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She chewed on her lip, staring at the agent. He might lack imagination, but one thing he did have was knowledge about Hunter’s past. All those tidbits Hunter hadn’t shared...like the fact his former girlfriend had been a reporter.
Her heart and her brain crashed into one another again, leaving her struggling to adjust.
That little nugget of news about his ex had been relentlessly chugging around in circles in Carly’s mind since she’d first learned the truth. Was there a link between Hunter’s break with his girlfriend and his reasons for quitting the FBI? So far she had considered the events to be unrelated, but now she had a strong suspicion they weren’t. With his ex being a reporter, it made the incidents a whole lot more likely to be connected.
And why hadn’t he trusted her enough to tell her?
The ache returned, leaving her feeling vulnerable, and suddenly her need to know overwhelmed everything. She didn’t require the nitty-gritty details, she didn’t want a blow-by-blow account—though she would have gladly accepted both from Hunter if he’d suddenly decided to quit hiding behind unbreachable emotional barricades. She just wanted the answer to one question: had Hunter’s girlfriend been involved with the leak that had led to him leaving the FBI?
And the only way to find out was to ask. She stared at the redhead, his scalp gleaming beneath the buzz cut.
Don’t do it, Carly. Don’t do it.
But, damn it, Hunter’s past was about more than just his life now. It was about hers too. Love might not endow her with superpowers, but it did provide one indisputable truth—he held her future happiness in his hands.
Fear gripped her, more powerful than ever before. Retreating to what she did the best—seeking out answers, nosing out the truth—was the only way she knew how to take back a little of the massive control that had just been handed to Hunter. He now held her heart on a platter.
With a renewed sense of determination, she headed in the direction of the agent.
* * *
As the hotel elevator descended, Hunter cursed himself for conking out so fast. The late nights had caught up with him, and while Carly had slept in to make up for lost sleep Hunter had been up early, attending lectures at the conference. Still, the lost shut-eye had been a small price to pay for making love to Carly. Tonight, even after they were done, he’d pulled her close, wanting to stay awake and enjoy the sensation that had permeated every muscle in his body, making them slack. Loose. Unrestricted by the tension that had kept him bound tight for so long he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. The deep feeling of contentment, of rightness, came from holding Carly close. From making love to the woman who had wormed her way under his skin in a way that he’d never thought possible.
With her quirky love for the bizarre, her sense of humor, and her sexy, spirited love of fun, Carly had charged into his life and powered his way into his heart in a matter of weeks. Despite all his efforts he’d fallen so fast he was still struggling from the force of the impact. Life without her in it had become unthinkable. And the way she’d made love to him tonight suggested she felt the same way.
So why had he woken up alone?
Eager to be near her again, even if it was to inhale the fresh scent of her skin, to feel the warmth of her body sleeping next to his, he’d left the room with one purpose in mind: to tell Carly how he felt. That the stark emptiness that had threatened to swallow him whole was now filled with the smell of citrus...and the smile of a woman that filled gaps in places he hadn’t known there were holes.
When the elevator doors parted on the ground floor Hunter exited and headed into the lobby. Pleasure hit when he spied Carly leaning against the counter at the bar. But the sense of well-being crashed when he spied who sat opposite her...
Special Agent Terry Smith.
The sucker punch to the gut almost dropped him to his knees. The emotional hit was so hard it knocked the air from his chest.
Heart pumping painfully, Hunter stood, frozen, staring at the two of them as the familiar, nauseating swell of betrayal set fire to his previous lighthearted thoughts, incinerating them in an instant. There was only one thing the two of them had in common. Him. And Hunter was one hundred percent certain he was the topic of conversation.
Instantly several memories flashed through his mind: Carly using her blog to rake him over the coals—subsequently making him the current subject of interest for the Miami press. Carly winning her boss’s approval to do an in-depth piece on Hunter. And Carly making love to him—the first two times leaving him wondering what she had to gain.
