaster.
“It’s a white man. The woman is Indian, I think.”
She whirled to face him. “You think? Viggo, I can’t do anything with your thoughts. They don’t help, so stop thinking. God.”
They needed to move.
Again.
She chewed on her bottom lip.
Their funds were tied up at the moment. She always dribbled payments through various bank accounts to be safe. Picking up and running took cash she didn’t have in her hands. Not to mention if their assassin was out there, he’d probably followed the whole drama straight to them.
“Get your stuff, we’re getting out of here,” she announced to the room.
“But—”
“Don’t speak to me,” she shouted without looking at Viggo. “This is your fault.”
THURSDAY. MI5 SAFE House. Brighton, United Kingdom.
Diha smoothed her hand over the braid hanging over her shoulder. Normally she just braided it and left it, but today she couldn’t get it right. This was the third time she’d braided it again, and she still wasn’t happy.
Her gaze flicked to the mirror.
She hadn’t been able to look at herself without memories from last night assaulting her.
Even now she could picture that moment when Miles had leaned into her and she’d felt him growing hard all over again. She swallowed and fanned her face.
Maybe she should have foregone makeup today, but she hadn’t wanted to. Granted, it didn’t transform her, but she felt a little bit more prepared to deal with Miles wearing eyeliner and bronzer.
Her.
Deal with him.
That was a joke.
She was in over her head and knew she was in trouble. There was nothing she could do about it.
When she’d set out on this trip, all she’d wanted was to be noticed. That was it. That was what she’d prepared herself for. Everything since that first moment she’d locked eyes with Miles and wanted the ground to swallow her up had been out of her control.
Last night had been amazing. She’d let go of her nerves and lived in the moment, but she couldn’t do that now. Not today. In the light of day, reality was sinking in.
Miles was an amazing man, but she knew how the secret agent types could be. She worked with them every day. Ten minutes in Miles’ presence and she knew the most important thing in his life was work. There was no room for someone like her. That wasn’t how he was built. So she couldn’t read more into this. She had to accept and expect that while they’d enjoyed passion in bed, it wasn’t something she should plan on. She shouldn’t expect him to want the same things as her.
Diha loved her job, but she was also old enough to want more. She wasn’t going to live with her parents forever. Eventually she wanted to move out, and maybe in with someone she hoped to share a future together with. Miles wasn’t going to leave what he’d built for her, and right now her life was very much in DC.
“Get over yourself,” she muttered at her reflection.
Nothing was really going to change, and she needed to hold on to that reality.
Her braid was fine.
The make-up was as good as she’d ever done it.
And if she were brutally honest with herself, she was hiding in the bathroom.
She grabbed her few things and opened the bathroom door.
The smell of food wafted up to her and her stomach growled.
The man cooked?
She darted into the bedroom and threw the last of her things into the suitcase. It was a shame she hadn’t packed more casual outfits, but when she’d laid everything out for this trip, she’d wanted to wear her favorites. Like today’s kurta. It was a stylized shirt dress that fell to just below her knees with lapels, breast pockets and shirt cuffs in white with a purple diamond pattern. She’d opted to pair it with ankle length jeans to at least dress it down a bit, but also because the side splits came clean up to her hips. Her jeans were every bit as form fitting as her leggings, but she felt better about showing off her legs in them.
Diha crammed her feet into her black flats, then gave the room a last look.
Her silver filigree earrings sat on the nightstand. She scooped them up to put on later and headed downstairs.
She needed to get back to London so she could better dig into the drive she’d absconded with. With any luck Cat would be able to help her and they’d recover files they could work with. Something that would help them track Valentino and his girl down.
But how?
Valentino had to be on the move now.
An arm wrapped around her from behind. She froze, but Miles was too strong to resist. He pulled her back to his front.
“Kiss me,” he said in her ear.
She went hot all over and her mouth went dry.
This was fleeting. It wasn’t permanent. Last night, right now, it was chemistry and passion. Miles couldn’t want the same thing she did.
He tugged on her braid and she turned her head, too weak to resist him.
Miles kissed her, igniting a familiar heat within her. Her knees went weak and she found herself clinging to the arm wrapped around her.
“Mm, morning,” he said against her mouth.
“H-hi.”
“Come eat. We have a lot to do.”
“O-okay.”
He took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen.
She stared at that hand. It was awfully hard to remember why she shouldn’t let her heart free right now. But she wasn’t prepared to deal with a man like Miles. No, her heart was too tender.
Two plates were laid out at the small table with what looked like sausages between toasted bread.
“I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.” He gestured to the small coffee pot chugging out liquid.
“Sweet.”
He pulled out a canister of sugar and left her to fixing her own mug before joining him at the table.
Miles was looking at his phone, his serious face back in place now. It was a relief, honestly. She needed to change gears and focus. If she could settle into work mode, maybe she wouldn’t be as susceptible to him.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she picked up her sandwich.
“Zora emailed me. I guess she called you and you didn’t answer?”
Diha froze.
He continued. “She wants us to check in with the guys then head back to London.”
She did the math in her head. They could be back at the office by early to mid-afternoon, leaving her several hours to work with Cat. Diha would need to tell Zora she’d need Cat’s support, especially since Diha couldn’t make use of her team back in DC.
“You slept well,” Miles said.
Her gaze snapped up to his face.
He smirked at her over the rim of his coffee cup.
“I did,” she agreed and ignored the heat creeping up her neck.
“I’m going to do my best to act professional once we’re back at the office. What are you doing for dinner?”
Diha felt as though she were dodging and weaving. While he claimed he was going to be professional, she’d seen that look from him before. Last night. Right before he did the most wonderful things to her.
She swallowed.
He’d asked her a question.
Dinner.
Right.
She knew where he was going and that was a bad idea.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Probably working and eating.”
“Think you could take a short break? There’s a little place not far from the building. It’s busy at lunch, but not at dinner.”
She opened and closed her mouth.
He was serious. No part of her doubted that.
She should say no. That was the safe thing. The thing that would preserve her from heartbreak when he stopped being interested in her. And yet, part of her wanted to feel special to a man like him. Even if just for a day.
“I can maybe make that happen,” she said.
“Perfect.”
The rest of breakfast Miles spent catching her up on emails from his side, including the short report about the hotel crime scene. It was a complete departure from how he’d begun, and it left her unsteady for a few moments. It was like he’d flipped a switch and was back in work mode.
It should have been a relief, and yet she missed the heat in his eyes.
They ate, tidied up the kitchen and loaded the car.
During the drive she pulled out her laptop and tried to work, but it was hard to not be distracted by Miles’ one-sided phone conversations. Not that what he said was interesting, but the sound of his voice soothed her.
Working together was going to be incredibly difficult.
She hadn’t accomplished anything by the time they reached the facility where the rest of her team was being held. Miles parked and led the way inside, using his badge to move them through the process at a faster pace. Before she knew it, they were escorted into a bland room with a table and chairs.
Diha stared around the room.
It hadn’t really sunk into her that Harper and the others were in prison. They’d had to spend the night here.
“What’s it like?” she asked.
“Sorry?” Miles turned toward her.
She gestured to the room around her. “Here. What’s it like?”
“It’s—”
The door opened.
“Hey, there’s our girl.”
Diha whirled to see Harper, followed by the other four shuffle into the room.
They wore what looked like blue scrubs and none of them were handcuffed.
“Oh, thank God,” she mumbled and braced her hand on the back of a chair.
Harper frowned at her and circled the table.
“Thanks, we’ve got it,” Miles said to the guard.
Harper loomed over her, his expression suddenly stormy. “What happened to your face?”
“Uh...” She lifted a hand to her brow then glanced at Miles. “Just an accident.”
Harper directed his glare over her shoulder. His voice was cold. “What did you do? We’re gone for a few hours and you already fucked up?”
“Harper,” she snapped.
“How’d she get hurt?” Harper’s question sounded more like an accusation.
Diha glanced at Logan. He was the team’s leader. He could rein Harper in. But Logan just stood back, arms crossed over his chest, his heavy hooded gaze focused on Miles.
“We didn’t come here to talk about me.” She pushed at Harper’s chest, feeling a little trapped between the two men. Harper finally looked down at her. She gave him a meaningful stare and said, “Besides, some things we shouldn’t talk about quite yet.”
He gave Miles one last glare before backing off a few steps.
“Thank you,” Diha said. “Now, Zora wanted us to come by, see if you remembered anything else?”
She could only assume that request meant that wh
atever official report or correspondence they’d been allowed had been brief and bare bones.
“Did you receive a copy of the timeline?” Logan asked.
She frowned. “Timeline? No.”
“We were documenting the movements in and around the condo.” He gripped the back of one of the chairs across from her. “Late Tuesday night, the woman in the condo started covering the windows. We think she realized we were there.”
Diha nodded. That fit with her theory. “I am assuming the doctored reports framing you were uploaded Wednesday morning. The timestamps were backdated, but the earliest searches that hit on them happened around four in the morning.”
“Framing?” Harper perked up at that. “What do you mean?”
Diha glanced at Miles, who nodded. She licked her lips and launched into her explanation. “The reports identifying you are all falsified. I’ve matched almost every one of them to an existing report. Miles has been working on getting that evidence to the right people, but as you can imagine no one wants to hear that their secure network has been used against them.”
Harper muttered curses.
“No, but they’ll do the right thing,” Miles said.
“You have any leads?” Logan asked.
Again Diha glanced at Miles.
“We have actionable intel,” he said by way of a reply.
Logan nodded, accepting that answer.
“Does this actionable intel have something to do with why Diha’s head got split open?” Harper’s tone was accusatory as he glared at Miles.
“We aren’t talking about that.” Diha shot Harper a glare.
What was with him? Why was he being so stubborn?
She’d seen them get hurt and keep going. She could do the same thing.
“What is the plan for getting us out?” Logan asked.
“It has to work through the proper channels,” Miles replied.
“And the investigation?”
“We’re working on every possible lead,” Diha said.
Miles asked a handful of questions about who they’d spoken to, what they’d been told, and seemed satisfied with their answers. After making yet another promise that they’d see the team released, Diha and Miles left the team where they were.
“They look so tired,” she said once they were back in the car.
“The beds aren’t all that comfortable, but the food is decent and they’re being treated fairly.”
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