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She wanted to fold up into herself and escape. To hide as Micah had already accused her of doing. But surely hiding wasn’t as painful as facing the lies.
She wished she were as strong as Kira. As confident. For six years Risa had been so envious of the other woman. But she wondered at the hell it would have to take to find such confidence in her ability to survive. Risa didn’t imagine she could survive worse than what she had known herself, yet she had found no confidence in her survival.
“You didn’t have to lie to me to convince me to meet him,” she whispered, staring back at Ian. “And you didn’t have to lie to me after that, that he was a friend of yours. That he was a SEAL. I wouldn’t have fought this operation you wanted to use me for. All you had to do was tell me he was a friend, Ian. That was all.”
Silence filled the room as she rose to her feet and turned her back on the three of them. She felt as though she were going to shatter.
“You’d think I’d be used to the lies,” she mused roughly. “I should be by now, shouldn’t I? It shouldn’t affect me so much, that you had lied about something so small.”
She turned and faced them. No one said a word. They were watching her cautiously, as though they still weren’t certain exactly what she knew. Even Kira seemed to be on alert, watching her intently. Micah’s black eyes were penetrating, his brows lowered heavily as he watched her.
“Is he even American?” She turned to Ian as though she were only curious. “I could swear at times that he’s not. Can any of you even tell me the truth there?”
“Risa.” Ian cleared his throat.
“Please don’t lie to me again, Ian,” she said conversationally, as though the tears weren’t ripping into her soul. “I counted you and Kira both as friends. People I could depend on.” She almost snorted at that thought. “Perhaps I should have known better. The operation is more important, correct?”
“I warned you,” Kira said softly to her husband as her gray eyes stayed on Risa.
Risa hated the look in her eyes. She hated being watched as though she were a bug under a damned microscope.
“Why did you lie to me!” she screamed back at them, barely aware of the subtle flinch that jerked through Micah’s body as she glared at Ian and Kira.
“Because you needed to trust the man that was going to be sleeping with you, Risa.” Kira was the one who answered her.
The other woman rose to her feet, her look so damned pitying that Risa had to curl her fingers into fists to keep from going for her face.
“Look at you,” Risa accused roughly. “You feel so damned sorry for me, don’t you, Kira? I get sick of the pity in all your eyes. Try telling me the damned truth for a change and you wouldn’t have to feel sorry for poor little Risa.”
Kira winced. “Guilty as charged.” She nodded. “And you’re right: We should have been honest with you. But in our defense, Risa, we could never be certain how strong you were, or how you would have accepted the unvarnished truth.”
“And that truth is?” Risa laughed bitterly. “Let’s see.” She turned to Micah. “That first night he was your good and dear friend who fought with your husband in the Middle East. The next morning he was one of Jordan Malone’s agents committed to protecting me.” She turned back to Kira. “What is he now?”
No one answered her. They stared back at her as though she were demented, but there were no answers forthcoming. She could feel the bitterness tearing through her. It cramped her stomach, ripped at her chest. She felt as though her knees were going to give out on her and leave her clawing at the floor in pain.
She turned to Micah. “No explanations? No answers?” Her voice was grating as she shuddered at the look in his eyes. Part torment, part complete impenetrable male arrogance.
“I can’t tell you what you want to know,” he finally stated. “But know this, Risa: I didn’t lie to you. Nothing I’ve done, nothing I’ve given you, has been a lie.”
“Liar.” She wanted to scream, but the accusation was torn, ragged, instead. “You lied every time you touched me, Micah. You lied to me with every word out of your lips so you could see this mission through. At least admit that.”
“I didn’t have to lie, Risa,” he stated somberly. “Because you didn’t ask questions. And now, you’re asking questions I can’t answer.”
“Of course you can’t.” Her stage whisper was bitter and filled with pain. “Super-secret agents don’t answer questions, do they, Mr. Sloane?”
“This is ridiculous, Risa,” he accused her, his gaze snapping with ire now. “You knew this was a mission. You knew what we were trying to do. You can’t cry foul now. And you can’t expect me to endanger that mission by answering questions that contain information that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Information that could only end up hurting you.”
She flinched at the anger in his voice and his refusal to answer something as simple as what the hell he was.
“Well, I guess I’m asking the wrong person.” She turned and swung for the door. “Let’s see what Jordan has to say.”
“No, Risa.” Micah jumped for her, but he was too late. She was out the door, across the hall, and pounding on the door where she knew the so-called agents lodged.
She wanted answers. She didn’t want more lies and she didn’t want more cover-ups. She wanted to know exactly whom she had given her body and her heart to. She wanted to know the man she was going to lose.
“Risa, not right now,” Micah growled, his fingers curling around her arm.
“Now.” She jerked out of his grip as the door swung open.
