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He’d introduced her to the president, for crying out loud. That was going to look great, wasn’t it? His “innocent bystander” was actually trying to get a story and might have been tipped off to the assassination. And not only that, but he missed it because he’s a lovesick idiot and a sucker for a damsel in distress. He got played like a fiddle at a bluegrass festival.
Will sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to separate the emotions. He was so used to keeping his feelings out of whatever situation he was in–it was a requirement of the job. You couldn’t let your emotions get the best of you in the middle of a hostage rescue or when you were undercover. He’d made a mistake letting this Hannah woman get under his skin with her pitiful story and resilient behavior. It wouldn’t happen again.
Will had to pull back, remove his heart from the scope of this operation, and focus on the goal at hand. They’d been on the defensive for too long, and it was time to act.
Plus, the sooner this was over, the sooner he could go back to Virginia and forget about the doe-eyed woman he’d mistaken for someone important.
He exhaled one last time, then pressed himself up to standing. He headed toward the living room with the same intensity and focus as his days of drill while active duty. Nothing was going to deter him.
The scene in the living room made him pause. Mel–Hannah, he corrected himself again, wondering how long it would be before he stopped thinking of her by the fake identity, was curled up in one corner of the couch, her paper plate balanced on the arm of the couch as she nibbled on chips and joked with Tank.
“You’re scared of your maid?” she laughed with a wide smile as Tank’s cheeks pinkened.
Will stared directly at Hannah.
“No. I’m not scaredof her. Iavoid herbecause I don’t want to scare her.”
“Dude! It’s your house!” Pierce’s disbelief was evident.
“We need to talk,” Will interrupted the camaraderie with a loud declaration. No one could miss the change in atmosphere.
Will felt the others look at him, then their eyes went to Hannah, who had become entirely motionless on the couch, as soon as she realized Will was talking to her.
“Oh.” The sound was quiet, as though it had escaped accidentally.
She rose to her feet, knocking the plate to the ground. Chips slid across the floor, and she hastily dropped to her knees to pick them up.
“Leave them,” he ordered.
He couldn’t afford to see her as clumsy and endearing. Not anymore.
Slowly, she stood up, tugging the long shirt down over the black tights she wore.
Wordlessly, he turned back to the hallway, knowing she would follow.
He passed her bedroom on the right, his gut roiling at the sight of the place where they’d almost– Nope, couldn’t go there.
Instead, he led her into the primary bedroom, where he’d dropped his things and showered. Someplace untainted by her lies.
When he reached the middle of the room, he turned and crossed his arms, staring her down as she came in a few moments later.
“Something you need to tell me, Melanie? Or should I say… Hannah?”
CHAPTERTWENTY
Hannah’s stomachdropped to the floor, her entire body suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of the lie she’d been living for the last three days. Three days? It didn’t sound like much, but she felt like her life had sort of shifted in perspective. There was only before the assassination and after. After was stressful and dangerous. But also… protected.
After was Will.
Or at least… had been.
Judging by the stony stare on his chiseled features, whatever ideal future she’d been dreaming of where she got the affection and care of this good man while still using him and the team for the exclusive feature that would make her entire career… That future was over.
Finished. Kaput.
His expression didn’t leave any doubt of that.
That limbo place where the future was bright and the present was somehow brighter was gone, along with the soft look and tender touches she’d received from Will just two hours ago.
