Tate lifted his head as the door creaked open. Hector Cruz’s mocking face entered his line of vision, but it wasn’t the sight of the rebel leader that quickened his pulse. It was Eva, who apprehensively appeared at Cruz’s side.
He didn’t want to look at her, but his gaze refused to comply despite his brain’s command to look away. When he spotted the blood dripping down her chin, he had to forcibly stop himself from jumping to his feet and pulling her into his arms.
That he could still feel concern for her sent anger shooting up his chest, and he quickly armored himself with that rage, refusing to let Eva see that he still gave a damn about her.
Sitting on the floor, with his legs stretched in front of him and his wrists tied behind his back, Tate watched as Cruz stepped into the room, a semiautomatic dangling loosely from his grip.
“I thought you two might like to chat,” Cruz said, sounding both amused and annoyed. Those black eyes pierced Tate’s face. “Have you given any more thought to my proposition?”
Tate didn’t reply.
Cruz sighed. “I see you need more time to consider it. Fine. Maybe Eva will have more luck.” Now he gave her a pointed stare. “Knock on the door when you’re ready to return to your room. Javier is right outside.”
Cruz took a step to the door, then stopped and tossed a casual glance at the security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling. “Feel free to untie him, but don’t do anything foolish, mi amor. I’ll be watching you.” He smirked, then marched out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Once the lock clicked into place, Eva dashed across the room, her expression awash with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked in an urgent tone.
Tate shrugged.
She dropped to her knees, leaning behind him to tug at the restraints binding his wrists. Her hair got in his face, tickling his nose and making him want to throw his fist into something. Why did she have to smell so good? And why the hell was he reacting to her nearness? Didn’t his traitorous body know that this woman was nothing but a liar?
Her breathing was shaky and irregular as she untied the knots, her fingers cold as they brushed his skin. When the ropes finally came free, Tate brought his arms back to his front and rubbed his chafed wrists.
Noticing that Eva was still half-draped over him, he shot her a hard look and said, “Thanks. You can move now.”
She didn’t say a word as she crawled away from him. She ended up stumbling to the other side of the small space and settling in a sitting position on the cold cement floor.
Although Tate didn’t make eye contact, he felt her gaze on him, felt the desperation radiating from her slender body.
“Tate. Look at me.”
He spared her a terse look.
“I’m sorry I lied. I should have told you that Hector was Rafe’s father, but I knew that if I did, you wouldn’t agree to help me.”
A groan lodged in his throat. He wanted to block out the sound of her voice, but clearly he was a masochist, because he found himself hanging on to her every word. He gave her no sign of it, though, maintaining a cool, indifferent mask even while fighting the insane urge to go to her and wrap his arms around her.
What the hell was the matter with him?
This woman had lied. She’d slept with Cruz, had a child with that monster. She didn’t deserve Tate’s sympathy or concern, and certainly not his forgiveness.
“Everything I told you about my past was true,” she said softly. “My reasons for coming to San Marquez, my support of the ULF. The only thing I lied about was Rafe’s true father. I...” Her voice cracked. “I was in love with Hector. Stupidly in love with him.”
The streak of jealousy that soared up his spine irked the hell out of him. He wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing that if he said something, Eva might see through his uninterested façade. But hell, why was he interested? He shouldn’t want to know the unholy details of that unholy union, and yet the need for details, the need to make sense of it all, gnawed at his gut like a hungry scavenger.
“It only took six months before he showed his true colors,” Eva went on, sounding ashamed. “He was cold, violent, had a hair-trigger temper. Things weren’t going well for the cause at that point, a lot of arrests and strife, no money coming in. Hector was furious about everything, and he took it out on me.”
“And yet you stayed with him,” Tate couldn’t help but snipe. He immediately regretted that show of emotion, but added, “What, was the violence a turn-on?”
Her blue eyes flooded with sadness. “No, it wasn’t a turn-on. I decided to leave him after the first time he hit me, but then I found out I was pregnant. I made the mistake of telling him, and he refused to let me go. I wasn’t kidding about being a prisoner—I had guards on me at all times. I couldn’t go anywhere alone, couldn’t talk to my parents without Hector being in the room. He hovered over me during the entire pregnancy, and eventually I played along. I made him think that I’d calmed down, that I wasn’t planning on leaving him once the baby was born.”
Tate raised his eyebrows. “And he believed it?”
“I’m very convincing,” she said dully.
Oh, he didn’t doubt that. Not one bit. Another rush of jealousy filled his gut at the notion that Eva might have used her sexuality to convince Cruz of her sincerity.
“I made him believe I was still in love with him and that I wanted us to be a family. He bought it, and eventually he stopped keeping such close tabs on me. After Rafe was born—” her smile was dry and bitter “—he was born here, actually, in this bunker. And after his birth, I convinced Hector to let me fly to New York so my parents could meet their grandson. He agreed, as long as I took a couple of guards with me.”
She uncrossed her legs, stretching them out in front of her, and Tate couldn’t help but remember how amazing those shapely legs felt wrapped around his waist as he moved inside her.
The memory brought a silent curse to his lips. Christ. What was wrong with him?
“The moment the plane touched down on American soil, I knew I was free. Hector tried to bring me back, but my parents helped me leave town, and, well, you know the rest of the story,” she finished. “Three years of running, and then I found my way to you.”
“And conned me into helping the mother of Hector’s child,” he muttered.
Her tone grew chilly. “Rafe is my child. It’s not my son’s fault that his father is a monster. I’ve spent three years trying to keep Rafe away from that man. Everything I’ve done has been to protect my little boy.”
Tate frowned. “You should have told me the truth.”
“Would you have teamed up with me if you knew?”
“No.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you,” she said bluntly. “Because the only way to keep Rafe safe is to remove Hector from his life, and I needed you in order for that to happen.”
Tate snorted, gesturing around the cramped, windowless room. “How’d that turn out for you, Eva?” Now he chuckled. “You know, you would have had a better shot of me killing Hector if you’d stayed behind like I wanted you to. I would’ve killed the SOB in a heartbeat, instead of hesitating because I was too damn shocked to hear that he’s your lover.”
“Was,” she corrected, her voice stiff. “The only thing I feel for that man now is loathing and disgust.”
“Oh, I know all about disgust, sweetheart. I’m feeling quite a bit of it right now.”
She flinched as if he’d struck her. “That’s not fair.”
“You really wanna talk about fair when we’re locked up in a room by the father of your kid?”
Even from six feet away, he could see her pulse vibrating in her delicate throat. Panic moved over her face as she studied their surroundings, and he saw exactly what she was seeing—no furniture, no windows, no weapons. A locked door with a guard behind it, and a slim-to-none chance of escape, leaning closer to none.
You had your shot and you didn’t take it.
The reminder only deepened his foul mood. Yeah, he’d had his chance to kill Cruz, hadn’t he, but he’d let the bastard blindside him with that baby-daddy bullcrap. Now he had to pay the price for that asinine move.
The silence dragged as each of them sat in their respective corners. Tate kept his gaze on his feet, but he felt Eva watching him intently. Sure enough, when he tipped his head up, he noticed her astute blue eyes focused on him.
“What?” he muttered.
“Before he brought me in here...” She visibly swallowed. “He told me he doesn’t plan on killing you. He said the two of you share a common goal. What did he mean by that?”
As much as he wanted to be juvenile about this and give her the silent treatment, Tate couldn’t fight the need to talk this entire baffling development through. He still couldn’t believe everything Cruz had told him, and now that he was reminded of it, the perplexing details began flashing through his head again.
Torn between making sense of it and shutting out a woman he clearly couldn’t trust, he drummed his fingertips on the cement floor, feeling Eva’s curious eyes on him.
“Tate?” she said quietly.
He released a long breath. “Cruz claims the villagers in Corazón were dead before the rebels even got there.”
She looked dubious. “That sounds suspect. And how did they supposedly die?”
“From the virus that Richard Harrison tested on them.”
Her breath hitched. “What?”
“Project Aries,” Tate said. “Cruz says Harrison’s lab manufactured a biological weapon that was being tested in remote villages throughout the country.”
“And how on earth does Hector know this?” she demanded, sounding skeptical.
“That’s what Harrison supposedly told him before Cruz killed the guy. It was all the information Cruz managed to get—he claims to have no idea who gave the green light for Harrison’s project, or if either of our governments is even aware of it. All he knows is that when he and his men showed up at the village, everyone was already dead.”
“So why did they burn the bodies?”
“To control the infection,” he said grimly. “They weren’t sure if the virus was contagious.”
“Hector isn’t a doctor,” Eva muttered. “How does he know those people were even infected with something?”
“He says the only visible symptoms were nosebleeds, and that it looked like some of the villagers had foamed at the mouth. But he was pretty much convinced of foul play when he discovered Harrison and his staff examining the bodies and taking notes.”
Eva’s blue eyes blazed. “Harrison was still in the village, cataloging the dead bodies?”
“According to Cruz, yes. Supposedly the village was a test site for this disease.”
Eva went quiet for a moment. “Then it must have been approved by the American government,” she said steadfastly. “And now they’re trying to cover up what happened in the village. That’s why they’re trying to kill you, Tate.”
“Then why send my team to begin with?” he pointed out. “Why put us in the position to discover what Harrison was up to?”
She shrugged. “They needed Harrison. Hector took him hostage, right?”
“He denies that. Says that he and his men interrogated Harrison for six hours, seven hours tops, before my unit showed up. Which makes no sense,” Tate said in frustration, “because we were told that Harrison had already been a captive for twenty-four hours at that point.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that everything you were told was a lie,” she replied. “And it doesn’t matter what the details are. Maybe Hector is lying and he was holding the doctor hostage and trying to negotiate with the U.S., or maybe Harrison managed to get an SOS out before the rebels swarmed the village. Maybe he contacted someone in the government and asked to be extracted. Like I said, doesn’t matter.”
“And why not?”
“Because either way, Harrison was still the head of that project, and our government couldn’t afford to lose him. They probably thought, hey, we’ll send in a team to see what’s going on and try to bring the doc home if he’s alive. Tell them it’s an extraction and then deal with shutting their mouths once they come home.” Her mouth set in a grim line. “The second your team was exposed to that village, someone was already planning on making sure you couldn’t talk, regardless of whether you figured out the truth while you were there.”
It made sense. It also grated, how levelheaded Eva was about this all, and how quickly he’d confided in her when he shouldn’t be saying a damn word to her.
“What exactly does Hector expect you to do for him?” she suddenly asked, sounding uneasy.
“Help him take down his government.”
Her jaw fell open. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. He wants me to go back to the States and expose what happened in Corazón. He’ll offer me money and protection, and give me a fleet of guards if necessary, as long as I take this all the way to White House.”
Now she laughed. “And do what?”
“He wants the American alliance with his country severed. He wants our troops and our relief workers and our doctors out of San Marquez.”
“That’s...ambitious.”
Tate rolled his eyes. “Apparently I’m the man to make that happen. His reasoning is that if we threaten to expose that the U.S. government is actively developing biological weapons while telling the world it isn’t, they’d happily cut ties with San Marquez in order to cover that up.”
“Does he not know our policy of not negotiating with terrorists?”
“I didn’t say his reasoning made sense.”
Sense? It suddenly occurred to him that maybe what didn’t make sense was the way he was sitting here and chatting with Eva as if nothing had changed between them.
The absurdity of his actions settled over him like a black cloud, but what infuriated him even more was the awareness that picking Eva’s brain had become so natural he didn’t even question it anymore. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to enjoy having her around, talking to her, bouncing ideas off her, sharing his frustration about that mission-gone-awry that he still didn’t understand. Somehow, this woman had sneaked through his defenses, and that pissed him off beyond belief.
“Don’t shut down on me.”
Her strained voice jerked him back to the present. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re about to shut down. I can see it in your eyes.” She sighed. “For a moment you forgot that I lied, and you were talking to me like everything was normal, but now you’re going to shut down again and pretend I don’t matter to you.”
“News flash, sweetheart—you don’t.” He didn’t regret the callous words, not even when he saw the flash of pain in her eyes.
Pain that quickly transformed into steely fortitude. “You’re lying,” she retorted. “You care about me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have freaked out at the thought of putting me in harm’s way, or tried so hard to make me stay behind outside the tunnel.”
“Maybe I didn’t want you in my way—did you ever think of that?”
“You care about me,” she repeated. “You like me and you respect me and you wouldn’t be so angry with me right now if I didn’t matter to you. I’m sure people lie to you all the time, Tate—do you react this way every time it happens? I doubt it.”
“Eva—”
“Tell me I matter,” she interrupted. “Stop patronizing me and tell me I matter to you, damn it.”
You matter.
“You don’t” was what he said, and as a result, her beautiful face collapsed. “Don’t fool yourself, Eva. The only thing between us was sex. No relationship, no hope for a future. It was just sex.”
“Just sex,” she echoed, her voice laced with sadness.
“That’s right. All I ever wanted from you was your body. I never made any promises or led you on. I never made you think it would be all rainbows and sunshine and happily-ever-after for us.”
But a part of him had secretly wondered if it was possible, hadn’t it?
That cold, embarrassing truth burned a hole in his gut. Christ, he had considered it. A lot, in fact, during those two days they’d been stuck in the cave. Holding Eva, talking to her, laughing with her—for a few brief moments, he’d gotten caught up in the foolish notion that he and Eva might be able to keep this going after Cruz was dead.
But who the hell was he kidding? He knew better than that. Getting close to people only resulted in heartache. And Eva in particular? The woman was no good for him. She was nine years younger, and she had a kid. Make that Cruz’s kid, for Chrissake.
“You never made me any promises,” she agreed. “I didn’t make any, either. But I’m promising you something right now—I didn’t lie because of some secret plot to lure you out of hiding or to bring you to Hector, or whatever other suspicions are running through your head. I lied because I was scared. I needed you, and I was scared you wouldn’t help me if you knew the truth about my relationship with Hector.”
She slid up to her feet and crossed the room, kneeling before him once more. When her hands came out to cup his chin, Tate stiffened, but he didn’t have the strength to push her away.
“Maybe I don’t matter to you, but you matter to me,” she said fiercely. “You know why I fought to confront Hector with you? It wasn’t because I didn’t trust that you’d kill him, it was because I didn’t want you to get hurt. I wanted to have your back just in case you ran into trouble—because I care about you and because the thought of losing you was too much to bear.”
He swallowed, hoping she couldn’t see the rapid hammering of his pulse in his throat.
“I trust you, Tate, and I care about you. All this time we’ve spent together has taught me that not all men are like Hector. You’ve treated me like an equal on this entire journey. And yeah, you’re ruthless and grumpy and cold at times, but you’re also sweet and tender and funny—” her breath caught “—and I’m falling for you.”
As her confession hung in the musty air, it took several moments for it to register in Tate’s brain. When he absorbed what she’d said, his initial reaction was unexpected—his heart did a pathetic flip, his breath hitched the slightest bit, and he experienced a hot, unfamiliar emotion that was akin to...joy?
Just as quickly, that feeling faded, replaced by something equally hot but this time familiar: anger. Directed at Eva. Directed at himself.
Especially at himself, because what the hell was the matter with him? He shouldn’t feel joy over the fact that this woman might love him. He didn’t want or need her love.
Suddenly he couldn’t even look at her. His body was overcome by a heap of volatile emotions he couldn’t define, and his anger intensified, so powerful he could swear he felt the walls move from the force of it.
It wasn’t until he saw the look of shock and fear on Eva’s face that he realized his fury wasn’t manifesting itself in this room.
The bunker was under attack.
As a deafening boom reverberated in the air, the walls literally shuddered, pieces of cement breaking off from the ceiling and fluttering down to the floor like confetti.
Tate shot to his feet just as he heard a second blast. Muffled, as if it had happened far above them. Without questioning his actions, he launched himself on Eva and shielded her with his body, keeping his head down as he anticipated another explosion.
It didn’t come. Other than a slight ringing in his ears and Eva’s shallow breathing, everything had gone silent.
He awkwardly shifted his weight, annoyed that his first instinct in the face of danger had been to protect Eva, but before he could question the impulse, gunfire erupted beyond the door. There was a startled cry, another gunshot, and then footsteps approached the room.
Just as the door swung open, Tate stood up and pushed Eva behind him.
And came face-to-face with a pair of familiar gray eyes.
“Are you frickin’ kidding me?” he demanded.
Sebastian Stone flashed a rogue grin. “Mornin’, Captain. Fancy meeting you here.”
* * *
Eva blinked a few times to make sure that was actually Sebastian standing there in the doorway. Short blond hair, mocking gray eyes, rugged features. Yep, that was him. He was the last person she’d expected to walk in, but boy, was she happy to see his face.
She had no clue what was going on beyond this room, but it didn’t sound pretty. Gunshots, explosions, tremors. Was someone waging a small war out there?
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tate barked, scowling at the sandy-haired man who’d waltzed in as if he owned the place.
In his dirt-streaked T-shirt, army fatigues and military-issued boots, with an assault rifle in his hands, Sebastian looked every bit the warrior he was. Only the smirk on his face seemed out of place.
“Saving your ass,” he replied. “So come on, let’s not waste time. Cruz’s sorry excuses for soldiers are up there scrambling to figure out why they’re under attack, but they won’t stay confused for long.”
“What exactly did you do?” Tate asked, as Sebastian tossed him the rifle.
The other man pulled a handgun from his waistband and cocked the weapon. “I blew up the entrance, and most of their vehicles.”
Eva didn’t miss the amusement on Tate’s face. “How’d you swing that?” he asked.
“Note to Tate—don’t leave a rocket launcher lying around in the shrubs,” Sebastian replied with the roll of his eyes. “Someone else might come across it and blow up a rebel leader’s secret lair.”
Tate snorted.
“Those explosives you set all over the perimeter didn’t hurt, either,” Sebastian added. He grinned and held up a small silver device that Eva guessed to be a detonator. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I hijacked your bombs.”
“Not at all,” Tate said solemnly. He adjusted his grip on the rifle. “Come on. Let’s beat it.”
Sebastian’s gray eyes flicked in Eva’s direction. “She coming with us?”
Tate hesitated.
Eva’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.
He’d hesitated.
He’d actually hesitated.
But before she could fully absorb the implications behind that one little beat of silence, Tate was already nodding. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “She’s coming with us.”
Without checking to see if she was following, the two men bounded out the door, leaving Eva to tail after them while continuing to battle that frigid burst of clarity.
Her heart felt as if someone had pummeled it with a baseball bat, and the hot tears stinging her eyes made her vision go cloudy. She was vaguely aware of two dead rebels sprawled on the corridor floor. Sebastian’s doing, most likely.
They moved at a breakneck speed, navigating hallways that were surprisingly quiet and threat free. Why weren’t rebels popping out and trying to shoot them? Where was Hector? He’d had a camera in that room, for Pete’s sake. He had to know that she and Tate had escaped, so where the hell was he?
“There’s just one more thing I need to do before we blow this joint.”
Tate’s low voice jerked her from her troubled thoughts.
“Already way ahead of you,” Sebastian said, as they turned another corner.
“Obviously not, or you’d know we have to go this way,” Tate replied, his green eyes flashing with irritation as he took a step back toward the opposite end of the hall.
Sebastian grinned. “Just trust me. We’re going this way.”
Reluctance creased Tate’s features, just for a moment, but then he nodded and allowed the other man to take the lead.
Eva tried not to feel upset in the face of Tate’s easy acceptance of Sebastian’s “trust me.” It shouldn’t have bothered her, or hurt her, that he trusted the other man. After all, they’d known each for years.
Yet it did hurt, how readily he trusted Sebastian when he’d viewed her with nothing but distrust since the day they’d met—even after spending hours naked in each other’s arms.
And he’d hesitated when Sebastian asked whether to take her with them.
Ignoring the pain squeezing her heart like a boa constrictor, she forced herself to match the men’s swift pace. The cinder-block walls whizzed past; overhead lights hummed and flickered as they raced through the bunker toward the room that led to the tunnel entrance.
Five minutes later, they’d ducked down the hatch and were hurrying toward the end of the tunnel, and when they finally emerged from the second hatch, Eva blinked wildly as bright light assaulted her. They’d entered the bunker when it was still dark out, but now the sun sat high in the morning sky, shining down and marring her vision with sunspots.
When the scent of smoke wafted toward them, she turned her head and saw thick black plumes rising from the other side of the rock face. Muffled shouts could be heard in the distance. Then Sebastian clicked the silver device in his hand, and suddenly the ground beneath their feet shook. Another column of smoke swiftly rose from beyond one of the craggy hills.
“This way,” Sebastian said, leading them in the direction of a rock-strewn slope a couple of yards away.
Eva noticed Tate frowning as they trailed after the other man. Her own brows knit together, then soared when she spotted the dead man lying at the top of the slope. The man was sprawled on his back, and the front of his brown ULF uniform boasted a dark stain. Blood.
She’d barely absorbed the sight when she noticed the Jeep parked ten feet away. And the other two bodies. The pools of blood spreading beneath the rebels’ heads made her blanch.
“You’ve been busy,” Tate murmured.
Sebastian shrugged. “Like I said, saving your ass. Come on. Got a surprise for you.”
Eva felt unbelievably uneasy as Sebastian gestured to the Jeep. She hung back, unsure she wanted to see this “surprise.” Instead, she watched as the two men stalked off, with Sebastian in the lead. The Jeep’s top was down, so she could still see both men as they rounded the vehicle.
Tate’s green eyes dropped to the ground, focusing on something out of her line of vision, and when she heard him mutter a savage curse laced with satisfaction, Eva knew exactly what was back there.
Swallowing hard, she staggered toward the Jeep and peered around it.
Lying on the dirt, tied up and gagged, was the father of her child.