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She eyed me carefully. “Sometimes I wonder if you are. You never told me what happened in Russia.”
My mouth tightened. “Stopped a war, didn’t it?”
“I know that,” she whispered softly. “But what did it do to you?”
I angled my head away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We need to get MI6 to leave you alone. Don’t they know they’re hurting you?”
“I’m an asset,” I said flatly.
“We need you to get astigmatism. Snipers don’t wear glasses, do they?”
I had to laugh. Looking into her eyes, I breathed, “Never change, Inessa. Please?”
She batted her lashes at me. “I’ll try my best not to.”
Tracing a finger along her cheek, I murmured, “What I do, I do in your best interests.”
“Who made you God and let you decide whatmybest interests are?” she whispered. “You leaving me is not in my best interests.”
“You’d have plenty of money.”
“I don’t want money. I want you.”
Her words were staunch, but her expression, how she growled them, how she stepped into me, all of it rammed home the truth in her statement.
I felt her truth.
“I love you.”
“And I love you,” she muttered. “Now you’ve pissed me off, I want anicemassage. Not a deep tissue one. Can you handle that?”
Wryly, I smiled. “I can handle that.”
