Chapter 1 #3
Roman desperately wanted to pull Harper to his side and shield her from Carmen’s vicious tongue and whatever she’d possibly say next.
Carmen pointed a finger between him and Harper in a dramatic fashion. “Su amante?” Lovers?
“I thought I explained we work together,” Harper answered with a confident tone. “How do you two know each other?”
Clearly, Harper had translated Carmen’s question.
Carmen’s sharp green eyes flitted back and forth between Roman and Harper.
“I was married to Roman’s cousin, Thiago.
He was the mayor of Barcelona.” For a brief moment, a sense of grief washed over her, but it was quickly replaced with a smug grin.
“But Roman was my first love when he spent a summer here at eighteen.”
Roman stole a look at Harper, and her brows tightened for a second. She most likely remembered when Roman had taken a week off work for Thiago’s funeral in 2019, not too long after Harper joined the teams.
“My condolences,” Harper offered, even though Carmen hadn’t mentioned Thiago had died.
“Only thirty-nine when he died. Same age as our Roman will be this year.” Our Roman? That wasn’t going to sit well with Harper, and then Carmen just had to add, “One of these days, hopefully soon, I plan to steal Roman back to Barcelona.”
Roman ignored her attempts to bait him into saying something he’d regret. She wasn’t after his love, though. It had always been and would always be about his last name.
“Sweetheart.” Zack showed up a moment later, his hand going immediately to Harper’s back.
Zack would still be able to work with the use of only one hand after Roman broke every finger in his other one, right?
Roman bit down on his back teeth and reminded himself that one day Harper would share a bed with another man. A life. Kids. A future.
How many bodies would he need to bury before she met the man she’d marry?
“We need to get going.” Zack peered at Carmen. “Apologies.” Then he looked to Roman, his nod an order to get a move on.
“Good to see you, Roman. If you plan to stay in the city, reach out to me. I’d love to reconnect.” Carmen leaned forward and slowly pressed her lips to his right cheek, then his left. Roman nodded goodbye and joined Finn, who was paying their tab.
Roman unmuted his comm before Finn alerted the others, “On the move,” as they started for the elevator.
“Roger that,” Wyatt answered.
When Roman entered the elevator, he did a thorough sweep of the interior to ensure there’d be no repeat incidents like what happened in D.C. last October when they were gassed and kidnapped.
Harper stood alongside Zack, opposite Finn and Roman. Her mouth was set in a hard line as she locked eyes on Roman, and it was clear they hadn’t been through with their conversation when Carmen interrupted them.
Palming his jaw, Roman pulled his gaze away from Harper and looked to the ceiling of the elevator.
The last thing he needed was to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirrored walls surrounding them, or to think about how Harper used to tease that the scruff on his jaw felt like sandpaper between her legs.
And yet, she’d loved it when he kissed his way to her center, dragging his rough cheeks along the creamy skin of her inner thighs.
He couldn’t help but look at her again and found her eyes glued to the hand cradling his jaw as if she’d been sharing the same memory. When she met his gaze this time, desire had replaced the concern. At least temporarily.
He was suddenly struck with a guilty thought . . . during their time together, when she’d tried to poke around with questions, had he averted her focus by setting his head between her legs to bring her to orgasm?
No. He’d done that because he couldn’t ever get enough of her.
“You solid?” Zack cut a hand through the air to snag their attention.
The motion reminded Roman of a happy couple slicing a wedding cake, sadly, something that would never happen for Roman and Harper.
Harper lightly startled as if mortified by her lack of attention on an op and redirected her focus to Zack.
“We’re good,” Harper answered for the both of them, and maybe that was for the best because Roman nearly found himself snarling at the memory of Zack’s hand far too close to her ass upstairs.
“We’re ready to roll,” Finn said, and Roman had almost forgotten he was next to him.
Harper had always worried about the possibility of their relationship compromising the teams even though Asher, who served as Bravo Three, and Jessica made it work. But Roman was certain not being together was their problem right now because their separation was just as much of a distraction.
When the elevator doors parted, Roman’s eyes connected with A.J. standing in the luxurious lobby area. He was dressed the same as Finn and Roman, and he tipped his head, indicating he was heading out to the street.
Roman checked his watch. Two minutes until the source was to arrive out front.
“Is he arriving in a vehicle? Walking?” Roman asked Harper after he and Finn flanked the “couple” as they all walked toward the exit.
Harper side-eyed him. Her game face back on. “He only said to be out front in ten.”
She slowed her pace as she neared the main doors, then waited for her bodyguards to precede her.
Roman stepped outside and held the door open, and he hated that sinking feeling in his gut when she looked toward the street instead of setting her eyes on him.
“Anything?” Zack directed the question to Harper, obviously assuming she would recognize the target since she’d worked with the man in the past.
“No,” she responded as the chilly fifty-degree temp caused her to shiver.
Roman was tempted to place his jacket over her shoulders, but he needed to hide his SIG.
When the valet approached, Roman responded to him in Spanish, letting the gentleman know they wouldn’t need their rental tonight.
“Hold your positions,” Wyatt said, coming over the line a few seconds later.
“I may have our target in sight. Check out the black Mercedes parked thirty feet away at your three o’clock.
Windows are blacked out, engine running, and someone just hopped out of the driver side in a hurry and is heading south. ”
“I’ll pursue,” A.J. answered, and Wyatt quickly described the target.
“We need eyes on that vehicle,” Wyatt instructed. “I have a bad feeling.”
“Roger that,” Roman replied. “I’ll check it out.” He turned to Zack and Harper. “Get her back inside until I clear the car.”
“It could be our guy, and he’s waiting.” Zack eyed the vehicle in the distance. “We should be the ones to approach. He’ll spook and take off if Harper doesn’t show her face.”
“Hell no. Not until we confirm there are no imminent threats,” Roman commanded, and Finn stepped alongside him to stare at Zack, a signal they were on the same page.
“What if—” Harper’s words cut off when a piercing snap heralded an explosion that knocked him and everyone nearby off their feet.
Roman shook his head, trying to rid himself of the shock of what had just happened to confirm his people were okay.
Wyatt was no longer in his ear, most likely because they’d used the cheap comms instead of their high-tech ones.
It couldn’t have been a very big blast since he was still conscious, albeit with a constant, dull ringing in his ears.
He set his palms to the road from where he’d landed and lifted his head, searching for Harper.
She wasn’t too far away in front of him and appeared to be okay. Finn was off to his left and alive. Zack on his right and still kicking.
A few screams coupled with alarms from nearby cars were the only sounds he heard as a cloud of smoke began to fill the area, and the Mercedes roasted amid flames. Most likely a small car bomb.
Roman slowly stood, coughing as he reoriented himself and urged his body to move toward Harper, but what he saw made him pause.
She was standing now, her arm outstretched as if reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
“Harper!” Roman called out and started her way, but she didn’t turn. Her focus remained on whoever or whatever she was reaching for when two headlights cut through the smoke.
Without a second thought, Roman launched himself forward, throwing all of his weight at her to shove her out of the way of the oncoming car.
Roman placed his forehead in the crooks of his elbows, hands grasping the back of his head, and braced for impact in case he didn’t make it out of the way in time.
In a blink of an eye, his training took over. When the car hit him, he landed on top of the hood and aimed for the windshield so the glass would break and cushion his fall, absorbing the brunt of the impact.
Everything happened so fast.
And he wasn’t lucky this time. The glass didn’t shatter, and instead, he bounced off the car and landed on the road with a heavy thud, his hands slipping free from protecting his head.
And the last thing he remembered, the last thing on his mind . . . was Harper.