Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They were going to talk?
That’s what he’d said. Olivia had heard Ethan say it. Had watched his lips move as his voice had whispered across the scant distance separating them. Then, why had it sounded like a euphemism for sex?
He wasn’t wrong, but… They needed a break. She needed a break. Some smidge of information that revealed whoever Jason Parker was. Because after four days of searching, they were exactly where they’d started. With nothing.
Unless she counted the number of times she’d nearly knocked on Ethan’s door.
Pleaded with him to give her a chance to explain.
It might be several months too late, but something had to give because she was drowning.
Barely keeping her head up enough to breathe.
And that was only seeing him for a limited about of time each day.
If the trail went cold, and she had to spend the next month partnered with him in order to hunt Smyth down via other means…
She’d lose it. Would have to get Gibson to commit her to some kind of facility when she ended up rocking in the corner mumbling Ethan’s name over and over.
Watching him work as if nothing was wrong—as if being close to her didn’t affect him, at all—only made her feel more insane. As if she’d been unwanted weight he’d been happy to shed.
Even now, with him standing behind her, waiting for her to open the door to her room, he was silent. No increased breath. No fidgeting to suggest he was at all uncomfortable with the upcoming chat.
She was uncomfortable. Was fighting not to gasp in air as she had to steady her hands just to get the keycard in the slot—hold it there until the light flashed green. A turn of the handle, and they were stepping inside, all her nervous energy filling the room.
Olivia stopped a couple of feet in, spinning with the intention of telling Ethan she was tired. That they could talk tomorrow because the thought of standing there, staring at him, had her wired. That earlier thought about sex filling the gap between them.
And she would have. Would have shoved him out the door if she’d been able to speak.
Get one word to pass her lips because the way he was looking at her, now.
.. He wasn’t holding back any emotions. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring.
A light flush on his cheeks that wasn’t associated with the cold temperatures.
He looked like he had when she’d gotten out of the helicopter after nearly being blown up.
A man on a mission with no option for turning back. Bowing out.
One step. That’s all it took for him to get dangerously close. Pin her to the spot with that killer gaze of his. The one that made the room feel hot. That blocked out the view, leaving only his hazel eyes to focus on.
The muscle in his temple jumped as he leaned in even closer. Filled her senses with the scent of winter and pine. A hint of citrus from his skin. “Are you on some kind of secret kamikaze mission for MI6 you haven’t told anyone about?”
She frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Maybe a suicide pact with Gibson you’re itching to fulfill?”
She snorted, giving him a shove. Not that he moved, the bugger. “What are you talking about? Are you daft?”
“Just trying to come up with one logical reason why you’ve suddenly got a death wish.”
“I’ve got a death wish?”
He inched closer. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did I stutter?”
“That’s rich, coming from the man who would have driven off the side of a bloody mountain if I hadn’t been there.” She smirked. “Oh, wait. You’d already done that. Guess you thought that first cliff wasn’t challenging enough.”
“That was life or death. I didn’t start that avalanche, and I didn’t have many options. But I would have taken another route if necessary.”
“Right, because self-preservation has always been at the top of your list.”
Ethan snagged her elbow when she went to turn away, holding her still. “Risking your life to save a teammate is one thing. Throwing it away on a roll of the dice is careless. Not to mention irresponsible.”
“Wanting to get some concrete intel isn’t careless or irresponsible. It’s my job.”
“Flying a couple of feet off the deck in order to avoid a missile strike is your job. Backing up your team like that day at the pier is your job. Sneaking into a high security stronghold with no backup, no intel, and armed with nothing more than a decoder ring and a damn laser pointer is reckless.”
“Don’t lecture me on reckless, Ethan. Not when you’re still sporting the bandages from the trip up here because you were too damn stubborn to ride in the chopper.”
The muscle flexed, again, his pulse tapping faster at the base of his neck. “I’m talking about calculated risks. Not some harebrained scheme guaranteed to get you shot. Or were you planning on charming your way out of there, tonight?”
“I don’t need charm to take care of a few blokes.”
“So, you were going to kill them, then? Just use a few fancy moves then what? Leave them in the corridor? Or were you hoping to drag them into one of the rooms? Not that it would have mattered because there’s no way you could have disposed of them without getting caught on video, and having this entire thing circle back to you. ”
“I tampered with the camera feeds down there. No one would have seen anything. And, at least, now, we have access to those cameras. Can watch whatever’s going on in their secret rooms.”
“In other words, we’ll have more video of the same people we already know about.”
“We might get lucky, and it was definitely worth the risk.” She glared at him. “You should talk. You followed me down there.”
“Because I couldn’t believe you were actually breaking in! That you thought IDing Parker was worth dying over.”
“Of course, it’s worth dying over. It’s a mission.
I’m expected to do everything within my power to secure a favorable outcome.
You’re no better. You go into every op expecting to die.
Wanting to die, if I’m being honest. So, don’t judge me just because I’m not a soldier. I’m every bit the warrior you are.”
“This isn’t about who’s got the bigger balls, Olivia.”
Another snort. “Isn’t it? You think I’m helpless. I disagree.”
“You walked into that sector without any weapons! None! Knowing full well that anyone you encountered would be packing for a small invasion. That’s what this is about.”
“Not everyone goes into an op with an arsenal of guns. That’s why I’m a spy, not a soldier.”
“You’re on Smyth’s hit list. You can’t treat this assignment like any of the others you’ve done. This is a whole new breed of crazy you’re up against. And they won’t think twice about killing a lady.”
“They never do. So, if you’re just going to stand here, lecturing me on how I don’t measure up to your expectations, you can bugger—”
He kissed her. No preamble, no working himself up to it. Leaning in slightly to see if she was on board, just his fingers carding through her hair as he stepped in and crushed his mouth to hers.
Had he always tasted like this? Like forever? That’s how it was, now. His tongue tangling with hers, backing her up until she hit the wall. He moved his hand—cushioned her head—then increased the pressure. Licking and nipping until tiny dots exploded behind her eyes.
She wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure or a lack of oxygen. Probably both. Didn’t care as long as he didn’t stop. Kept her locked in that moment. Every possible inch touching. His mouth devouring hers.
He must have needed some air, too, because he released her lips.
Kissed a path down her neck, sucking at where her pulse thrashed beneath her skin.
Could he see it? Did he know it was tapping triple time?
That it wasn’t from the aftermath of nearly getting caught—having the op go tits-up?
That it was him? That it had always been him?
Ethan mouthed the curve of her neck, smiling at what felt like a new hickey, before meeting her gaze. Lust-blown eyes stared down at her, the hazel more bronze than she remembered. He didn’t speak, just watched her, chest heaving. His fingers clenching and releasing in her hair.
Damn. She knew that look. The one that said he wasn’t sure if he should keep going.
If this was a colossal mistake—the kind he couldn’t recover from.
Couldn’t take back. That, if they crossed the line, had that sex she’d been thinking about, they’d lose whatever ground they’d gained—the tenuous hold on their sanity they’d somehow clawed back.
Worked for her. She’d already been falling.
Had been waiting to hit the ground since returning to London.
If getting another chance to be with Ethan meant she’d never quite get there—would have to live the rest of her life in limbo—she’d accept it.
Especially when she suspected that would be the end result, regardless.
That somewhere along the way, she’d bet everything on this single outcome.
He tilted his head, then rested it on hers.
He wasn’t leaving, but he wasn’t stripping her down, either.
Seemed poised on that edge—waiting for some kind of sign.
Or, maybe he was weighing his options. Deciding if she was worth the risk.
If he could forgive her long enough to make this work.
Take them where they both wanted to go, even if it only lasted tonight.
Ethan stayed firm for a few more seconds before easing back. Not enough to leave. More like a shift in order to get into a better position. Allow him to trail one hand down her neck, stopping at the edge of her jumper. He stared at his hand, toying with the fabric before he sighed.
He met her gaze, any hint of indecision gone. “You still want me to fuck off? That is what you were going to say, right?”
She let her head rest against the wall, never breaking eye contact. “Are you planning on being a royal arse for the rest of the night?”
A lift of one side of his mouth, and damn, he looked sexy. “Probably.”