Page 37 of Destroyed With You

“The last time we fought like this it was about whether or not to screen in the back porch. I won.”

“Yeah, well I’m winning tonight.”

“I don’t think so. In fact I—what the hell?”

He didn’t even have time to think as she shoved the table over on its side and leaped forward, her leg still tied to the chair. Then he was on his back and she was on top of him. Linda and the chair.

But the thing that really concerned him was the broken wine glass she held at his throat.

“Will you agree with me that I have more experience in the field with terminations?”

He grunted his agreement.

“And will you agree that right now, I could cut your jugular and there’s not a damn thing you could do except bleed out?”

“Linda—”

“Do you agree?”

He closed his eyes and made a concerted effort not to swallow. “Yes,” he said, opening his eyes again and meeting her hard gaze. “At the moment, you have the upper hand.”

“Good. Thank you.” She tossed the glass aside, then bent sideways and unbuckled his belt, releasing her leg from the chair. “Object lesson over. Just trust me already, okay?”

He sat up, groaning from the ache in his back. “Trust you, huh? About what, exactly?”

“Something’s not right.”

He shot her a narrow look, and she grinned.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said as she climbed to her feet. “But if we’re both telling the truth—what we think is the truth, anyway—then one of us was duped.”

“So we work together,” he finished. “We find Bartlett. We figure out which one of our bosses is bad.”

She nodded. “Or if you want an alternative plan, we can pretend I gave you the slip.” She moved around the rubble of the table to the balcony. She slid open the door, then stood there silhouetted against the downtown Austin skyline, the twinkle of lights making the white of the bathrobe glow.

She looked back over her shoulder. “You can walk out of here if you want. I’ll figure this out, and you can go back to the SOC and report in to Seagrave that Bartlett never showed up. After all, it’s not really your problem. Not officially.”

“It’s my problem,” he said, joining her in the doorway. “Someone in intelligence is selling information. Maybe about deep cover agents, maybe about something else. But whatever it is, it’s a breach of trust, and it matters. I’m not going to stand for that.”

Her smile warmed his soul. “I’m glad to see that despite everything, you’re still the man I remember.”

“So we’re working together?” he asked.

She nodded. “We are.”

He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. His hand seemed to rise of its own accord as he brushed her cheek, then cupped the back of her head.

“Winston,” she whispered as he pulled her close.

He waited. Just a heartbeat, but it was enough time for her to pull back. Except she didn’t. She stayed there, her eyes looking deep into his. Her lips parted in invitation.

And so he kissed her, this woman he’d kissed so many times in his dreams and memories. The woman he’d never expected to feel again in his arms. The woman he’d once loved with all his soul, who’d fired his senses, who’d made him laugh.

She was back in his arms, and the world seemed filled with light.

At least until she stepped back and he saw the errant tears on her cheeks.

“Oh, sugar, what is it?”