Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You mind telling me why we’re meeting at five in the morning?
” Zack folded his arms across his faded Georgetown tee paired with wrinkled khaki cargo shorts and gray Nikes.
His brown hair was sticking up in all directions like he’d just rolled out of bed, which she guessed he had.
And from the looks of it, his face hadn’t seen a razor in a few weeks.
Harper set her eyes on the Potomac. It was a bit too early for the typical crew teams to be out on the river, their oars slicing through the still water. There weren’t even any joggers in sight.
It was warm, a little muggy, and far too quiet. She needed to break that silence, but her throat muscles were locking tight, seizing up as she struggled to say a name she hated.
When the reception had wrapped up at midnight and everyone settled into their suites at the hotel, Roman had snuck to her room like he’d done the night before. And then, guiltily, she’d crept out of bed thirty minutes ago to call Zack and demand an emergency meeting.
She’d phoned her old case officer from the Paris CIA station, knowing he was currently stationed on a desk at Langley, not far from the hotel she was staying at for Natasha and Wyatt’s wedding. He’d answered in a daze, and she’d heard a woman in the background tell him to hang up.
Surprisingly, he stood before her now, looking as tired as he ought to be for a Sunday morning before the sun was up.
With a hand around her neck as if she might loosen the words free, she whispered, “Is he dead? Is Brandon Atwater dead?”
Zack’s forehead became as wrinkled as his shorts. “Where’d you hear that? You’re a civilian now. I can’t talk to you about—”
“Is. He. Dead?” Her hand fell from around her neck.
Was his heart beating faster? Was he nervous? She needed to know. Call a bluff or a lie if he opted for that route. It was too dark to see if his pupils were dilated or witness an uptick in his pulse at the side of his neck.
“Where are you getting that intel?” His arms left their crossed position, and he rested his hands on his hips.
A kid told me. Sort of. She’d be keeping that to herself.
“Why didn’t someone tell me Brandon was dead? I know I’m not with the Agency anymore, but I went through hell because of that case. You ordered me to stay with him after I learned he was Dumas, a traitor.” Emotion started to wreak havoc on her, and she did her best not to cry from the memories.
“You know I didn’t want to ask you to keep seeing him, but what choice did we have?” he asked, a hint of remorse in his body language and tone.
“You could have pulled him in the second we suspected he was Dumas,” she hissed in a low voice.
“Do you know what it was like to . . .?” Tears fell free now as she struggled to share her thoughts, and God, she felt sick.
“You should have told me the second you found out he died, you son of a bitch.”
Zack reached for her arm, attempting to pull her to his chest, but she shoved him away. She was taking her anger out on him even though she knew damn well he’d only been relaying orders from the Inspector General and director of the CIA.
Once Elaina’s cryptic message had fully sunk in last night, years of pent-up anger and rage bubbled to the surface. She hadn’t even been able to make love to Roman. She’d been withdrawn, and he’d most likely blamed himself, but no, that’d been all her.
Harper had kept to her side of the bed, facing the window as if there was a wall between them. Honestly, she thought he’d leave at the cold shoulder she’d given him, but she also hadn’t wanted to be alone.
“I’m sorry.” Zack grabbed hold of her wrists, ignoring the looks of an early morning dog walker, and forced her into his arms. He held her tight, hugging her as she cried, all the while wishing it was Roman consoling her instead.
Screw classified. Maybe she ought to tell Roman anyway. Risk prison for breaking protocol by letting him know about the dark cloud, known as the Dumas case, that hung over her head.
“I was against those orders,” Zack admitted, a soft voice in her ear as he rubbed her back, trying to calm her. “I should have said fuck it and ordered Brandon picked up the second we knew. I’m sorry.”
She wanted to believe that, and maybe a small part of her did, but she needed the truth right now, not any shoulda-coulda-woulda excuses. She freed the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “What happened to him?”
“He was being transferred from TH Crimson to a cushier site per POTUS’s orders when the helo had a mechanical error, and the pilot was forced to crash-land. Brandon escaped when they landed in the jungle in Nicaragua, but he was injured. Local police found him dead twelve hours later.”
“When?” She stepped back to set eyes on Zack.
“I just got back from Nicaragua last night. I went to confirm Brandon’s identity to make sure the fucker was really dead and transfer his body back to the States. That’s why I’m so tired right now and why my girlfriend wasn’t too eager for me to get out of bed to go meet with another woman.”
“And you’re sure it was him?” She pinned her forearm tight across her abdomen, her thoughts heavy and dark. She wanted to feel relief. Elaina told her she could move on. Why don’t I feel like I can move on?
“Yes, it was him.”
After they parted ways a few minutes later, her brief conversation with Zack played on repeat as she quickly made her way back to the Gaylord National Resort.
Once inside the hotel, she cut through the impressive nineteen-story glass atrium to get back to her hotel suite, hopefully before Roman discovered she was missing.
“He’s dead,” she muttered alone inside the elevator, and her eyes locked on to her reflection in one of the mirrored walls. Her hair was messy, and she’d selected her plain gray T-shirt to mimic her mood.
She stood outside her suite for a few moments, centering herself with a few deep breaths before quietly opening the door and slipping inside.
The sight of Roman standing in the living room with the lights on, a phone to his ear, had her tensing up.
The distressed look on his face about did her in after an already tough morning.
“Never mind, she’s here. Go back to sleep.” He tossed his phone onto the couch and strode toward her in a hurry as the door clicked shut.
From the looks of it, he’d just woken up, made a few frantic calls, and was about to go search for her. He was barefoot, his jeans were unzipped, and he hadn’t yet put on a shirt.
“Your phone was off.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to his chest but backed up almost immediately. “You smell like . . . someone else.”
Harper shut her eyes. Zack had hugged her, and his cologne must’ve clung to her shirt. And Roman was a special operator who noticed absolutely everything. She hadn’t thought this through.
“I met with someone I used to work with at the Agency about an old case,” she confessed, then went around him and began stripping. She felt dirty all over again thinking about Brandon and the old case.
“Who? Why?”
She toed off her sandals, removed her khaki shorts, then lifted her tee over her head and tossed it. “Elaina said something to me last night, and I needed to—”
“That’s what happened? That’s why you clammed up?” He took hurried steps her way and stopped her with a hand on her arm before she unclipped her bra. “What’d she say to you?” He didn’t question how crazy that sounded. He knew of Elaina’s special abilities, and he believed in them.
“She was trying to be helpful, but I . . .” Harper shook her head, not sure what to say. “I can’t talk about this. The case was classified, and all you need to know is that I-I have closure now.” And I need to figure out how to actually act as though I have closure. Move on. Forget. Forgive myself.
“So you called some guy and arranged a pre-dawn meeting?” he hissed, still gently holding her arm.
“Yes,” she answered in an exhausted voice, her shoulders collapsing.
“And he, what, held you? Comforted you?” He released her as if the wheels of his mind were spinning with jealousy. The alpha in Roman, the man who gave her an absurd amount of orgasms, was out in full force.
“We met by the river. He answered my questions. He saw I was upset and he hugged me. That’s it.”
The filth of her past was crawling all over her skin, and the only thing she wanted to do was stand in a scalding shower and scrub it from her body.
Roman’s brows snapped together when she removed her bra, but he kept his focus pinned to her face despite the fact she was only in her nude thong.
“You’re still upset,” he bit out. “What’d he do to you?
Did you not want him to touch you?” He was hanging on the edge of control.
And she was sure only two people saw this side of Roman.
Her in the bedroom when he fucked her as hard as she begged him to, and enemies on the battlefield who hurt innocent people.
“He only hugged me,” she said, enunciating each word for extra emphasis. After I shoved him because I was angry. After I blamed him for making me stay with Brandon.
“Who?” The demand was paper-thin. He knew better than to ask her to open up about her past when he wouldn’t do the same.
“I already told you. A Company man.” She needed to abort. To turn away before he wrangled more intel out of her because she was still emotionally fragile and just might go ahead and share her truths and risk imprisonment. “And now I need to shower. Please, let this go.”
He dragged both palms down his face. He was tired and probably hungover. And now worried about her, which was not what she wanted.
When he lowered his hands, his gaze fell to the necklace she’d nearly forgotten she’d slipped on before bed.
“Harper.” The throaty way he said her name as he clutched her pendant with his large palm had her realizing there was another way to make her feel better.
She took one step closer and reached for the waist of his jeans, which had him losing hold of the pendant. One shove and they fell to the floor to reveal he was sans briefs. “Make love to me,” she begged. Make me forget.
“Make you forget what?” he asked in a broken voice, one that nearly destroyed her.
Oh, God. Had she whispered her thoughts?
“Please,” she cried. “I don’t want to talk about it.” I can’t. “I need you.” Tears filled her eyes, and he brought his hands to her cheeks to catch the liquid with his thumbs.
His hands slid around her body, and he gathered her into his arms, hoisting her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he stepped out of his jeans and pinned her back to the wall. The strong, steady beat of his heart against her chest almost made her believe everything was going to be okay.
But when he locked his brown eyes on hers, the look of fear cutting through his gaze made her remember their problems were more than a few easy fixes.
He was terrified something was wrong with her, and she would refuse to let him fix it.
How’d he think she felt about whatever secrets he was keeping from her?
“I won’t ask again,” she murmured. “I need to forget. And either you help me, or I go into that shower by myself and—”
His mouth slanted over her lips in a hot, possessive kiss. One that told her she was his and that he was still jealous that she’d snuck out to meet with another man.
His tongue eased in and out of her mouth like a tease. Giving it to her only to take it away. She shimmied, grinding into him as he tortured her with erotic kisses.
Before she knew it, he had her flat on the bed, his shaft covered in a condom, and he hovered over her. They were panting and hot for each other.
She set her hands to the hard planes of his chest, prepared to reach between his legs and guide him herself if he didn’t enter her soon.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Indecision filled his heated gaze, and she didn’t want to lose this battle with him. She desperately needed their connection.
Maybe it was safer for him not to look her in the eyes right now. He was too smart, and he was going to cockblock himself because of worry.
“I want you to take me from behind.” She twisted beneath him before pushing onto her hands and knees. “Not like behind-behind,” she tossed out, just in case the effects from the alcohol last night still kicked around, and he mistook her words.
He responded by skating his warm palms down her spine, and she arched on reflex before he gripped hold of her hips and positioned her ass against his groin.
But then . . . “I can’t do this. Something is wrong. It doesn’t feel right.”
His gravelly words had her heart sinking. She flipped to her back as the dam broke and tears fell.
“Baby,” he whispered and wrapped her into an embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
He held her as she cried.
Soothed her.
Gave her exactly what she needed—his love, a love he’d never admit.