My cheeks glow red.
I shake my head, but it’s a weak liar’s gesture.
Of course, it has something to do with him.
It has everything to do with him.
I ache to know what he was going to say before he weirdly cut himself off, walking away without so much as an explanation.
“It was just small talk,” I say. “Party chatter, you know. Nothing more.”
Patricia tilts her head, reading me like she always does. Ever since she found me two years ago she’s had this uncanny ability to read me. She knows when I’m hiding something.
“He’d be lucky to have you,” she says, placing her hand on my arm. “Any man would. You know that, don’t you?”
I feign a wide smile. “Of course I do. I’m hot stuff.”
The words ring hollow.
I don’t feel like hot stuff.
I never have.
“Anyway,” I say. “Shall we get back to work? The last time I checked, I wasn’t being paid to mope.”
Patricia sighs. I can tell she doesn’t like it when I take jabs at myself, even if they’re sarcastic. She’s always telling me that I’m talented and funny and attractive, but it never hits home, not really.
Because I’ve never felt like that.
Well, except once.
When Jett stared at me, his blue eyes burning into me, pinning me into place, maybe then I felt attractive.
Chapter Three
Jett
The contact has never given me his name, even after all these years. I first learned of him after I left the SEALs and came home to care for my sick mother.
One of my SEAL buddies said he knew of some work that might suit me, a man who didn’t mind getting his hands dirty and was comfortable in the shadows.
Ever since then, I’ve never asked for their name.
I’ve never needed it.
But now – as I sit in the dark conference room, my hand a tight fist around the burner cell – I could fucking roar it down the phone.
And tell him that he’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to hurt her.
When the cellphone buzzed in my pocket, it was like a reminder of what I am, of how insane it is that I’ve given this girl my real name when I’m supposed to be on a job.
It didn’t exactly break the spell she has over me. I don’t think anything could do that. But it did pull me, momentarily, back to reality.
Then I went into the hallway to check the phone, not wanting one of the partiers to accidentally see my screen and maybe spot their own face.
But it was a photo of her, the woman I’ve already mentally marked as mine, mine alone.
The woman I need to claim, whose body and smile and scent captivated me the moment I stopped her from falling.
It was a photo taken on the street with a long lens, with her name beneath it in stark black letters.
That was it. No reason. No justification.
“Do you really think I’m going to kill her?” I snarl down the phone, my other hand gripping the conference table so hard my knuckles turn the color of bone.
The alien voice answers bluntly, “You don’t have a choice. No, that’s not true. You do have a choice. Do your job as you always have … or we’ll put you onto the same list she’s on. You’ll be hunted. Your life will be ended. Now just ask yourself, Jett, is this woman worth it—this woman who you don’t even know?”
“I’ve never killed a woman,” I snap. “I only kill the guilty. What crime is she guilty of, eh? Tell me.”
I slam my fist down on the table. The wood cracks and splinters under the force of my fist.
“You’ve been afforded the courtesy of knowing what your targets have done over the years, Jett, firstly because of your SEAL experience – we thank you for your service and all that – and later on because you’re such an effective agent. But it seems that somewhere along the way, you forgot that it was a courtesy and not an obligation. Do you understand? We owe you nothing. But you owe us a whole lot. You signed up to do this work. Now do it.”
My fist trembles against the table, the jagged broken pieces of wood grinding against my skin. I feel like roaring until the tendons in my throat break.
This was supposed to be my last job. This was supposed to be the end of it all.
“I’m not killing her,” I snarl, picturing her kind, sassy eyes, that curvy body of hers.
Dimly in my mind, I can hear our children singing and laughing, children I never even knew I wanted until I laid eyes on her.
But now I know that I want them—no, need them.
Something ancient and hungry has awakened inside of me, something I don’t understand, and yet I can’t ignore it. I can’t even try.