Page 66 of Destroyed With You

He watched her face. The heat building in her eyes. The way the pulse in her neck had quickened and her parted lips that were just ripe for kissing.

“I’m thinking about all that and more.”

“You’re thinking about her.” The words were soft and accusatory. And more of an admission than he would ever have expected from her.

“No,” he said gently. “I’m not.”

“Who is she?”

“Oh, sugar, you saw me talking to Emma. Emily.”

Her chin lifted, and her eyes darted to the side. “You kissed her.”

“I suppose I did.”

Her lips pressed together, and she pulled free, then wiped her palms on the fleece of the pants. “Why is she here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Worried when we went off the grid, so decided to do her own investigation. I told her to cool it before she fucked something up.”

She nodded slowly. “You two knew each other before Hades.”

“A bit,” he said. “We got closer in Texas.”

She didn’t quite meet his eyes when she asked, “Did you sleep together?”

“What?” He took a step back, realizing in the moment that he should have seen that coming. “Oh, darlin’, no. Never even came close.”

She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “Really? So there was nothing between you two then or now?”

“Nothing,” he said. “She’s a friend. A former partner. And we work together. I love her, but like a sister.” He tilted her chin up. “Okay?”

For a moment, he thought he saw relief in her eyes. Then she dipped her head and moved away from his touch. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I have a right to get jealous.”

“The hell you don’t.” He moved closer, his hands to her shoulders. “You’re my wife, remember?”

“Winston, come on—”

“No. You say our marriage was built on a lie, but you’re only half right. The foundation was fake, but the emotion was real.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” she protested. “The truth is kind of a big deal.”

“Dammit, Linda.” Christ, the woman was infuriating. They’d had something wonderful, and the remnants of that still popped and fizzled between them. “Why are you fighting this so hard? I know what I feel. And, honestly, I know what you feel, too.”

“Do you? Because what I mostly feel is guilt.” He could hear the anger in her voice, and the pain. “I hurt you, and I’m standing here just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you think I could stand to be back with you and then lose you all over again? I’ve had the pain once, and that was plenty.”

“Why would you lose me?”

“Come on, Winston. You look at me like you’re in love. You went off the rails in the hotel not because I was an operative assigned to take out a man. Your fury was at me, not the job. Because someone you love betrayed you.”

She was right. And that betrayal was at the core of that lingering fear he’d just confessed to Emma. But Emma had been right—he would have left to protect her, too. Her leaving hadn’t been a betrayal. It had been the ultimate sacrifice for love.

Which begged the question—if she’d loved him that deeply then, why was she so scared now?

He drew in a breath. “Linda, please,” but she only shook her head.