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  “Don’t look. Keep those beautiful eyes locked on mine. I hope you’re not in a relationship with anyone else. I like my girlfriends monogamous.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend. I’m single for life.” She hated the disgust that spewed from her mouth when she spoke about Robert, but he was an ass and she hated him for it, even if he was dead.

  “I doubt that. You’ll meet the right guy someday, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

  His face remained in front of hers, and his breath smelled sweet from the soda he’d had at the bar. She tried to breathe him in, but her throat had tightened after the gunshot and her stomach was revolting from her excessive drinking coupled with stress.

  “No,” she said. “My Mr. Right will move to another city, leave me in limbo for years and have a little girl in a pink dress with the woman he really loves.” Her body shook. From detailing Robert’s deception or the guns being fired around her? Probably both.

  Kieran leaned forward and kissed her again. Soft this time, nothing forced. “No. A real man would keep you close and never let you go. I guarantee it.”

  “Mr. Brody, it is time.” One of the goons suddenly pulled Kieran back and left her with a perfect view of the room. Jess screamed. Max had to be dead, because half of his head was sprayed all over the floor and one wall of the barn. An hour or two ago, she’d flirted with him in the bar.

  Bile crawled up her throat, and she turned away from the image of his dead body to vomit. Her shaking morphed into intense tremors and her insides chilled. She pulled on her arms, but the rope binding her wrists wouldn’t budge. She continued to struggle, even if it was futile. Blood covered everything. Even when she shut her eyes, the blood remained.

  Wanting a life away from her small town didn’t mean she wanted to live inside an action movie. Maybe a house in the suburbs, a trip to the ocean… Anything but this. The men surrounded Kieran. They untied his hands and pointed a gun at his head. They couldn’t kill him, though. She couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle Max’s death.

  She cried out, trying to gain control of a situation she had no control over. Someone slapped her hard across the jaw. The sharp pain brought tears to her eyes and knocked the panic back inside of her, where she swallowed it and tried not to make a sound. Her focus, however, circled back to the blood and the gun pointed at Kieran.

  “It is regrettable you killed Glazkov in his attempted escape. We cannot make the switch now,” the older man said to Kieran.

  “The government will take my word over yours.”

  “No. The residue will show that you not only killed Max in his escape attempt, but you also killed an innocent girl who got in the way.”

  They were going to kill her, too? Tears blurred the image of Kieran trying to fight his way free. Holding his arms behind him, two of the Russians punched him in the stomach over and over.

  “Stop it, please!”

  Her yelling only made them hit him with more force. He wobbled on his legs, his head bent forward, and he slipped to the ground.

  The leader placed the gun in Kieran’s grip, holding it steady with two hands. Was Kieran unconscious? He wasn’t fighting them anymore, and the leader was aiming the gun he held at Jess’s head.

  Oh my God. She tried to escape and let loose the loudest, highest-pitched scream she’d ever made.

  Kieran opened his eyes. He pulled the gun back until it faced in the opposite direction, toward him.

  More violence, more death. Not him. Don’t kill him.

  Someone kicked Kieran in the gut, and his grip faltered. The men around him moved to point the barrel back toward Jess’s head. All feeling had stopped in her system. It was him or her, and for some reason she’d prefer if he pulled the trigger on her rather than harm himself.

  Kieran obviously had different thoughts. He struggled to control the aim of the gun, receiving two more kicks in the process.

  “Stop! Don’t hurt him. Please,” she yelled.

  The bullet hit her before she heard the shot. Fire ripped through her thigh, burning and tearing her apart. Blood covered her skirt and leeched into the dirty hay beneath her. Did she scream? She didn’t know, but Kieran’s eyes widened and he shouted something she didn’t understand before her world faded to black.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kieran’s backup team arrived a mere five minutes after he put a bullet in the most interesting woman he’d ever met.

  She couldn’t die. Life couldn’t be that unfair. After over twenty years in the field, he’d never shot anyone. Why did his first bullet have to hit Red?

  Kieran had received two fractured ribs and some internal bruising, but otherwise he felt fine. Jess, on the other hand, had lost a lot of blood and was sent by helicopter to a hospital in North Bay. He reached the hospital an hour later by ambulance. No one would inform him of her status. After the emergency room doctor cleared him to leave with the caveat that he see his own physician within the next forty-eight hours, he pulled on his shirt with slow painful movements.

  The door opened, and his partner George Fletcher walked in, sporting a navy suit and a pissed-off attitude. “What the hell went wrong?”

  “I didn’t have backup.” Kieran stepped forward and poked his friend in the chest.

  “We had a flat tire caused by a bullet. They must have spotted us. It took twenty minutes to fix it, and by then you guys were gone and some beat-up bartender was freaking out about a woman named Jess. I’m guessing she’s the person we found at the barn.”

  “She is.”

  “Do you know why they broke protocol?”

  “Mark died before the exchange and they didn’t want to transport Max out of Canada. I don’t have the precise details.” Kieran should have halted the mission when he saw people in the place, but he hadn’t and the result included two injured civilians and Max’s murder. “It would have been easier if we were at the farm we used before. No civilians. What moron orders a swap at a bar?”

  “Logistics is full of morons. And they’ll blame us.” George cracked his knuckles and frowned after Kieran filled him in on more of the details. “The Director’s going to demote us to file clerks if this gets out.”

  “What happened to the witnesses?” Kieran asked.

  “Toby took care of the bartender. He’s got a busted nose but is otherwise okay. It’s the woman we need to worry about. Someone at the hospital already leaked her gunshot wound to the press.”

  The idea she’d end up on the front page in some media circus sent chills through Kieran. She didn’t need the hassle and the agency didn’t need the negative press. Jess’s part in the mess today could be easily hidden if the group at Langley did their jobs. “See if someone can change the story. Maybe heroin users on a crime spree.”

  “I’ll get Oswald on it. Worst case scenario, he can shut down their servers for a few days. They’ll be too busy to worry about some unlikely Russian spy conspiracy.”

  Kieran nodded. “Thanks. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. If we can keep all of this hushed up, she’ll be even better.”

  Fine. But Kieran needed to see her, just to be sure.

  “Let’s go. I booked us on the first flight back to Dulles,” George said, stepping toward the door.

  “Right now?”

  “You want to stay here in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Let me check on the woman first.”

  “Don’t take too long.”

  George waved and walked down the hall, probably in search of a cup of coffee, and with him gone Kieran manipulated a young nurse into giving him the information he needed. One step from Red’s door, however, another older nurse stopped him. She should, he must look like a thug with his ripped clothes and hunched over posture.

  “I’m sorry, but family only at this time.” Her hands rested on her hips. Her eyes flashed a threat.

  “We’ll be related soon enough. She’s my fiancée.” The lie wrapped around him and felt comfortable, as though a hint of truth
existed within the words.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” A smile emerged, and the nurse stepped out of the way.

  Monitors beeped a steady rhythm inviting him into the room. A pair of exotic eyes greeted him without an ounce of the hostility he’d expected, and all the pain in his torso disappeared at the sight of her. Damn, she was pretty. Her hair spread across the pillow like molten lava. Her jaw sported a huge bruise on the right side and her leg was wrapped and propped up on pillows.

  The leg he’d shot with his gun.

  “So we’re getting married?” Her voice low and scratchy. Her eyebrows rose.

  “Just say ‘yes’ and make me a very happy man. I hope you don’t mind moving away from here. I had my heart set on living near the coast of Maine.”

  She ignored his comment. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I was more worried about you.” He sat in the chair next to her bed and clasped her hand. “I’m sorry. I tried to move the gun away from you.”

  “I know. I watched the whole thing, except when you were kissing me. Thanks. You spared me an even worse vision of Max’s death by blocking the view.” She tried to smile but tears started flowing down her cheeks. Her expression appeared a bit off, as though she’d taken drugs that were slowing her down. “What happened to all the other people?”

  “They were arrested. Drug dealers attached somehow to Max.” He needed to change the subject, because lying to her made his stomach sour and his head hurt. “Is your family coming to pick you up?”

  “No. I’ll get a ride back home in a few days.”

  “From who?”

  Her arm waved in small circles as though she couldn’t decide. “Maybe Adam or his wife Lily. They called to check on me. Adam has a concussion and broken nose but is otherwise fine. Are you staying here for a while?”

  Someone knocked on the door. “Ready, buddy?”

  Kieran’s heart and all of his emotions fell to his stomach like a granite boulder. Red. He couldn’t leave her here unprotected. It wouldn’t be right. His body remained anchored to the side of her bed as though he’d be losing a piece of himself if he walked away. He’d just met her under the worst of situations, and he knew nothing about her except that she was lonely, feisty, and brave. And Kieran needed more of her. He wanted her history and he wanted her future.

  Her hand curled inside of his. A perfect fit.

  What would his superiors do if he stayed? Fire him? Doubtful. He already had one foot firmly planted in retirement. Besides, she needed a ride home and should have someone secure her place. He could help her out. The US government, after all, had caused her to be here by choosing a dangerous and too public place to make their swap.

  “Come on, we’re going to miss the flight.” George opened the door, entered the room and pulled on Kieran’s arm.

  Kieran remained with Jess. “I need to stay for a few days at least.”

  “For what?”

  “Debriefing. I’ll see you back at the office when I’m done.”

  “That’s not a good idea. You don’t need a black mark on your file so close to the end.”

  Kieran glanced over at Red. She stared out the window, not really focusing on anything. Her pain medication must have kicked in.

  “I need a few days,” he replied. “They owe me for placing my life on the line for a paycheck that barely covers my mortgage.

  “Good luck with that.” George shook his head and strolled out of the room, steaming coffee in his hand.

  Red remained silent for a few minutes, breathing in an easy, steady rhythm, and then her eyes closed. Her breathing slowed and she slept, her hand still in his. Kieran settled in next to her, staring at her peaceful expression and relaxing for the first time in twenty years.

  For two days, he stayed with her at the hospital, Red’s fake fiancé. They compared her childhood in a town of under five hundred and his own childhood in the suburbs of Baltimore. She told him about Robert, the jerk who screwed with her and then died in a car accident on the way back to his wife. Kieran told her about Heather, his ex, and Heather’s new husband and three children. They both drank their coffee with cream and preferred chocolate chip ice cream over plain chocolate. She wanted to travel. She wanted to find a life away from Ohneka. He wanted a life away from Washington DC.

  They held hands on the drive back to her apartment. Neither spoke during the ride. Instead, they absorbed each other’s presence until they’d each left a permanent mark on the other’s heart.

  He helped her out of the car and set up her crutches. As they made their way to the door, his phone rang.

  “Brody,” he answered.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His direct boss, Randy, sounded furious. Nothing new, but his anger rarely focused on Kieran.

  “Tying up loose ends, sir.” He’d already given his excuses, but no one was buying them.

  “Bullshit. You need to leave there immediately. Dmitriyev was not with the men arrested. No idea how the bastard slipped away from the authorities.”

  Oh. Kieran had heard Dmitriyev say he wanted out of the FSB and was headed to Venezuela. A witness to his defection. To make matters worse, Kieran had yelled out in Russian to stop the men from hurting Red in the barn, blowing his cover and probably placing himself in Dmitriyev’s crosshairs. And what about Red?

  “I can’t leave. There was another witness to the execution as well. She has no idea what’s really involved. She needs protection.” He explained the situation to Randy.

  “It’s you he wants,” his boss said. “You’re the only live witness to his confession. And if he’s really set things up down there it’d be easier to—”

  “I can handle it.”

  “You didn’t handle the last mission.” Randy’s words came out slow and threatening. “Report to my office in the next ten hours or you’ll be leaving this job without a pension.”

  Twenty years of twelve-to-twenty hour days and now they threatened to cut him off because someone wanted him dead? He sighed. “I’ll be there.”

  Red had already opened the door to her place and maneuvered herself inside while balancing on the crutches. Kieran followed. Her apartment was small but pretty. Too pretty for a woman lost in depression. She had to have some hope. Bright blues and yellows made the place inviting and cheerful. Lots of plants decorated the shelves and windowsills, and a large painting of the ocean with a cruising sailboat stood over her white and blue couch.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You weren’t lying about loving the ocean.”

  “Someday, I’ll be on that sailboat.”

  “I’d love to be your first mate.”

  She tilted her head up to his. Her smile faltered, and her bottom lip quivered. “You have to leave?”

  “Yeah. Work is calling.”

  She nodded. “What is it you do? You and a gun and Max?”

  “I work for the government. Boring job usually. Never had anyone die in front of me before.” It was true. His assignments had always finished without problem. He’d been lucky, and his luck ran out with Max.

  “My job’s usually pretty boring too. It was interesting meeting you, Kieran Brody.” She choked his name out.

  “You too, Jessica Wonder.”

  He stepped closer and kissed her softly on the lips. Perfect lips, the top curved with a sultry invitation while the full bottom offered itself as a main course. His hands clasped her waist and held her tight as he deepened the kiss into a promise, strong and solid and forever. She returned the intensity, arms resting around his neck. A low groan escaped his throat.

  More. He wanted more of her, all of her. When they separated, her lips were swollen and open and so damn welcoming, causing his desire to grow from a warm ember into a fiery blaze. But he forced himself to break away and go back to his car. She’d been used for sex by the son of a bitch who had hurt her. Kieran refused to go down the same path. He’d guard her heart and build their relationship slowly until he c
ould commit to more than a fling.

  The second he sat down, he called Randy. “Jessica Wonder, the other witness, needs protection or I’m not leaving.”

  Randy gave him shit and then promised he’d assign another field officer to keep an eye on her.

  Kieran took a final glance toward her apartment and drove away.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Two months since being shot, Jess could now move around without a cane. She still limped occasionally, but with physical therapy her doctor was confident she’d be walking “like a runway model” by the end of the year.

  It was seven o’clock and time to hit the books, time to kick out Marcia Wolfe, the newest resident of town and one of her closest friends. Marcia had arrived from Toronto the day after Kieran dropped her off from the hospital, moving into the apartment downstairs. She tended to live inside Jess’s apartment whether Jess wanted her there or not, which made her the perfect companion to keep loneliness at bay.

  Dressed in a burnt-orange wool jacket, black jeans, and black biker boots, Marcia looked drop-dead gorgeous and kickass cool. Jess, on the other hand, wore plaid pajama bottoms and an oversize gray sweatshirt. After a full day at work, and with only her books to keep her company at night, why worry about appearances?

  “Are you bowling tonight?”

  “I can’t. I have to study.” She was so close to finally finishing her degree, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with friends, she wanted to quit working at the bank and find a teaching position more. And Kieran was coming tomorrow. She hadn’t seen him, but he’d called her weekly since he left for Washington DC. His confident and calm approach to everything flowed through the phone and soothed her broken heart. With him in her life, she believed in fairy tales, even delayed ones.

  Work had overwhelmed his life, he’d said, but he’d promised to return his first free weekend. And this was it.

  “Too bad you’re such a bookworm. The boys miss you.” Marcia carried her coffee mug over to the sink and rinsed it out.

  Most of the town had conveniently forgotten her month of drunken antics, so she’d tried to forget too. Her renewed dreams didn’t leave time for excessive drinking or carousing with random guys, but the local male population, led by Adam, had decided she needed extra protection after being shot. Whenever she emerged from her home they circled her like a tribe of older brothers.