Gunner didn’t trust Cassidy. She wanted to help him, but, well, this was the tricky part.
“Her files have a block on them in the system.”
Gunner arched a brow. His lips twitched the faintest bit. “Like you can’t get past that block.”
She could—in her sleep. But blocks were usually put up for a reason. “Maybe there’s something we shouldn’t know about her.” The last thing she wanted to do was draw any additional risk or attention to Gunner or herself.
Her hand slid over her stomach. When she felt the kick, Sydney didn’t jerk.
She smiled.
Gunner leaned forward to kiss her once more. But when he pulled away, a furrow appeared between his brows. “Cassidy Sherridan is under EOD protection. How can we keep her safe if we don’t know her secrets?”
Secrets could be a very dangerous thing, as they’d both learned.
And no matter how hard you tried, some secrets just couldn’t stay buried. “Maybe I should talk to Mercer.” He needed to know that she’d be tapping around in his system.
Or, rather, blowing his little security blocks to hell and back.
“Cale took her to the safe house.”
There was a darker note in Gunner’s voice. She raised her brows. “What is it?”
His lips tightened. “I don’t like this setup.”
Because he didn’t trust Cassidy.
“Cale is a part of our group,” Gunner said. “I don’t want him in danger because he’s falling for a pretty face. I want to know everything about Cassidy that I can.”
It wouldn’t be the first time that a well-trained agent was misled because emotions got involved in a case. Sydney liked Cale. She didn’t want him at risk, either. She didn’t want any of the EOD agents put in additional jeopardy. Their jobs were dangerous enough without any intimate betrayals.
She knew that from personal experience.
“I’ll find out exactly who she is,” Sydney promised. And she would. Either with Mercer’s help...
Or on her own.
Gunner laced his fingers with hers. “I missed you.”
And her heart had been breaking without him.
* * *
CASSIDY WAS ASLEEP in his arms. He’d known the exact instant that she’d slipped away, but he hadn’t tried to wake her up. He’d held her and enjoyed the feel of her body against his.
He wasn’t the type to just hold a woman in bed. That wasn’t him. His sexual encounters were usually fast, hot, with no strings attached.
He wasn’t looking for strings.
But Cassidy Sherridan came with miles and miles of strings attached.
Cale turned his head on the pillow, moving so that he could see her as the light of dawn spilled into the room.
No makeup, her hair a beautiful tangle, the woman was so gorgeous that she made him ache.
He’d taken her two more times during the night. Wanted more but he’d known she needed to rest. So when she’d fallen asleep, he hadn’t woken her.
But he had wanted her.
With her, he was wondering if he’d always want more.
A slow beeping reached him, and Cale frowned. That beeping was coming from their discarded pile of clothes.
Carefully, because he still didn’t want to wake her, Cale climbed from the bed and headed for the clothes. He reached down. Found Cassidy’s phone. The photo flashing on the screen was of Genevieve Chevalier.
“Cale?”
Cassidy’s voice. Sleepy, husky, sexy.
Damn. Those strings were wrapping around him, tighter and tighter, with every second that passed.
The phone had stopped beeping.
He turned toward her. Cassidy pushed up in bed and smiled at him. “You look good in the morning,” she murmured as her eyes slid over him.
Not nearly as good as she did.
But then she frowned. “Was that my phone?” She clutched a sheet to her chest. She didn’t need to cover up on his account. “Has something happened?” A thread of fear leaked through the words.
Nothing new had happened. At least, nothing that he was aware of. Cale cleared his throat. “Your friend...Genevieve. She was calling.”
Her hand reached toward him, grabbing quickly for the phone. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell her goodbye!” Her fingers flew over the phone’s surface. “We raced away so quickly that I—”
His fingers closed over hers. “Don’t tell her where you are.” That was the agent talking, not her lover.
Cassidy stilled. Her lashes rose as she gazed up at him. “Why not? Genevieve is my friend. She isn’t a threat to me.”
Until he could learn more about the attack on her, Cale was viewing everyone as a potential threat. “You were targeted just hours ago. Right now, I’m not willing to risk your safety with anyone. Even your friend.” Actually, he didn’t even want her calling Genevieve back right then. What if the call was tracked? What if—
“Stop it.” Her voice came out low and cold. The ice—that had been the way Cassidy talked to him before. Back in the beginning. When he’d just thought she was a society queen and she’d thought he was an overprotective agent.
Only they were long past that.
Weren’t they? They’d spent a night burning up the sheets. They damn well should have been past it.
“Genevieve is my friend—the oldest friend I’ve got, and I’m calling her back. Something could be wrong. I have to check in with her.” She put the phone to her ear, and, a few seconds later, the call connected. “Genevieve?” A false brightness rang in Cassidy’s voice.
Genevieve might be her friend, or Cassidy might call the other woman that, but it was obvious to Cale that Cassidy wore a mask for the Frenchwoman. She was pretending—and that telling hitch was back in her voice.
Cale wasn’t interested in any false fronts. He wanted the real Cassidy in his bed.
“Genevieve, how are you?” Cassidy asked, still with that too-perfect and happy tone.
He leaned toward her and heard a quick smattering of French in response.
Cassidy laughed. “Yes, I know... I was glad to get out of that hell, too. It was a nightmare.” Her voice roughened a bit as she said, “I’m so glad that you got out of there. I was afraid they’d kill you, Gen.” True emotion was in those words. The real Cassidy, peeking out.
The real Cassidy was a hell of a lot sexier than the fake debutante.
He wanted to touch Cassidy then, but she pulled away, shifting toward the headboard.
He wanted her back.