Extreme Measures

20

Zane didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t know what to say, for that matter.

From the moment he’d walked out of the shower and found Eve sitting on the bed, he’d been speechless. After their argument downstairs, he’d expected to barely interact with her before Ryder showed up. And now here she was. Telling him things he’d never in a million years expected her to divulge.

So much now made sense. The way she’d started distancing herself after that bombing in Beirut. Her antagonistic tone when he’d tried to talk to her about what was wrong. Her animosity the night he’d confronted her. “Eve—”

She stepped back, out of his reach. “You’re not like me and Carter and everyone else in the Company. You believe that one life has value, whether that life is a child or an adult or an innocent or even a suspect. And you have a clear dividing line between right and wrong. It’s why you left the Agency. Not because you weren’t good—my God, you are good, and Aegis is lucky to have you. But you left because there is no gray area for you.”

He had. She was right. The life of a spy had not been what he’d expected, and by the time he’d gotten to Beirut, he knew he was going to leave. He’d been planning to turn in his resignation when his tour there was up. And then he’d met Eve, and his world had turned upside down.

“My whole life is gray areas,” she went on. “There is no right or wrong for me. There’s only what’s needed to get the information for the next op.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

She moved back again, and disbelief coated her features. “Don’t you get it, Zane? I’ve sat back and watched things most people hope never to see. Prisoners being tied up and held in stress positions for hours on end, being subjected to hypothermia, sleep deprivation, even waterboarding. I stood by and watched when they were screaming for mercy. And I did it because it was acceptable—they were the bad guys and we were the good, and that made it okay. But it didn’t stop there.”

She paused, and he could see that there was more. Something she didn’t want to tell him. Regret brewed in her beautiful eyes. “The contact you saw me with in Beirut . . . I knew he was planning to hit a high-profile target somewhere in the city. I knew, and I let him go anyway. I was waiting for more information from him about the mole. I made the decision that a few people dying in a random car bombing didn’t matter in the long run when I was facing a compromised officer who could be feeding US secrets to terrorist cells. I made the choice. Me. No one else.”

The school. That bastard had gone on to blow up a school US aid had helped rebuild. Dozens of children had died. And she could have stopped him. His words to her in that warehouse, when he’d accused her of being a traitor, filled his head and wrapped ice-cold fingers around his heart. “Eve—”

“No, don’t.” She took another step toward the door. Toward freedom. “You said it wasn’t my fault what happened to Carter and Natalie? Maybe it wasn’t directly, but indirectly it was. They were in that park today because of me. They’re dead now because they tried to help me. Not you. Not anyone else. And if something were to happen to you because of me”—her voice caught, and she closed her mouth briefly—“I couldn’t live with myself.”

Warmth filled his chest and radiated outward through his limbs. In a moment of panic, when he’d had her tied to that chair in the warehouse, she’d admitted that she’d once loved him. But he hadn’t believed her, not really. Now he did. Now he knew that what held her back wasn’t lack of emotion, but the exact opposite.

He crossed the space between them before she could run, wrapped both arms around her waist, and tugged her close. Her hands landed against his biceps. Confusion crossed her features. She was strong, and, in her mood, fired up enough to take him down, so he backed her against the wall and closed in at her front, trapping her with his arms and legs so all she could see was him.

“What are you doing? Let me go.”

She pushed at his arms, but he only held her tighter around the waist. “Not on your life. Never again.”

“Archer, goddammit—”

“I love you, Evelyn Wolfe.”

She went still as stone in his arms, and wide, shocked eyes darted to his. “No you don’t. You can’t. Didn’t you hear any of what I just said to you?”

“I heard it. And if you’d told me all of this sooner, we could have avoided a hell of a lot of trouble between us the last few days. We could have avoided the entire last eighteen months.”

“You—you don’t know what you’re saying.”

His lips turned up at the corner, and, releasing one arm from around her waist, he swiped at a smudge of dirt across her cheek. “I know that I’ve been miserable since Beirut. That I don’t really sleep, I just dream of you. I know that as much as I wanted to hate you, a part of me still ached for you. Every hour of every day. And I know that these last few days with you, even though I’ve wanted to strangle you half the time, have been the best of my life.”

Her eyes grew damp, and her fingers dug into his biceps. “Don’t say shit like that. I’m not like you. I’m not . . .”

She looked quickly away, blinked several times, and swallowed hard, and in that moment he knew what the big hang-up was between them. It wasn’t just that she loved him and was afraid to take a chance again. It was that she didn’t think he could ever see past the things she’d done.

He slid his finger under her chin and tipped her face back to his. “Just because I couldn’t hack it as an officer in the CIA doesn’t mean I don’t understand the necessity of what you do, Eve. I know what goes on behind closed doors. I know about enhanced interrogation techniques and the choices you have to make between snagging small fish and big ones. Just because I can’t do it myself doesn’t mean I don’t support those who do.”

She closed her eyes. “Zane—”

“I can’t judge you for what you’ve done, and I can’t forgive you either. You’re the only one who can do that. But you’re not the monster you want me to believe you are. And though you might not be able to see the good you’ve done, it’s there. Trust me, beautiful, it’s there. You’ve made a difference in the world, and that’s something not a lot of people can say they’ve done. Me included.”

“You do make a difference,” she said softly, opening her eyes and staring at her hand resting against his bare chest. “You save people. That’s more than I’ve done in ten years.”

“The people I save wouldn’t need saving if they’d just learn to stay out of trouble in the first place. And besides, I don’t work for Aegis anymore, remember?”

“Ryder’s an idiot to let you go.”

“He didn’t have a choice. I left to find you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat too.”

Tears filled her eyes. Tears filled with so many emotions, he could feel them vibrating in the air between them. “I don’t love you,” she whispered. “I don’t even know what that word means anymore.”

“Yes, you do.” His heart swelled, and he lowered his head, kissing the corner of her mouth so very softly. “You’ve loved me for years, you’re just too stubborn to admit it. If you didn’t, you would have left me on that rooftop. You would have ditched me on that island. And you wouldn’t still be with me now, telling me things you never had to tell me, making me love you even more.”

“Zane . . .” She closed her eyes. But she didn’t pull away. Instead she tipped her chin up and to the side, letting him kiss her jaw, her cheek, shivering when his lips moved toward the sensitive column of her neck.

“We’re gonna work this out, you and me. I’m not about to let you take the fall for something you didn’t do. And there’s no way I’m walking away from you now.” He pressed his lips to the sweet little mole just beneath her jaw. Loved the way she trembled at his touch. “Tell me you believe me, Evie.”

Her whole body tightened, and her fingers lifted from his arms and threaded into his damp hair. And then her hands were pulling his head toward hers, her fingernails digging into his scalp while she lifted to her toes and fit her mouth to his. “Kiss me.”

Her tongue pushed past his lips and dipped into his mouth. And the taste of her—heat, life, love—filled his heart. He deepened the kiss, stroked his tongue against hers, trembled himself when she arched into his growing erection and the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his chest.

“Need you,” she whispered against his lips. “Need you now.”

Her fingers dropped from his hair, streaked down his body, and tangled in the towel at his hips. Cool air rushed over his overheated skin just before she pulled her mouth from his, pushed him back a step, and dropped to her knees in front of him.

He was already hard, and he knew if she touched him there with those sinful lips, he wouldn’t last. And he wanted this to be about her. Before she could wrap her lips around his cock, he dragged her to her feet and closed his mouth over hers.

She protested, tried to pull away, but he kissed her deeper. Then he wrapped his arms around her, cupped her ass, and lifted her feet off the floor.

She groaned into his mouth and kissed him slowly, deeply, until he was aching to taste all of her.

He carried her to the bed and laid her out. Her dark hair fanned around her as she hit the mattress. He eased away long enough to tug her shirt off, mindful of the bandage around her arm. She wriggled out of the garment and lifted her torso off the bed, reaching for him. Her fingers slid along his jaw, drawing his mouth back to hers, and then her lips were there again. Kissing him softly. Teasing him until he saw stars.

Emotions filled his heart and soul and mind. This wasn’t about sex. This time it was about so much more, and he wanted to prove to her it always would be.

He kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone. One hand closed around her breast and squeezed. She moaned and arched into his touch. He flipped the front clasp of her bra and slid lower, dragging his lips down her sculpted chest, and then he finally brought her breast to his lips and circled the nipple with his tongue.

“Oh, Zane.”

He loved the sounds she made. Loved the way when they were together—whenever they were together like this—the real her came out. The one he’d known years ago. The one he’d rediscovered on Bainbridge Island. The one she could never hide from him.

“I want to lick you everywhere like this, Evie.”

She groaned at his words. Moaned when he moved to her other breast, licked and laved and finally sucked. Her legs spread open, and she made room for him. He rocked his hips against hers, pressing his erection right between her legs where he knew it would drive her absolutely crazy.

He moved back up to her lips, nipped and licked and suckled there too. She arched into him and kissed him back. Her fingers slid back into his hair, and her nails scraped along his scalp. But it didn’t hurt. If anything it only amped his need more.

He flipped the button on her jeans, pulled away from her mouth, and dragged them down her legs. Then he groaned himself when he saw the lacy black panties. “Oh, Evie. You naughty girl. You’re wearing the crotchless panties for me.”

A red tinge darkened her cheeks. She pushed up onto her elbows and looked down her half-naked body toward him.

“Spread your legs.”

Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of red, but slowly she lifted one knee and then inched her legs open.

She was already slick and swollen, and he needed to taste her there. To feel her come apart in his mouth.

He grasped her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed. She gasped and tried to hold on to the comforter. “Zane—”

He dropped to his knees, spread the opening in her sexy panties, and ran his tongue up her slit.

“Oh, God.” Her head fell back. She raised her feet and planted them on the edge of the mattress. When he did it again, she lifted her hips slightly. Helping him. Urging him on.

Blood rushed to his groin, and his erection grew harder. Hotter. More insistent. He swirled his tongue around her clit, then dipped down to her opening and did the same. Her body trembled. Another moan echoed from her throat. He licked back up to her clit and circled until her elbows went out from under her. And then he suckled.

Her entire body shook. He knew her orgasm was rushing in. Knew the signs. He ran a finger down her slick center as he tormented her with his mouth, then pressed inside until he found her sweetest spot.

The moan that shook her body echoed through every part of him. She tightened around his finger and rode the wave against his lips as it crashed over her. And when it receded, when she was putty in his arms, he kissed his way back up her body, continuing to tease her with his lips, his tongue, his fingers between her thighs.

“Zane . . .”

He loved that breathless, needy voice. Could listen to it forever. He stripped her of the panties, then leaned forward, pressing his hips between her legs until his cock slid along her hot, slick center.

She groaned. Reached for him, grasping his hips and pulling him closer.

God, she was sexy. And hot. And his. All his. Whether she could say the words or not, she’d only ever be his. Pushing both of her knees up and back to open her even more, he rocked his hips forward, circling her clit with the tip of his cock, loving the sight, loving even more every gasp and groan and sexy little moan she made. “Open your eyes, Evie.”

She blinked several times but finally managed to tear her eyes open. And when they were focused on him, when he knew he was all she could see, he slid lower, to her opening, then pressed forward and filled her.

“Oh . . .” Her tight walls clenched all around him. He groaned and lowered his mouth to hers. Slid out and back in. Her knees pressed against his hips, and her hands clamped down on his ass, pulling him into her. “Kiss me. I need you to kiss me.”

He closed his lips over hers, and the taste of her filled his mouth and heart. His tongue stroked hers as he thrust into her again and again. He tried to take it slow, but every rock of her hips against his, every time her fingernails dug into his ass, every time she tightened around him, he lost a little more of his self-control.

“Eve . . .” Sweat broke out all over his skin, slid down his spine. His balls grew to bursting. He planted a fist against the mattress and drove deeper, faster, harder, needing to take her, fill her, mark her as his own.

She pulled her mouth from his. Groaned, “Do it. I need it. I need you. Come for me, Zane. Now. Right now.”

As if she had some magical control over him, his orgasm raced down his spine, shot through his balls, and exploded through every part of his body. He plunged deep again and again, unable to stop, and then he felt her tighten everywhere and heard her cry out his name when she peaked.

Breathless, he collapsed against her, unable to move. Unable to think. Her legs fell open. Her hands slid up his sweaty back and closed around his shoulders while he fought for air. He felt her lips pressing against his temple, felt her heart racing against his cheek, felt her tantalizing fingers tracing light lines over his back, but it was the warmth closing in around his heart that he focused on. A warmth he’d convinced himself he’d never have. A warmth that came only from her.

Slowly, he pushed up on his hand and looked down at her. Her hair stuck out at all angles, her mascara was smeared beneath her eyes, and she still had dirt and blood and soot across her cheeks, her shoulders, different parts of her sexy little body.

And staring at her, he knew it was more than that “just fucked” look that flushed her cheeks and made her look sexier than any woman he’d ever met. It was everything she’d admitted to him earlier.

A one-sided smile slid across his lips. “You’re a mess.”

She brushed her fingers over her cheek. “I didn’t have a chance to shower like some people.”

His smile widened. Easing back, he slid out of her, then grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the bed.

“Archer!” She gasped. “What do you think you’re doing now?”

“Taking you to the shower. I’ve been fantasizing about a repeat of what we did last night.”

She sucked in a breath, but the look in her eyes said she wasn’t about to protest. She glanced down at his naked chest as he carried her into the bathroom. “I don’t see a belt on you anywhere.”

“Oh, baby. If it involves leather and bondage, you know I’ll find a way to make it work.”

She chuckled as he reached into the massive stone shower with multiple showerheads and flipped on the water. A sigh slid from her lips when he stepped in, still carrying her, and the hot liquid slid over both their bodies. “I’m probably going to regret this tomorrow.”

“Never, Eve.” He lowered her to her feet, lifted his hands, and brushed the wet hair away from her face. “With me, you are never, ever going to regret this. That, I promise.”

Olivia leaned against the wall outside the men’s locker room at the Seattle Athletic Club and looked right and left. Nerves danced in her belly, and she checked each face that passed, reassuring herself none were the men who’d abducted her.

The club was located only a few blocks from Pike Place Market, and the people coming and going in the early evening hours were yuppie city people, not terrorists or kidnappers or any kind of threat.

Her fingers shook as she adjusted the big sunglasses Landon had bought for her, pulled the baseball cap lower over her eyes, and tugged the long-sleeved T-shirt down, hoping no one could see her bruises.

He hadn’t been happy when she’d checked herself out of the hospital, but she couldn’t stay there. Every moment in that room made her feel like a victim, and she refused to be one. She was alive. She’d survived. No matter what they’d done to her, she’d won. And she wasn’t about to let a few days rule the rest of her life.

That’s what her head told her. Her heart was another matter.

Stay tough. Stay strong.

She looked toward the locker room door again, then down at the phone Landon had given her when he’d gone inside, searching for anything to take her mind off remembering. He was everything she should be afraid of after her ordeal. Big. Muscular. Scarred in numerous places. With huge hands he could use to crush her in a second if he wanted. And when she remembered the way he’d gone after those men in that yard before she’d fallen over the fence, she knew she should be terrified of him. But she wasn’t. There was something about him that comforted her. Something that made her feel alive. And right now, she didn’t care who or where that came from. She was hanging on to it like it was her last lifeline.

“Everything okay?”

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice, and she exhaled a breath of relief when she found him standing right in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him come out of the locker room. But she was so glad he was here now. More relieved even than when she’d been freed. “Yes. Did you find it?”

His smile was pure victory when he patted his pocket. “Bingo.”

He closed his hand over her elbow and turned her back toward the front of the club. Heat tingled across her skin. She liked his hands. Liked them against her. Liked the way they made her feel.

People glanced their way. She knew they made an unlikely pair. Her, bruised and frail, and him, buff and muscular. As they moved into the lobby, she found herself wondering if he was married, if he had a girlfriend, or even what kind of woman he was interested in.

Probably one like that brunette over there in the tiny spandex shorts and skimpy sports bra. One with a small waist, huge rack, and voluptuous hips. Not a skinny, small-breasted schoolteacher from Idaho.

She was suddenly aware of the way the clothes he’d brought her at the hospital hung off her frame. She’d always been thin, but she’d lost quite a bit of weight this last week—more than she’d thought. And glancing over the hard bodies around her, she was also achingly aware of the sallowness to her skin, her dirty hair beneath the ball cap, and the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.

No, she definitely wasn’t his type, and she was smart enough to know that what she was feeling for him was hero worship. He’d saved her life. On a normal day, he wasn’t the kind of guy she’d even look twice at. She didn’t even like muscles.

They exited the club and stepped onto Western Avenue. Damp, fresh air from the earlier rain filled her lungs. She looked up the hill to where the car was parked two blocks away.

“Are you okay?” Landon asked at her side.

“What? Yeah.” She wasn’t going to lean on him. She’d already done that too many times to count, and she was determined to be her old self. She started walking. Halfway up the hill, her lungs grew thick and her breath labored. They passed a storefront window, and from the corner of her eye she caught their reflection, but she forced herself not to look closely. She couldn’t, because she knew she wouldn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Right now she needed to focus. Needed to think about Eve. Needed to do anything to keep her mind away from the past.

“We can stop if you’re tired.”

“No,” she huffed, pressing her hands against her knees as she leaned forward and forced her feet to keep moving up the hill. “I’m . . . fine.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Strong arms wrapped around Olivia from behind, and she gasped as her feet left the ground and she found herself cradled against Landon’s muscular chest. She pressed a hand against his bulging pec and then regretted it. It was big. Strong. Safe. “P-put me down.”

“Why? So you can fucking collapse on me?”

Moments in the back of that van rushed through her mind, and she slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head back and forth, digging her fingernails into his muscles. “Don’t swear. Don’t . . . I can’t . . .”

“Okay. Okay, just breathe. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. That’s it. In and out. You’re okay.”

The city seemed to swirl around Olivia, but slowly she realized her feet were on the ground, she was leaning into Landon’s muscular body, and his arms were wrapped tight around her, his hand running up and down her spine in a languid motion, his voice right at her ear, reassuring her with his words and warm breath.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times. He’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and was now leaning back against the wall of a building while she tried to work her way down from a panic attack she couldn’t remember starting. People passed on the busy street. Several glanced their way, but no one stopped. She focused on the push and draw of air in her lungs and the soft brush of his fingers against her spine. Told herself she was safe, that she wasn’t in that van, that she wasn’t going back there. Ever.

“That’s better,” Landon said softly in her ear. “That’s—”

Something in his pocket vibrated. He let go of her and pulled out a phone.

“Damn.” He cringed. “Sorry. I need to take this.”

Olivia nodded and tried to back out of his arms, but he held her tight, not letting her move, and part of her was grateful. She sank back into him while he lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Miller.”

Her cheek pressed against his chest. Warmth seeped from him into her, and the strong, steady beat of his heart calmed her in a way nothing else could.

“Yeah.” His voice echoed through his chest and into her, sending vibrations all through her body. “I know where that is. No, I’ve got her. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’ll have her call from the car when we’re on our way.”

They—whoever he was talking to—were discussing her. The independent thirty-year-old inside told her to suck it up and stop leaning on him, but her body wasn’t listening. And though she knew this was hero worship at its finest, she didn’t care. He smelled too wonderful, felt too good, and for a moment, she needed the comfort.

“Okay. Will do.” He tugged the phone from his ear and slipped it back in his pocket, and then his other arm came around her, holding her close all over again. And she couldn’t fight the sigh that slipped from her lips, or the way she snuggled in tighter and just let him hold her.

“Wh-who was that?” she asked against him, not making any move to pull away.

“My boss,” he answered, not giving her a chance. “Your sister’s at a safe house north of here. If you want to see her, I can take you to her.”

Olivia lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. They weren’t just brown like she’d originally thought. They were a warm, rich chocolate with flecks of gold and green, all swirled together in a mix that made her wonder which was the true him. The way he’d taken her captors out in that yard flashed in her mind, contrasting so strongly with the way he was holding her now, like she was made of glass, like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Part of her could barely believe he was the same person.

But he was. The jagged scar across the side of his face and the other near his chin proved he was more than just her comfort. He was a force not to be crossed. And soon she’d be home, and he would be out of her life for good.

She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about that too much just yet. The thought of going home—to that small house where she’d been grabbed in the first place—left a hole the size of the Grand Canyon right in the middle of her belly. “You’ll take me to Eve?”

“Yes. On one condition. You eat something. Those fluids at the hospital weren’t enough. You need energy.”

Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, but she nodded. She did need to eat. She needed to get stronger. Needed to get better. Needed to forget everything that had happened, so she could stop leaning on him once and for all. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He released her, then swept her into his arms all over again.

This time she didn’t try to wiggle free. “I can walk, you know.”

“I know. But I like this better. Humor me.”

She liked it better too. And if she was going to be with him for only a few more hours, she was going to enjoy every last second.

She settled into him and sighed.