Chapter Twenty

“Well, aren’t you the patriotic soldier?” Dimitri said with a sneer in his voice. “I didn’t take you for someone who’d use her body for a mission.”

Cold shot through Ivy as he launched himself from the bed. She scooted backward and hit her head on the cave wall, momentarily stunning her from speaking. She rubbed the back of her head and tried to get her bearings. Finally, she managed a weak-sounding “What?”

“Give it up. You aren’t the best actress. Jesus. Did Dominick order you to fuck me? Or was that all improv?”

If he’d been next to her, she would have slapped him. As it was, she was rendered speechless by a mix of hurt and rage. She’d just surrendered her body to him as completely as she could, and his first response was to accuse her of being a whore and then say she was lousy at it?

Anger broke the mute barrier, which was good, because if hurt won, it would be with tears. And she’d be damned before she’d cry in front of him over his insults. “You complete and utter ass. I don’t fuck for my country—between the two of us, I’m not the one who’s a spy. How many women have you fucked for the job? I hope you had the decency to do a better job with them.”

She grabbed her clothes and yanked them on. She wanted to dive into the pool to wash his sweat from her skin, but she’d feel less vulnerable clothed.

“A better job? You didn’t seem like you were having a terrible time.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m a better actress than you think.” God, how was it that they were even having this argument? What had she done?

But she knew what she’d done. She’d fucked a spy. Again.

She was too stupid to live.

Clothed, she headed for the stairs to the upper chamber.

“Where the hell are you going?” Dimitri asked.

“As far away from you as I can get.”

“Don’t try to leave the island, Ivy.”

“I’m not stupid.” But she was. So very, very stupid. Part of her had wondered if she was falling in love with the spy. She couldn’t get much dumber than that.

She reached the bottom step before he caught her arm and swung her around to face him. “Why did you fuck me?” he asked. “Were you trying to get me to surrender?”

The pain in his eyes caused her own heartache to find its voice. “No,” she whispered.

“Why, then?” he asked again.

“Because I wanted you. I’m sorry you found me lacking, but I wasn’t acting and had no agenda.” She yanked her arm from his grip.

“I found you lacking?” He shook his head. “When did I say that?”

“You accused me of being a whore, then said I’m not the best actress.” Her hands shook as humiliation engulfed her. She curled them into fists to fight the emotion from seizing control. “I said what I did because I’m a dumbass and what we just did meant something to me. But not anymore. Go ahead and give up, but don’t expect me to give a damn when you’re gone.”

She turned and ran up the steps and crawled through the tunnel, determined to get away from him before tears fell.

She reached the top of the island where the solar panels were set up, and curled up at the base of a tree.

This was why she’d given up sex. She’d forgotten it was the heartache that accompanied emotional attachment that had killed her libido.

It was debilitating to have opened herself up to someone so completely—whether it was the man she’d married or a spy she’d picked up at a party—and have him turn so ugly, so insulting, right at the moment when she was most vulnerable.

She’d wanted to give Dimitri a reason to live—a reason to fight. Such a fool to think she could be that reason.

Apparently, Patrick was right. She was lousy at sex. She had the social skills of a robot and only another computer could ever love her.

She swiped at her tears with the heels of her palms. On one level, she knew Dimitri had lied when he claimed the sex wasn’t good, and Patrick was just plain full of shit. But it was hard not to internalize when she’d had so much invested in her marriage, and Dimitri was the first man she’d been with since then. She was rusty, and, well, they hadn’t exactly had a normal relationship progression.

That thought made her laugh as well as cry. The last three words didn’t belong in the same sentence when it came to Dimitri.

She blotted her face with the hem of her shirt. She needed to get her emotions under control and get back to work, or she’d never escape this nightmare.

She stared at the wet blotches on her shirt. Proof Patrick was wrong. She wasn’t a damn robot. She felt as deeply as the next person. Patrick had been the coldhearted prick. He’d just covered it better with his veneer of charm.

“Why did you divorce Patrick Hill?”

She jolted at the question and bumped her head again—this time on the tree trunk. She hadn’t heard Dimitri’s approach.

“Go away,” she said.

“You misunderstood me. Before. When I said you aren’t that good an actress, I wasn’t talking about the sex.”

“I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck. Go away.”

“Sex, being with you, was amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Great. You can post that on Yelp if they have a whore page.”

“I was out of line.”

She finally lifted her head and met his gaze. The mouth she’d devoured—and which had devoured her. Those lips had felt so good on her…everywhere. “Ya think?”

“It’s just, I can’t turn back. Not for you. Not for me. It’s impossible. And when you asked me to cut a deal… Well, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Then tell me. Why are you doing this?”

“Why did you divorce Patrick?” he asked again.

She was too raw to go there, to share that pain with this man who’d cut her nearly as deep after she’d surrendered so completely. She pushed up from the ground. The landscape had shifted. Or maybe she had. Either way, she needed a new map to navigate what she’d just discovered was landmine-laden terrain. “I’m going for a hike. Don’t follow me.”

“Ivy, it’s not safe—”

“Just leave me alone. Please.” She pushed aside branches and headed for the saddle of the island. She’d give herself an hour to get her head together, then it was back to the cave to get ready for another night of data collection. She would find the AUUV, hand it over to a team of SEALs, and go the hell home.

Dimitri watched Ivy escape through the thick vegetation. He had no choice but to follow her, for her safety. She was unarmed, and he had no doubt more men from Hill’s former organization were on the hunt for her and CAM.

But he’d give her space, as she requested, and follow at a distance.

Shit. Could he be a bigger asshole? She’d misinterpreted his words in the worst, most painful way, which told him something about her relationship with her ex.

He’d witnessed so much of her strength, he’d failed to see how much pain she hid. So maybe she was a good actress—in one area, at least.

But then, hiding pain from one’s enemies was a basic survival skill, and this was a reminder that even though they’d made love, even though he’d come to care about her far more than he should, they were still and would always be enemies.

And he’d unintentionally used sex to break through her strongest defense shield.

Ahead of him, she skirted around one of the skylights, a small opening that looked down on the lower chamber of the cave. Where he’d just made love to her, then gutted her because she dared to ask him to find a reason to live.

He covered her trail as he followed. He’d have to do the same on the return. At least the soft canopy bounced back quickly, and evening rain would likely erase any vestiges of their passing.

At last, Ivy settled in a patch of sunlight, but instead of staring upward, she faced the soft ground and drew shapes in the dirt. Thirty minutes passed as he watched her, hidden from her view by a leafy plant, but he had no doubt she was aware he guarded her.

She jumped up all at once and turned back for the cave. He tucked himself deeper in the shadows as she passed, then visited her seat in the sunlight. He paused before erasing her markings, his heart feeling tight at the necessity for wiping away this glimpse into her psyche.

A series of triangles were drawn in the dirt, followed by symbols and complex equations he couldn’t begin to understand.