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“We've talked about this, the whole not wanting to be the stereotypical guys going after hot young women then casting them aside. So, what's going on? Is this just sex?”

Bast remembered the conversation and how it arose, right after his father's third divorce. His father chased younger women. If the age dropped much more, the women would be high school girls. He wasn't alone. Powerful men all over town did it.

Now Bast fell into the category and it made him sick. But what he felt for Kyra was not just lust or a drive for more sex. It started there and he'd wanted it to stay there, but the whole relationship spun out of his control and now he didn't know how to grab it back.

He exhaled, hating every minute of this topic. “No.”

Jarrett's eyebrow lifted. “So, it's more than sex?”

“No . . . I don't . . .” Bast refused to minimize it. To minimize her. But it
should
only be sex. “Damn it, Jarrett. I don't know what it is.”

Jarrett pushed back and stood up straight. Didn't say a word.

“What?” Bast felt a weird ache in his chest. “You think I'm a shit. You can say it.”

“We've known each other a long time. I watched your marriage blow up, watched you fall apart—”

“I didn't.”

“You slept on my couch for three fucking weeks.” Jarrett's voice grew louder with each word. “You want me to remind you about those days. About how leaving your marriage nearly destroyed you, even though you were right to go. Hell, you waited too long to go.”

“I remember those days.” They dragged by and even getting off the couch had hurt.

“Then you buried it all under a bunch of nameless female bodies. Had sex, played around, lived up to the rumors about you needing to be with multiple women at one time.” Jarrett stopped. It was as if all the anger blew right out of him. “And now you're with one woman . . . right?”

Bast wasn't sure what just happened or what Jarrett was trying to prove, but no way was Bast going to lie about this part. “Just Kyra. I don't want anyone else.”

“Well, seems to me that says something.” The seriousness cleared from Jarrett's face and the expression left behind was more than a little amused. “Maybe she really means something to you.”

The dam broke. The words and thoughts poured out of Bast before he could sanitize them or word them in the “right” way. “I thought it would be quick and fun. We'd have sex a few times, her crush would disappear and we'd end it and move on.”

“But?”

“One night she didn't stay at my place and I went over to fetch her. To her apartment at something insane like three in the morning. I mean, what the fuck is that? Since when do I do that shit.” Bast knew he could tell Jarrett anything, but the guy didn't have to look so damn smug when hearing it. “Stop smiling.”

“Sounds to me like you have it bad for her, which is weird and great at the same time.”

Bast fell back on the easy argument. “She's twenty-three.”

“You knew that when you slept with her the first time, so don't use it as an excuse now.” Jarrett took another drink. “Besides, she'll only get older. Unfortunately, so will you.”

“Shut up.” Really, the guy needed to shut up.

“Piss and moan all you want but I happen to know a little about relationships.”

“Because you're stupid in love with Becca?” Bast stood up because the weird spinning inside his gut had him needing to move. He didn't get far in his pacing.

“Is ‘love' relevant to your situation with Kyra?”

He should say no. A flat-out denial. But the word wouldn't come. “I have no idea.”

“Of course you do. You're a smart guy.”

Bast rested his hands on the bar and dropped his head between his shoulders. “Don't feel like it right now.”

“Wait until Wade gets done with you.”

“He doesn't know.” No way. He would have swooped in and demanded answers if he'd known.

“I saw him watching you and Kyra the other night. Trust me, he knows.”

The words just added to the stress building inside Bast. “Shit.”

“If you're so worried about people finding out, maybe you should walk away from her. Let her go find a nice grad school boy when school starts in a few weeks.”

“Fuck you.” Bast lifted his head and took in Jarrett's expression. “Really, man, stop smiling.”

“I can't.”

“Try.”

“The idea of you in love again is as shocking as me being in love. But, hell, you deserve it.” Jarrett's smile faded. “Seriously though, your timing stinks. This Natalie situation is dangerous, which means anyone near you is at risk.”

Bast stood up again. A new wave of anxiety hit him and he reached for the stool to sit down again. “So Kyra being with me means she could be, too.”

“Potentially.”

“So, I should let her go.” The thought made him want to heave up his breakfast. He actually had to choke back the bile rushing up his throat.

Jarrett's mouth dropped open and he shook his head. “God, you're a dumbass right now.”

“Meaning?” He could move her in with Wade or . . . hell, something. Bast had no idea how to explain it all to her. She knew pieces about Becca's former life but had no idea about the danger or the CIA angle, and Natalie's case was not up for discussion.

“Figure out the best way to keep Kyra safe and do it fast.” Jarrett downed the last of his glass. “And I'd be careful not to piss her off while you do it or then you'll have a huge mess on your hands. Been there.”

Bast remembered Jarrett's messed-up road of getting back together with Becca and how it tore his friend up. No. Thank. You.

Reaching for his glass, Bast wished it held something more than club soda. “I'm open to any suggestion.”

“Not giving you one, but watching you stumble through this will be interesting.”

Bast feared “stumbling” was the exactly right word.

Kyra turned the corner and stopped at Bast's office door. His space sat at the end of a private hallway with an open area for his assistant outside and a conference room on the opposite end of the floor. With the assistant at lunch, the receptionist showed Kyra back. That's when she caught a glimpse through the glass double doors down the hall of a familiar brunette standing and talking on the phone.

Bast got up when Kyra stepped inside. Stood and buttoned his coat, because that's what he did. Normally she found the automatic gesture sexy and sweet. Not today.

“Was that Lena?”

He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

The thing where he answered her questions with an unrelated one of his own made Kyra's back teeth snap together. “So we're skipping the part where I asked what
she
was doing here?”

He motioned for Kyra to sit down and slipped into his chair. “Business stuff.”

Noncommittal, nonresponsive. This was starting to get old. “I'll stand.”

“Is something wrong?”

Her, them, everything. She knew he viewed her role as one where she sat and waited for him to call, was ready for sex and some conversation. Nothing too taxing and all on his terms. Maybe she agreed to that at the beginning—though she refused to admit that was the case—but she wanted more now. She deserved more.

“You canceled lunch.” She'd been surprised when he lay in bed last night and offered the outing today. It meant taking her in public. Making a stand.

Dumping her via telephone made her think the suggestion was a spur-of-the-moment guilt thing that he regretted first thing this morning, leading to this standoff. And that's exactly what this was.

She felt twitchy and uncomfortable. When she looked at him, she saw this stiff guy who gave her limited eye contact and mentally pushed her aside. She hated the change. Hated how easy it was for him to compartmentalize and lock her out of parts of his life.

Reality was she craved more time with him, to be a bigger part of his life. She now realized that what she wrote off as an attraction and maybe a crush had been something much deeper. She'd loved him from afar forever and now that she was with him, she needed more. But it seemed like the more she gave, the more he panicked, and she had no idea how to resolve that.

So, standoff it would be.

“I'm plowed under with work.” He shifted piles of paperwork around on his desk.

The man was a machine when it came to logging long hours. That excuse would always sit between them. Despite that, she didn't resent his job or his work ethic. They were part of who he was. The emotional shutdown aspect was the one she hated.

“What's going on with you?” she asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.

He focused on her then. Stopped shuffling and moving in his chair and really looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I hate when you use that tone.”

“It's my work tone,” he fired back with an even more intense version of the stern, disapproving voice.

“Are we back to that . . . or am I being punished for not ignoring your behavior last night?” That's the only thing she could think of because the man who apologized and held her all night was not this distant guy.

“I apologized for the car thing.”

Thing?
“Yet you're acting weird today. Is this the part where you start to push me away?”

The words stuck in her throat, but she got them out. When the time came to end it, she figured he'd give her some sort of “that was fun but it's done” speech and escort her out in a charming way that left her with good memories and an overflowing of sadness. Not that chivalrous behavior would make losing him any better.

If that was happening, she'd have to walk out to keep from breaking down. No way would she let him see her crumble.

She folded her arms over her stomach and tried to assess his mood. As she shifted her weight back and forth, a presence loomed over her shoulder. Bast glanced there and shook his head. Someone walked in. Kyra vowed if she turned around and saw Lena, there would be a diva explosion the firm's staff would be talking about a year from now.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Elijah winced when Kyra glanced at him. “I'll come back.”

“No, stay.” This was the wrong time and wrong place for this conversation. If she was going to hash it out with Bast, let him know what he was missing by letting her go, there would be shouting, which meant they needed privacy. “I'm leaving.”

“You okay?”

She studied Elijah then. The black hair and dark eyes. Something about his cheekbones. The pieces that spoke to his Asian ancestry. She thought Bast had said Eli's mother was Japanese. He was handsome and the furrowed brow suggested he was concerned for her.

No wonder Wade loved this guy, and she was pretty sure he did. Elijah might come off as removed and tough, but there was something compelling deep down. She hoped Wade could find his way back to Eli again.

“It's funny how you notice there's a problem and he can't.” She hitched her thumb in Bast's direction.

Bast came around the desk to join them in the middle of his office. “There's no need to involve Elijah in this.”

“Oh, right. Secrecy is the name of the game.” She winked but inside she felt empty and cold. “Got it.”

“I'll be in my office.”

Eli took a step back and she grabbed his arm. “Do not move.”

He cleared his throat. “All right.”

No need for him to go. She was leaving. Running out and not looking back. Coming here had been a mistake—again. Amazing how the man who meant so much and could make her feel so loved in bed could distance himself so easily in public.

She turned to leave but Bast's voice stopped her. “I'll call you later.”

“You're not coming over?” She asked even though she knew the answer—no.

He hesitated then shook his head. “I'm not sure.”

“And, let me guess, you don't want me at your house tonight.” That was a first. They hadn't been apart in the evenings since the beginning. The one time she tried to get some distance and find some perspective, he came hunting for her. Now he wanted space.

“Kyra.” That's all. Just her name said like a warning.

Yeah, this had to be the end. “It's fine. Message received.”

•   •   •

Bast watched her go and had to fight to stand still. The talk with Jarrett had him thinking and worrying. There wasn't an easy answer to making sure she stayed safe. Maybe increasing the distance and letting her spend more time in her normal life made sense until he finished Natalie's negotiation. It would give him a hell of an incentive to get it all resolved fast. But he hated the idea of giving her space.

When the silence wound around him, he stopped staring at the empty doorway and glanced at Elijah. “What?”

“Nothing.” But his expression said something. Gone was his usual icy detachment. Eli seemed to be brimming with energy and ready to pounce.

“Say it.” Not that Bast was all that sure he wanted to hear whatever thoughts ran through Eli's head at the moment.

He made a clicking sound with his tongue. And kept doing it until Bast thought his head would explode.

Eli spoke up just in time. “Pushing her away isn't the right answer.”

“You're an expert on love now?” Bast couldn't believe he used the word and hoped Elijah would run right over it.

“I know when a guy is doing something dumb in order to protect someone else. I'm the king of asshole moves when it comes to men. Ask Wade.”

Hiding something from Eli was not easy. For a guy everyone believed was clueless in the people relations department, Bast was amazed how often Eli's insights were dead-on. And him mentioning Wade didn't happen very often. Bast knew Eli only went there because he thought he needed to, which meant one thing: Bast had fucked up and badly.

“I'm trying to put her in a safe place.” Bast moved around to his chair but didn't sit down. He rested a hand on the back and stood still.

“You think not seeing her will keep those CIA-hired goons from going after her.” Elijah shook his head. “But it's way too late. They've likely had someone on you since you negotiated my deal weeks and weeks ago. They know you're sleeping with her. They know where she lives and that getting to her will kill you.”

Bast's insides turned icy cold. “She's not part of this.”

“Any pressure they can apply they will. You need to keep her close, not shove her away.”

A wave of panic washed over the chill. “You couldn't have told me this ten minutes ago?”

“How was I supposed to know you were going to make such a big misfire?”

“I can catch her.” Bast bolted around the desk, narrowly missing slamming his thigh into the corner and pushed Elijah out of the way on the way to the door.

“She was moving pretty fast.”

Bast turned and pointed to the phone on his desk. “Call the lobby. Have security stop her.”

There was nothing blank about Eli's expression now. Amusement played on his mouth and shone in his eyes. “That will go over well.”

“I'd rather her be angry than go missing.” Thinking about her being out there and vulnerable got him moving. He was down the hall before he heard Elijah's voice again.

“She's definitely going to be ticked off.”

“Good.” Bast reached for his cell and dialed the lobby just in case. “Angry means she cares.”

“Straight people are weird.”

Bast stopped. “You're admitting you're not?”

Eli waved him off. “Go rescue your woman.”

•   •   •

Kyra got off the elevator in the lobby and made a beeline for the doors to the heated summer air outside. Three strides and she slammed to a stop. It was either that or run right over Lena and, damn, that was tempting.

But Lena stood there with her perfect brunette hair and put-together outfit of white pants, white silk blouse and long string of pearls and didn't appear ready to move. Kyra always wondered what woman could wear all that white without spilling something down her front. Now she knew.

Between her frayed nerves and the pain making her stomach roll and heave, Kyra didn't have anything left. Certainly no tact and only the thin edge of civility.

“I'm leaving. Bast is all yours.” She did a two-step around Lena and aimed for those glass doors on the other side of the security station.

“Wait.”

Kyra waved the other woman away. “No thanks.”

“Please.”

That was the one thing guaranteed to stop Kyra. She heard the pleading and then saw it mirrored in Lena's eyes. Kyra wanted to kick her own butt for sneaking a peek at Bast's ex and not just rushing past her at a heated run.

Lean wanted to talk? Fine, they would.

“I'll start,” Kyra said as she prepared for more verbal battle.

Lena's eyes closed a fraction, then opened again. “Go ahead.”

“I have a simple question.” The same one that had been kicking around Kyra's head for months, really. “Why did you let him go if you still love him so much?”

“Can we sit?”

Kyra wanted to say no. Maybe demand the quick and painful answer she sensed coming. The last thing she wanted was a sit-down with this woman. But curiosity pulled at her. There were so many things she wanted to understand, things Bast would never share. Things he might not even know.

Kyra led Lena over to the lobby couches and sat perpendicular to her. “Go ahead.”

“I loved Sebastian from the time I was a teenager.” When Kyra jumped up, Lena put out a hand to stop her from bolting. “Please sit back down.”

Her skin felt too tight and the banging in her head made her dizzy, but Kyra gave in and dropped into her seat. “Fine.” With patience gone, she bit out the word.

“Our families knew each other and neither of us had the happiest of home lives.” Lena smoothed her hands up and down her thighs. “We got swept up. People assumed we'd get married and we did. It all made sense at first but then I wanted something else.”

The conversation whirled around her. Talk of love and marriage had Kyra wanting to run. Just get up and get away. To drive this home and get it over, she brought the topic around to the issue she knew ripped the marriage apart. “A different type of sex.”

“The specifics don't matter. The point is Bast tried to change for me. When that didn't work, I tried to change for him. Neither ploy was successful and we were both miserable for years.”

Kyra knew most of this. She'd read pieces on the Internet. Heard a bit from Bast. Listened to Jarrett grumble. But hearing the stark bleakness in Lena's voice as she talked about the disintegration of her marriage provided a different perspective. A solemn and devastating one.

“He left you.” The urge to reach out hit Kyra and she didn't fight it. She put a hand on the armrest next to Lena's. Close enough to provide some comfort but with some space if she needed that.

“Because I couldn't do it. I was so desperate to be what he wanted and convinced I could find a way.” Her voice broke off and her chest moved as she drew in a deep breath. “He figured out we were only hurting each other and filed for divorce.”

These were not the words of an angry vengeful wife. If anything, Kyra heard respect and devotion. “Then why did you write the books?”

“I know it seems like I was punishing him, but that's really not it.” Lena pushed her hair back, tucking it behind one ear. “I'd written the threesome handbook because I wanted to, but in hindsight I should have used a pseudonym as Bast asked me to. I was really going after my proper parents and all their lessons, but Bast got slammed in the crossfire.”

On one level it made sense. On another, no. Kyra couldn't imagine attacking Bast in such a personal way. Privacy and his reputation meant everything to him and she struck at the very heart of both. “And the novel?”