Police sirens set every dog howling within a two-block radius. Guns drawn, uniformed officers crowded the stairwell, then swarmed into the apartment. Good guys were sorted from bad guys, statements taken, with only a few moments of excitement when Bob woke up and decided he didn’t want to be handcuffed. Fortunately the police convinced him otherwise.
When the adrenaline pumping through Cara’s body turned her numb, she let Ian lead her away from the garbled static of police radios, away from the rubble that had once been her dining room, and into the quiet of the bedroom.
He made her sit on the edge of the bed. When she started to protest, he pointed a finger under her nose.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll be back.”
“That’s what Arnold Schwarzeneggar says just before something explodes.” Her sarcasm earned her a smile, but he said nothing, just turned on his heels and left the room.
When he came back no more than two minutes later, first aid kit and wet washcloth in hand, she was humiliated that he found her shivering.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, wrapped the bedspread around her, then sat on the bed and gathered her in his arms.
“I think there’s a window open somewhere.” The warmth of his strong arms felt wonderful, and she burrowed herself into his chest.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Sinclair.” He rocked her, brushed his lips against her temple. “It’s normal to go into shock after someone points a gun at your head.”
“I’m not in shock,” she insisted, was furious when her teeth started chattering. “And why do you know so much about guns and what’s normal, anyway?”
“I know.”
She went still at the sober tone of his words, then pushed away and looked up at him. “How do you know?”
He sighed heavily. “I’m not exactly who you think I am, Cara.”
Her hands were trembling now, and she pulled the bedspread tightly around her. “Go on.”
“I work for a high-level government agency,” he said evenly. “My assignments are normally out of the country, usually dangerous and always covert.”
Either she’d been hit on the head too hard or he had. “You mean top-secret?”
“Yes.”
He was teasing her, she decided. Trying to lighten a serious situation. “So now that you’ve told me,” she said, forcing a smile, “you have to kill me, right?”
He didn’t smile back.
She blinked, looked for the lie in his eyes, but found none. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid so.”
It took her a minute to let his words, then the reality sink in. He was a government agent. Undercover.
Her mind was spinning and she closed her eyes, drew in a slow breath to steady herself. It would explain so much. The gun he carried, his reaction to her when he’d caught her spying on him by the lake, the way he’d handled Bob the hit man.
It had been there all along, right under her nose. She’d been so focused on her goal, she’d never seen the obvious.
But she knew she’d missed it for another reason, too, and the truth of it stung. She’d fallen for him, hard, and her emotions had blinded her.
She felt like a fool.
“Cairo,” she whispered, and the shiver she felt now had nothing to do with guns or bad guys. “You aren’t going to Cairo for your company. That was a lie, too, wasn’t it? You’re going on an assignment.”
“Not anymore.” He took her by the arms, turned her to face him. “I missed my briefing. It’s going to get a little complicated, but Jordan is going to have to send someone else.”
“Jordan?” It took a moment, but she remembered the woman who’d called him at the cabin was named Jordan. “Your business associate?”
“My boss.” Brushing her hair away from her face, he reached for the wet washcloth and pressed it to the fiery welt on her cheek. “At least, she was my boss.”
“Was?”
“I’m going to choose another assignment. One she has no jurisdiction over.”
Her heart sank. Three times already she’d had to prepare herself for his leaving: at the cabin; their first night in Philadelphia; then last night again. How could she survive a fourth?
She should be furious at him. She’d certainly earned the right to give him a big piece of her mind. He’d lied to her, deceived her. She should demand he leave right now, tell him she couldn’t stand to even look at him.
But she loved him. She’d be the liar if she pretended anything else. After what they’d gone through together, she only loved him more. Nothing else mattered. Not that he’d lied, or who he was. Or what he was. To her, he was simply Killian Shawnessy. He was everything.
“Will you come back?” she asked, hating the pathetic sound of her voice.
“It’s a long assignment,” he said solemnly. “Very long.”
“How long?” She didn’t care if it was a hundred years. If he wanted her, she’d wait.
“The rest of my life.”
Confused, she frowned at him. “The rest of your life?”
He nodded. “The thing is, I need a partner. But it’s a dangerous and very risky assignment. I wouldn’t ask just anyone. It takes a very special woman.”
She had to remind herself to breathe. “What’s the assignment?”
He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her face up to his. “Marriage.” There was a slight tremble in his voice. “To me.”
Her heart, which had felt like lead only a moment before, skipped lightly into her throat. He wanted to marry her?
If he was teasing, she couldn’t stand it. She swallowed, forced a light tone to ward off the threatening tears.
“Gosh, I don’t know, Shawnessey. That is dangerous. Does this position come with fringe benefits?”
“A house, probably. Maybe a dog.” He brushed his thumb over her lip. “But the hours will be long, well into the night, every night.”
She raised her brows. “Every night? That’s an ambitious assignment, Flash.”
“Okay, most nights.” He smiled, then sucked in a breath. “And kids, Blondie. God help me, I want kids. You up for the job or not?”
She hesitated, still uncertain if she were asleep and this was a cruel dream. But the warm touch of his hand on her skin was real, the feel of his body pressed against hers solid.
He wanted to marry her. Have children.
A giddiness overtook her, one of those silly, female outbursts that she’d always abhorred. She caught them both off guard when she flew at him, sent them both tumbling to the floor wrapped in the bedspread and each other. Her mouth found his, and she kissed him soundly, deeply, luxuriating in the feel and taste of him.
“Say it.” She rolled on top of him, pinned him underneath her. “Say it, Flash.”
He grinned up at her. “I love you, Sinclair. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes, yes. And I love you, too.”
He kissed her again, deeply, tenderly, and she felt the heavy thud of his heart under hers.
“I’ve lived alone all my life,” he said carefully. “I thought that was enough, all I’d ever need. And then you showed up, all fire and sass, and you had me hooked from that first day.”
“The first day, huh?” She raised a brow and smiled. “So you are into tying a woman up, are you?”
He rolled his eyes at her nonsense. “When you walked out of that bathroom so damn smug, laughing at me with those incredible eyes of yours, I was a goner, Sinclair.”
His admission took her breath away, and also brought the tears she’d been struggling against. “I think I loved you from the first minute I laid eyes on you, Shawnessy. Standing on that cabin porch, looking like the lone hunter. Daring anyone to invade his territory. You were magnificent.”
She’d never seen him blush before, didn’t know he could, but there was pleasure in his eyes, as well.
“I thought I could walk away,” he murmured. “Thought that I’d be able to let you go. I was a fool.”
Grinning, she brushed her lips with his. “Don’t forget pigheaded and stubborn.”
He grinned back at her. “I may not be easy to live with.”
She laughed at that. “And you think I will?”
He laughed, too. “We’re quite a team, Blondie.”
“You got that right, Flash.”
He kissed her as he never had before—with love and a promise for tomorrow. There were details, so many details, she thought dimly as she kissed him back. But what did they matter?
After all, details were her specialty.
* * * * *