Intimate Enemies (44 page)

More than once over the past several weeks, he’d debated which would be more humane—to see her again and explain, or to disappear and let her forget he ever existed. Let her heal. He’d like to think he was a big enough person to let her go. Strong enough to let her move on with her life, even if that meant moving on without him. But…he wasn’t. He’d never stop her from walking away or beg her to stay or screw up her life any more than he already had, but, no matter how long he lived, part of him would never, ever let her go.

He wouldn’t ever blame her for not wanting him now. He’d be shocked if she did. After all the lies, all the manipulation, all the smoke and mirrors… What did they have to build on without basic trust?

She didn’t have all her answers yet, but she would soon. As soon as debriefing was over. And when she knew…everything…how could she forgive him for his involvement? How could she not wonder if he could have done more to save Alejandra and Santos? And how could Rio live with her, knowing she wondered? It would eventually tear them apart. Rio had all but resigned himself to the fact that it would be far better to end things here, now, than to drag them out and hurt each other all over again three months, six months, a year down the road, when the reality could no longer be ignored.

Yes, he’d had weeks to all but resign himself. Only, he hoped he could follow through when he saw her, because every time he tried to play it through in his mind, his virtual self dropped to his knees and groveled.

Rio turned toward Kollman’s office and slogged down the corridor again, a heavy hand on the railing.
Mother of God
, he needed those pain meds. Only right now, he needed them for his heart, not his body.

The door stood ajar, and Rio approached, thinking this would be one hell of a long day when he heard it—Cassie’s voice.

“What in the hell is going on?”

Rio froze three feet from the door. His stomach turned to ice. His throat closed. No, not now. He wasn’t ready to face her now. God, no. He hadn’t thought of what he wanted to say. Hadn’t prepared himself for her anger, her rejection. Hadn’t fully convinced himself to actually follow through with seeing her again.

Shit.

He looked over his shoulder, back down the corridor. Irony struck him hard. He stood ten feet from the woman he loved more than anything, a woman he’d risked his life for and would do it again without a second thought, a woman he longed to spend the rest of his life with if she’d just have him, and what was his first reaction to the sound of her voice? To run.

Could he be any more gutless?

“Where’s Rio?”

Cassie’s voice carried stronger than anyone else’s, and she was the only woman in the room. It should have been the opposite. Though, Rio almost smiled, she probably had a stronger will than all the others present combined.

“I don’t care who you all really are or who you all really work for. I just want to know…why the hell isn’t Rio here with you?”

Her voice rose. Took on a panicked edge. Rio’s amusement vanished.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

No. No!
His mind pushed forward, into the room, but his body remained frozen in the hallway, his heart, he realized, waiting for an indication of Cassie’s response after someone verified that he was indeed alive. Only no one did. The room went silent. And his cowardly lion heart took the tin-man brave leap, because she
did
mean everything to him, and even one more moment of additional stress for her was too much.

He limped into the room, held the doorframe for support. His gaze instantly closed in on her, a slight frame in a room of large men. Cassie stood by the windows next to Mike, her head bent, her hand covering her eyes. The sight of her made his muscles go soft, made him ache to the bone. She wore slim jeans, a lacy red cardigan over a white tank. Her hair fell in a shiny, black waterfall down her back.

His gaze fastened on the cast covering her left arm, fingers to shoulder, and the weight of guilt crushed his swollen heart.

She leaned against Mike and choked out, “Someone just say it, for God’s sake.”

Rio glared at the silent group of men in the room. They looked back with helpless shrugs. They were prohibited to talk about him.
Fuckers
.

He focused on Cassie with a combination of resignation, guilt, and so much love he didn’t know what to do with it all.

“Cassie,” Rio said. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Her hand dropped, her eyes slid open, and her head turned toward him. Slowly. Like she was moving underwater. Like her mind wasn’t fully engaged. When she finally focused on him, her jaw dropped open. He thought she’d say something, but nothing came out. Then she flicked glances at everyone in the room as if performing a reality check, finally looking up at Mike.

She made a strangled sound in her throat and rolled her face into Mike’s chest.

Christ. He hadn’t expected her to jump into his arms or anything—okay, there might have been a sliver of hope left—but he hadn’t expected her to cringe when she finally saw him again either.

Mike wrapped her in his arms and sent Rio a wry smile. “I always feel a little like that when I see you too, dude.”

Cassie was shaking when she turned her gaze up to Mike again, the fine red sweater trembling down her back where it hung loose. “Is he…is he…?”

Mike’s brows dropped together. He shot a look at Rio, then smiled down at Cassie. “Real? Yes, honey. He is authentic, one hundred percent pain-in-the-ass Rio. Your head is not playing games with you today.”

Cassie’s body sagged on a whimper.

Mike held her up, shooting a look at Rio with a shrug. “Hallucinations. Dreams. Her head’s still kinda…messed up.”

The tightness around Rio’s heart intensified. He limped toward her. Mike took her by the waist and turned her toward Rio. Rio reached out and curled his fingers around hers. They were so thin, so fragile.

“Baby, you’re cold.”

She lifted her gaze from their joined hands, and this time, she saw him. Really saw him.

“Rio,” she breathed his name in a combination of pain and gratitude. Relief, complete and overwhelming, drifted through her eyes a split second before they rolled back in her head and she sagged into Mike’s arms.

Panic choked him. He reached for her even as Mike went down on one knee while stabilizing her cast.

“Cassie?” Rio put one hand against her face, the other at the pulse on her throat. “Cassie?”

“Relax, Rio.” Mike said. “She just fainted.”

“
Just
fainted? There is no
just
to fainting.” Not when they were talking about Cassie.

He struggled to trade places with Mike and sat on the floor, holding Cassie’s head in his lap.

“God, she’s so pale. She’s clammy and thin and…shit.” He glared up at Mike. “You said you were taking care of her.”

Mike grinned. “I think you got a taste of how easy she is to take care of down in Mexico.”

“Cass?” Rio tapped her face gently. “Come on, baby.”

She murmured. Her head rocked to the opposite side.

“She’s coming around.” Kollman started toward the door. “I don’t want to be here when she wakes up and wants to chew someone’s ass. She’s already gnawed mine to the bone. Come on.” He gestured toward the door. “CIA’s buying lunch today.”

Raymie lifted his brows toward Xavier. “We are?”

“It’s your turn to expense it,” Xavier said.

Kollman gripped Javier’s shoulder and walked out of the office. “Least you could do for all the trouble you caused.” He glanced back at Rio. “We’ll bring you something back for lunch. Be ready to start debrief at two p.m. sharp.”

After they’d filed out of the office, Rio leaned against the chair behind him and simply stared at Cassie. Soaked in the sight of her. The heartbeat at her throat. The spray of black lashes across her cheekbone.

He ran his fingers from her temple to her jaw with tears of gratitude stinging his eyes. “My God, I’ve missed you.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and pain grabbed his ribs. He had to settle for laying his lips on her forehead and inhaling the scent of roses. The first smile he’d felt in weeks tilted his mouth.

Cassie murmured and stirred. Rio pulled back as her lids fluttered open. His happiness shifted into apprehension as she gave him that hundred-yard stare, then flicked glances around the room again, then returned to him. Fear and confusion filled her gaze.

“Oh my God.” Her breathing stuttered.

She struggled to a partially upright position, and Rio had to fight himself not to hold on to her, a panicky desperation already creeping in. She scanned his chest, grabbed the bottom of his dress shirt, and yanked it from his pants.

Pain shot up his side. He flinched and grabbed her wrist. “Damn. Easy, baby.”

Her gaze darted back to his face, scrutinizing, as if she couldn’t believe he’d reacted. She dropped his shirt and brought her hand to his face. Frantic, shaking fingers touched him everywhere—forehead, cheek, jaw, mouth.

Her touch drained the tension and fear from his body. He covered her hand with his and closed his eyes. The press of her lips jolted him. As anxious as her fingers, she kissed his mouth, cheek, temple, forehead, eyelids, all while whimpering in shocked pleasure.

Rio’s heart heated and swelled until his entire chest hurt. Need took control. He stilled her face between his hands and kissed her mouth. When she kissed him back with all her characteristic passion, Rio lost himself, opened to her, and drank her in.

She broke away abruptly, mid-kiss, leaving Rio dizzy.

“What…how did you…?”

She was searching his body again, gaze much clearer now, which sent the sting of panic down Rio’s chest. With a jerk of fabric, she lifted his shirt again and smoothed her hand over his injury, fingers tracing the outline of his bandage.

“You were bleeding. I couldn’t get to you. My arm, I couldn’t move… And Javier, he wouldn’t let me…”

She trailed off. Her gaze clouded over. And as realization dawned, the softness drained from her expression. Her jaw hardened, gaze narrowed. She sat fully upright. When she spoke, her words were choppy and breathless. “Where…the hell…have you
been
?”

His stomach chilled with dread. This was where the hard part began. She was who she was—strong, intelligent, demanding, ethical, principled, loyal. Those were all the things he loved about her. Those were also all the things that would come between them now.

He brushed away the hair in her eyes, guilt eating his insides. “The Naval Medical Center.”

She rolled to her knees and struggled to stand. He reached out to help her, but she slapped his hand away. The rejection hurt far deeper than the sting.

He pushed to his feet, the ache in his body making him slow.

She glared at him with so much emotion it made his stomach cramp. “That’s where I was,” she said. “Where they took me. Did you know that?”

He tucked his shirttail back into his pants, gritting his teeth against his answer, but he’d sworn to himself he’d never tell her another lie. “Yes.”

“Where? Right down the hall from me?”

He decided not answering that would be the best plan of action.

“All I wanted to know was that you were
alive
. That’s
all
I wanted.”

He could have made excuses—guards, twenty-four-hour monitoring, no phone, no Internet, no outside contact—but he didn’t. “I wanted to let you know. I would have if there had been any possible way.”

Her lips tightened, face creased in pain. She dropped her head into her hand and rubbed her temple.

Rio reached for her in an automatic need to soothe. She stepped back but hit the wall, leaving her within reach. His hand landed on cold plaster and sent a chill through his chest.

“How’s…your arm?” A stupid, inane question to fill the incredibly painful, awkward space.

“Broken,” she bit out, more anguished than angry. “Four places. Two surgeries. Eight titanium pins. Imagine the trouble I’m going to have with airport security for the rest of my life.”

He bit the inside of his lip, unable to pick up the sarcastic attempt at humor for the weight of swamping guilt. Guilt that backed into sickness. Sickness that backed into fury. Fury he could direct nowhere but back at himself. But he had to focus. This was about Cassie now. Not him. Not a bad guy. Not a mission. This was all about Cassie.

“Will you be able to…” he started, then changed directions. “What did the doctor say?”

“What, you didn’t get intelligence reports while you were in the hospital?”

Tense silence encircled them, a chasm he didn’t know how to bridge. And he so deserved every scrap of her fury.

“
Three weeks
, Rio,” she said. “
Three fucking weeks
.”

His jaw pulsed. He nodded.

“God dammit!” She straightened and fisted her good hand. “I can’t even be mad at you about it. That makes me even more pissed. And I can’t just
get over it
either.”

He huffed a dry laugh. “Cass, you’ve got so many other reasons to hate me. Just roll them all together.”

“We need to talk about that.” She turned toward the window, crossed her arm over her chest, and supported her cast. “There are things I need to know.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then made a slow, painful path to the leather sofa at her side and eased onto it. Cassie’s body was strung so tight just looking at her made Rio ache. He needed to just hammer through this, get it out of the way so they could move on.

“Shoot,” he said.

“You have to be honest.” She cut him a look. “I’ll find out if you’re not.”

He nodded. “One hundred and fifty percent honest, one hundred and fifty percent of the time…from now on. Promise.”

A flash of softness hinted in her expression. She pressed her lips together before she looked out the window again. Silence settled over them. She took a deep breath that shifted her shoulders.

“Mamà and Santos. I know Saul killed them. The Harbor Patrol released the incident report. I know Saul cut the fuel line. Know his fingerprints… ” She stopped, breathing unsteady. Tears spilled over her lashes. “What…happened? How could I not have known it was all going so bad?”