Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You didn’t need to spend the night at my hotel. He’s not going to hurt me. Not yet, at least.”
Natasha’s place was in Old Montreal, the historic area of the city dating back to the early French settlers and still infused with their influence. Galleries, cafes, boutiques, and gourmet shops were set in historic buildings dating back to the sixteen-hundreds.
They’d walked down uneven cobblestone streets, the sound of their footsteps a faint echo of history in his ears, the impressive architecture making him feel like he’d traveled back in time.
When they’d approached her hotel in what she’d described as Too quaint and romantic of a setting, and a horse-drawn carriage trotted by, Wyatt couldn’t help but agree. And he’d never been a romantic.
Inside her room, the romantic theme continued.
Natasha likened it to the sets of the Hallmark movies she confessed to watching.
Apparently, such films provided a welcome distraction from work and kept her mind from spinning out of control at bedtime.
He could think of a few other distractions to put her mind at ease, though.
He set his overnight bag down and moved farther into the small space.
Where his overly pricey hotel was bright and modern, her room was cozy with warm accents.
It was sparsely furnished—a black, antique-looking bed with white duvet against an exposed brick wall, matching nightstand with a small brass lamp on it, and an old-fashioned armoire similar to those inside the rooms of his parents’ former home in England.
Unlike more modern hotels, the windows in the room actually opened.
She crouched next to the bed and pulled out a small suitcase, then opened it to reveal a false bottom, exposing a small black box hidden there.
“We’ve got those in our hotel rooms as well,” he said at the sight of the small green light on the device blinking steadily, indicating no listening devices were present.
“I don’t trust The Knight. I like to ensure my room remains free of any intrusions by him.”
Wyatt tapped at the watch on his wrist once she was standing again. “If someone goes into my suite, I get an alert.”
“Sounds like your gadgets are fancier than mine.” She smiled and tossed her jacket onto the bed. Her hoodie came off next. Followed by her boots.
“We’ll have you stay with me starting tomorrow.” There wasn’t much room for the both of them at her place, and if he was in this tight space with her for long, well, God help him.
“That makes sense.”
No argument. He was almost surprised by that.
Standing by her bed in only a skirt, tank top, and socks, it was like all roads led to this woman, and he knew that. Could feel it. Maybe always had.
But this time, could he ignore it?
“The admiral did give me orders to keep you alive and out of jail, and I’d hate to piss that man off.” A smirk touched his lips.
“Knowing Dad, I figured as much.” She sat on the bed and removed her hair tie, letting her mass of golden locks, with hints of pink highlights, fall free over her shoulders to frame her heart-shaped face.
One bed. And with her in it . . . “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“I won’t have you sleeping on the hardwoods. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“The bed can’t be more than a queen.” They’d be too close. Their cover story practice might turn into something real. Who was he kidding? Not a single thing he’d done with her tonight had been an act.
“We’re adults. It’s fine. I didn’t pack anything sexy. All cotton and comfort. No worries.”
Like her PJs would serve as a forcefield to keep his thoughts at bay? “And you’re as crazy as you are beautiful.”
“And you’re as blunt as you are sexy,” she shot back without missing a beat.
“I guess we make a perfect—” A perfect what? He was clueless as to where in the hell he was going with that.
She coughed into a closed fist as if trying to remove the tension he’d created with his dangling sentence.
“You really think The Knight is here, and we can finally catch him?” Her mind was back where it should be and not where his thoughts had gone . . . beneath her skirt.
“As stubborn as you are, yeah, my money’s on you not him.” He would always place his bets on her, too.
“You believe me, right?” She frowned. “I know Harper isn’t quite convinced but—”
“She got burned by someone posing as a copycat on a past op while at Langley. I think she’s just extra paranoid now.” Harper had a few walls up, just like a lot of the guys on the teams. He had to assume her experience at the Agency, before joining Echo Team, shaped who she was—how could it not?
“Oh, I’m not familiar with her casework when she was with the Agency, but I can understand how it feels to be burned. The Knight is evidence of that.”
He pressed his back to the closed bathroom door opposite the too-small-for-the-both-of-them bed.
“So, what’s your alias going to be?” she asked, maybe in need of some diversion. “What will Harper whip up for you?”
“What kind of man would your alias Heather date?”
“Ohhhh, she wouldn’t date.” Her playful tease had his quads tightening.
“So, what kind of man would she sleep with?” He’d done his best to refrain from dropping the F word, knowing the use of such language would send an immediate signal for his cock to salute her.
“A bad boy. Someone with tattoos. Good looking but smart. A sense of humor.” She secured her lip between her teeth, adding an extra sultry effect before dropping, “But you’ll do.
” Her humor faded away too fast, and he realized why when she added, “If you want to keep an eye on Gwen, I’d suggest your alias also be in the cyber field. ”
Gwen. My daughter. Well, probably.
“I can hold my own in that department.” He wouldn’t have been able to say that in the past, but after eight years on Echo, he’d done his fair share of cyber work, and Jessica had been a great teacher.
“I doubt I’m at your level, but as long as I don’t need to enter that competition, I’ll be good.
” He stroked his beard, which was starting to grow in since he’d shaved it last month. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Whether I answer or not depends on the question.” Her tone was so smooth it was as if the silky lingerie she’d claimed she didn’t pack had caressed his skin.
He had to cough. To clear his throat. To do bloody something to get his head on right. “When’d you join the Agency?”
“That’s your question?” The teasing grin that showcased her white teeth had him faltering back a step.
Work talk. It was safer.
“In twenty-eleven.” She stood. “I was twenty-five, just finished getting my doctorate in international relations, and I wasn’t sure what to do with my life, so I thought, why the hell not try and do something where I might make a difference—go outside my comfort zone?”
Outside her comfort zone? Like he was now. “So, I should be calling you Doctor Chandler? You’re like a female version of the character from a Clancy novel, huh?”
“I’m not an analyst.” Her smile stretched to her eyes.
“Right.” He cocked his head. “And are you happy?”
“I don’t have any regrets.”
“But are you happy?”
A moment of silence lingered between them before she said, “On the lonely nights . . . no.”
Hallmark movies to fill the void?
His stomach tightened, because hell, he felt the same, minus the movies.
He wanted to close the space between them, to hold her, but he remained rooted in place, standing in front of the bathroom door.
“Sometimes, I struggle to remember who I really am.” A touch of somberness filled her voice. “Separating from my cover story to remember what’s beneath it all.”
“And what’s beneath?” Getting the knot down his throat was harder with her soft green eyes pinned on him.
“Before I became such a badass, I was a complete dork.” Honesty, he liked it.
Hell, he loved it. “Not a cool girl at all. Someone who says the wrong thing at the wrong time and then wants to hide awkwardly in a corner.” She held both palms to the sky as if saying But hey, this is how God made me, gotta love yourself.
“A girl who wouldn’t walk up to a stranger at a party and kiss him like I did earlier tonight, that’s for sure. ”
“You kissed another guy?” He bent his head to the side, studying this incredible woman. Light radiated from her like the sun. “Because I don’t think I qualify as a stranger anymore.” She made the move he’d wanted to and closed the space between them. “We’re dating. Well, our covers are.”
“My cover wouldn’t date, remember?”
“Right. Just sex.” His muscles tensed on reflex. “So, who’d I meet at Clara’s wedding?”
“I was still fairly new to the Agency, so you probably got a hint of awkward me with a splash of kick-ass me.”
“Is it okay if I am attracted to all of you, not just one part?” he rasped.
The expression The truth shall set you free was spot the hell on.
Sharing those words with her made him feel like a kid again, back when he would imagine flying free in the sky like Superman.
Back before his parents’ loveless marriage and the shitty things he’d seen in the world had become like gravity, weighing him down.
“Because I like the woman who wore flip-flops with her formal dress and who sometimes rambles,” he admitted. “But I also admire how brave you are. Like really damn brave. And how you’re not a quitter, and you’re passionate about what you do. Hell, the way you cursed at me when the Black Hawk took—”
She closed the distance and pressed up on her toes to bring their mouths together, and he dipped his head so she could better reach him.
It was a delicate kiss at first, and he enjoyed every stroke of her tongue, every soft nip and lick. He loved her taking command of the moment. The confidence in her actions was a turn-on.
Her hands moved from his chest around to the back of his neck. Desperate need began to take control of his thoughts—the passionate desire escalating with every pass of her lips over his. With every touch.
But he had to stop. He had to step out of the sunshine. For now, at least.
He tore his lips from hers and held on to her cheeks. “I want you more than I can possibly express.”
“But you’re afraid of hurting me?”
It’d be a damn dead end with him, wouldn’t it?
He bowed his forehead to hers, not ready to let go. “Because I just found out I probably have a daughter, and my head is royally screwed up.”
She went still in his arms. “You got someone pregnant?” And she was surely conjuring up images of a woman out there right now with his child in her—but no, that wasn’t the case.
“Over twenty years ago I did.”
He lowered his hands and stepped back, eyes open, heart thundering as he waited for a response.
“Gwen,” she said at the realization. “Are you sure?” She searched his face for answers.
“Charlotte told me earlier that there’s a chance she’s mine. I called her after I saw Gwen’s name on the competitor list and discovered she’d be in Montreal.” He sat on the bed, dropping his weight onto the soft mattress. “But the second I saw her picture, I just knew.”
Her hand went to his leg once she was sitting next to him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Neither do I.” He placed his palm over her hand. “I never wanted to be a dad.”
“Are you sure no one else knows about this?”
“Aside from telling Arthur her suspicions, Charlotte said she never told anyone else. I was planning to come to Montreal to be here for you, but when I found out about Gwen, and that she was here, it just—”
“Overwhelmed you?”
He peered at her and nodded. “I keep worrying about her, and I keep wanting you, and my head is spinning.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Her sweet sincerity touched him in the heart. “But I can promise you I’ll help you in any way you need. I’ll do whatever I can to keep Gwen from getting in the line of fire while we’re operating here.”
Of course, she’d say that. Because she was a good person.
He let out a soft, “Thank you.”
“But I do think you should tell your people. I’m guessing they don’t know.”
“No, they don’t.” Guilt hit him. “I can tell them tomorrow.” He expelled a deep breath, then wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her tight to his side because it felt bloody right to do so.
“You should know that I really do want you.” He let the unsaid But, followed by a million ellipses, hang between them as chills crisscrossed his body.
“You’re an amazing woman who deserves a man who has his head on straight, though, someone who can give you what you need, who can be totally present in the moment. ”
“You told me before that you had my back,” she whispered softly, “looks like you’re trying to protect my heart, too.”