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Authors: Helenkay Dimon

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No way would he touch her more than he was now. He'd wait forever for her to give him the green light to move in, if that's what it took. The choice went with her.

“You can always trust me.” He'd never been more serious in his life.

“I know.”

That had to mean something.

•   •   •

The next morning, still worn out and confused, Kyra headed back to her apartment for a few more personal items. They hadn't worked out anything last night except she agreed to stay over again tonight. He insisted and even promised he wouldn't pressure her for sex. Not knowing what she needed to hear but not wanting to be away from him, she relented. Though she'd bet sex would move back onto the menu if she gave him even the slightest sign she welcomed it, which she did.

Just as she opened the front door to let herself into her place, the same one that struck her as small and a bit crappy now, Gena popped up in her doorway across the hall.

She slipped out of her place with her keys jangling on a ring around her finger. “Where have you been?”

“At Bast's house.”

Gena followed Kyra inside and closed the door behind her. “That sounds serious. Like, maybe you've moved past sex and onto something bigger.”

“I don't know what it is.”

And that was the truth. They had something. A man didn't hold on tight enough all night to suffocate you as he whispered sweet words into your hair and not feel something. At least in sleep he wanted to keep her close.

“I need to talk with you.”

“Not now.” Kyra had so much on her mind. Some of it mostly good, like Bast, and some a tickling reminder of her rough past. Her father kept calling and she kept ignoring, and it was all getting to be too much.

“There's something you need to know.” Usually chatty and open, Gena's body language was all closed down today. She wore a bulky sweater in summer and wrapped her arms around her as if she straddled the line between warm and freezing. Even her voice bobbled as she spoke, as if she were under the most intense pressure.

“After I've slept. Really.” Kyra looked at her friend. Really looked. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was drawn. Gone was the laughing and trading gossip about people in the building.

Something bad had happened and she missed it. A kick of guilt settled in Kyra's belly. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“No offense, but you don't look it.”

Gena closed her eyes for a second. “I'm serious, Kyra. Maybe you should slow down with Bast.” Gena leaned against the dresser. “I mean, you guys are living together already and it's been, what, about two weeks.”

As with a knee-jerk reaction, Kyra felt the need to defend and explain. “We've known each other for a very long time.”

“Is that the test?”

“We're not living together.” But that's what Kyra wanted. In a short time, she discovered her crush had blown into something more. Her need for him appeared never ending . . . and wasn't that a giant pain in the ass.

Gena rubbed her hands together, then through her hair. She was a ball of nerves and Kyra had no idea why.

“What do you call what you guys have?” Gena asked. “Is it dating or a boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

“It's informal.” Secretive, confusing, exhausting and exhilarating.

“So, it's sex only.”

The conclusion scraped across Kyra's nerve endings. “I don't know what it is.”

“Well, then it can't be that important.”

“Problem is, I think it's grown to mean everything.” Not think, know. And that one word change guaranteed heartache.

A deeper sadness moved into Gena's eyes. “Kyra—”

Kyra held up her hand to stop her friend's warning. “Yeah, I know. I'm screwed.”

“I'm worried about you.”

Kyra had to be honest. “So am I.”

TWENTY-F
O
UR

Bast sat on a barstool at the club and experienced what could only be described as women trouble. He didn't have the patience for this today. Not any day, but
really
not today. The rocky patch with Kyra threw him. Now he had to deal with Natalie.

Good thing Becca and Jarrett hovered on the other side of the bar as reinforcements. Except for them, and Elijah and Gabe waiting on the opposite side of the room by the exit, the club was empty at this time of the day.

The people there represented a serious amount of collective firepower. Bast guessed it would take all those weapons experts plus his lawyering skills to talk some sense into Natalie. But right now she looked very unimpressed with his argument.

He tried again. “Someone broke into your house.”

Sneaked in, searched everything but barely moved things around, planted a listening device and hid in the alley, planning to do God knew what. She may have found out the hard way if Gabe hadn't booby-trapped the place to tell if anyone broke in. Once he realized what happened, he stayed inside with Natalie while his brother, who was also Gabe's partner, spotted the guy in the alley and grabbed him.

Not that any of it impressed Natalie. Even now she sat next to Bast on a barstool and flipped a round silver coaster around between her fingers. “Your guard dog has a big mouth.”

Bast bit back a string of profanity. “His name is Gabe and it's good he was there.”

“Do you forget I am a trained field agent?” she asked with a frown that suggested everyone would be wise to remember.

“Honestly?” With a snap, Jarrett twisted off the cap to his water bottle. “It's hard to when you mention it every two seconds.”

“You're not funny.”

Bast had reached his limit. “And for a brilliant woman you are being pretty damn dumb.”

“Oh, that's smooth.” Becca sighed and shook her head and ran through a whole list of “men are idiots” gestures as she walked around the bar to Bast's side and tapped him on the shoulder. “Why don't you and your big brain switch places with me? Let me take a shot at this.”

Natalie shifted on her seat, uncrossing her legs and making room for Becca to sit down. “Thank you for calling him off. All that arguing he does gives me a headache. He just keeps at it until you'll do anything to shut him up.”

Becca snorted. “As if you're the only one who's ever wanted to put a bullet in those two.”

“What did I do?” Jarrett held out his arms with the water bottle still in one hand.

“Quiet.” Becca said without looking at the man she called the love of her life. “Look, Natalie. We're not best friends. There are times I wanted to throw you off a building—”

“Wait a second.” Bast jumped in before the conversation turned into a fistfight. Maybe he talked a lot but he didn't attack. Not usually. “How is this helping?”

“I assume you know what quiet means.” Becca didn't break eye contact with Natalie but aimed her comment directly at Bast. “If the two of us women got together, you guys wouldn't stand a chance.”

No doubt that was true. And Bast got the strategy. Becca searched for common ground with the woman who was once her CIA contact. They'd both been in the field and wrestled with the old-boy network at the agency. If anyone could get through to Natalie, it would probably be Becca.

But Bast needed her to pick up the speed. Gabe wanted to get Natalie out and that meant fast-forwarding this process.

“You know this game. Hell, you helped create this game. No easy way out—remember telling me that when I started with Spectrum?” Becca asked, referring to the name of her last cover assignment with Elijah before they both got out. “But the reality is it can be done. You showed Bast how to beat the system for my sake, now let him work it for you.”

“He thinks he gets to give the orders.” Natalie glared at Bast as she talked.

Becca nodded. “Totally annoying, I get that. This one time, let him take the lead. Go spend some alone time with that bit of hotness standing with Elijah.”

“I'm right here and can hear you,” Jarrett said in a dry tone.

“We see you, babe.” Becca winked at him then returned her gaze to Natalie. “You probably haven't taken a day off since you started working. You're overdue.”

“Gabe is talking about going to a cabin.” Natalie shared that bit of information with the same enthusiasm people used to describe dental surgery.

But the sharing was a problem. Even that small scrap was too much. Bast had no choice but to issue a warning before she spilled more details. “Don't say anything else.”

“I know what a cover is, Bast. I'm not going to tell you where it is. Hell, I don't even know. Your boy expects me to climb in his truck and be quiet. Probably wants to blindfold me.”

Becca shrugged. “Look at the guy. That could be fun.”

“Nothing about this is fun.”

Bast didn't want to know anything about Gabe's personal life or Natalie's sex life or if there was anything between them. He did want to make a point. Stepping out from behind the bar, he came to a stop next to Becca and focused all of his energy on Natalie. “I get that you hate this. For the record, I'm determined to finish off this negotiation and keep everyone safe, and do it as quickly as possible. You know the people I'm dealing with at the agency. They don't move fast on these things.”

“You ever get tired of riding in with the white hat and saving the day?” Natalie asked.

Bast didn't think it was a real question, so he didn't treat it as one. “Who would get tired of that?”

“Fine, but get it done. Stop with your extracurricular activities—”

Bast felt his breath punch out of him. “Excuse me?”

Natalie lowered her head and stared unblinking at him. “You heard me.”

Kyra
. Natalie somehow knew about his relationship with Kyra. Bast didn't even know how that was possible. Unless . . . he glanced over at Becca. “What did you tell her?”

She held her hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Natalie knows everything. Always has, but this wasn't from me. She's spooky like that.”

More like nosy. Natalie gathered every bit of information and stored it away for later use. Bast knew that from experience. He didn't like his sex life being a topic she collected intel on.

He wanted to poke around but decided to breeze over the topic because now was not the time. “Your case has my full attention. Trust me.”

“Make it happen.” Natalie slid off the barstool. “And soon.”

He was sure as hell trying. “You know the drill. No contact, no movement, no researching, no footprints.”

She shot him a you've-got-to-be-kidding look. “I know what it means to go dark.”

“And listen to Gabe.” Bast guessed that would be a tougher sell.

Becca snorted. “I'd do more than listen to him.”

Jarrett held up a hand. “Still standing right here.”

Bast ignored the byplay between Becca and Jarrett and focused on getting his message through to Natalie. “You'll be back and going to Georgetown for coffee in no time.”

For a second Natalie didn't say anything, then she nodded. “Right.”

Before Bast could offer any other advice she'd probably ignore, she walked away. With sure steps she walked up to Gabe and Elijah, hesitating only long enough to nod and keep going. Gabe caught her in mid-exit and walked out with his body angled in front of hers.

Bast watched it all, knowing he'd picked the right man to guard Natalie. She was tough and determined but no one gave Gabe shit.

“Think it will be that easy to get this done for her?” Becca asked.

It hadn't been so far. “When did I use the word ‘easy'?”

“I'll escort them out.” Becca squeezed Bast's elbow. “I'm sure you and Jarrett can find something to talk about.”

Jarrett balanced his hands on the edge of the bar. “Are you really going out there to get a better look at Gabe's ass?”

Becca wagged her finger at Jarrett to come closer, then she grabbed onto his tie. “I'm very happy just looking at your ass.”

When they started to kiss, Bast was ready to head back to the office. “Maybe I should leave.”

“Stay,” Jarrett ordered before treating Becca to one last kiss and watching her walk away. He turned to Bast. “Drink?”

“Club soda.” Bast didn't drink much and never during the middle of the day. Knowing Jarrett had struggled with alcohol in the past caused Bast to lose some interest in it.

“I'll make it two.” Jarrett poured the drinks and slid one in front of Bast. “So, how are things really going with Natalie's negotiation?”

“I used the leverage.” Bast swirled the glass, letting the ice cubes clink together. “I know it wasn't easy to agree to let an operative be a member here, and I appreciate you kicking that piece in.”

That's what the CIA wanted, eyes and ears in Jarrett's club. Undercover and quiet. No raids, just for intel-collecting purposes on foreign threats and international members. The folks in charge were smart enough to know that without someone on the inside, Jarrett would turn some information over but hold a bunch back. This way, the CIA had access. But it only happened because Jarrett agreed and there was no question he would find a way to limit exposure.

“To be honest, I've always assumed the CIA had someone planted here, despite the questionable legality. If so, why not have a guy hanging out here I know about and have some control over?”

Leave it to Jarrett to spin this to his own advantage. Bast loved that about the guy. “The computer billionaire, the one who always sits by himself and is playing on that tablet, is suspect to me.”

“It's more likely to be someone who blends in better, like the guy who owns the actuarial firm.” Jarrett took a long sip. “He's friendly, but not too friendly. Talks with people but never offers information. Has a career not many would ask that many questions about anyway.”

“Either way, thanks.”

Jarrett drained the glass and set it on the bar. “I owe Natalie. She cleared the way for me to be with Becca.”

“And then there's the part where you hate the people in charge at the CIA and are always happy to do something that fucks them over.”

Jarrett smiled at that. “It doesn't make me sad to trap the higher-ups into letting Natalie walk away. I'm sure that pisses off more than one useless suit over there.”

“From my meetings, I can assure you no one is happy.” The men in charge had gone from denial, to assurances about how much they admired Natalie and her work, to claims she was a security risk.

“They threatening you?” Jarrett asked.

“The usual ‘we'll lock you away and no one will know where' stuff.” Bast had heard it all before. Talk of having him disbarred and how bad it would be if he ran afoul of the law and ended up in prison. If he were younger and greener, the threats might have stuck. But now he had contingencies and leverage and far more power than he had when he started this career.

“Jesus.” Jarrett shook his head. “Our Constitution at work.”

“Yeah, but it's garbage like this that pays my mortgage.”

“Speaking of which, you doing okay?”

The question, delivered in a calm voice, put Bast on high alert. “Sure.”

“Lena still hanging around?”

Bast knew his ex-wife was one of Jarrett's least favorite subjects. Him bringing it up meant he was fishing for something. Bast treaded carefully. “I know it pisses you off but she does live in the same town and we know the same people.”

“I wish she'd move on and leave you alone.”

Bast knew that was code for:
do not get back together with her
. “We're over.”

They were long over, never to return. Lena came around, they talked and, yeah, he gave her money from time to time. None of it bothered Bast. He viewed it as the price he paid for getting out of the marriage. For not loving her the way she needed to be loved.

Since Kyra didn't seem to mind, Bast didn't have any plans to change his ways of operating. Though he wasn't about to analyze why having it be okay with Kyra made it okay in general.

“You moving on?” Jarrett refilled his glass and topped off Bast's.

“Jarrett, I swear. I'm not still in love with her.”

He slammed the bottle down on the bar. “Jesus, you are going to make me ask you straight up.”

“What?”

Jarrett wrapped his fingers around the edge of the bar and leaned in. “When did you start sleeping with Kyra?”

Fuck
. Even though he knew this was coming, Bast didn't duck in time. He thought they'd pivoted onto Lena. Little did he know that was subterfuge for circling around to a topic on Kyra.

“How did you . . . Becca.” He knew Jarrett should have heard it from him. He should have fessed up before Becca filled Jarrett in. “I knew she'd tell you.”

“First,
you
should have told me.” Jarrett leveled a man-to-man look at Bast. “Second, she knew for a few days before I confronted her with my suspicions about you and Kyra.”

Looked like Elijah was right. Jarrett knew all along, which made not telling him even more of a shit move. Still, Bast wanted to know how. “Why were you suspicious?”

“The look.” Serious, tough Jarrett made a goofy face complete with big eyes and sticking his tongue out. “The one you get.”

Bast refused to believe he ever looked like that. He also vowed never to smile again. “You, too?”

“Man, it is obvious.”

“Now you sound like Elijah.”

Jarrett leaned in farther. “Fucking Eli knew and you didn't tell me? Explain that.”

“I'm sorry. I should have told you but I didn't really know how to say it. You've known Kyra forever and think of her as a sister.” Bast swallowed because the next part pricked at him. Even after the sex and being with her and wanting more time with her, this part made him wince. “That made me the sick creep who moved in on her.”

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