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“Sorry to ruin your interview.”
Anger flared. “Damn it, Hunter,” she said, grabbing his arm. But he was bigger and stronger and powered by a fury that was almost frightening. The momentum of his emotion and his strength carried them both forward as she clutched his arm and went on. “It wasn’t an interview.”
“Then why were you talking to him?”
She bit her lip, her steps still carried forward by her grip on his arm as he made his way to the elevator. Dismayed, she struggled for a way to explain.
Curiosity hadn’t killed the cat, because death would have been too easy.
In the end, the truth was all she had. “I wanted to ask him a question.”
He stopped to face her and shook off her arm, stepping closer. “What question?” His eyes were iced over, his face hard, and he looked so distant it was difficult to remember anything other than this coldly reserved Hunter.
“I wanted to know why you left the FBI,” she said. He stared at her, as if sensing there was more. “And I wanted to know if your girlfriend had anything to do with it.”
“You could have asked me.”
“I did ask you, but you said it wasn’t important.”
“Sorry I wasn’t cooperative enough for you. I didn’t mean to ruin your plans. Or maybe this was your plan all along?”
Her patience lost so much weight it disappeared. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your plan to lull me into sleep with a good round of sex and then slip away to find Terry. Get the story you’ve wanted all along.”
Carly was proud she didn’t stomp her foot, and even more amazed she didn’t slug him with her fist. But his jaw was so set, his expression so stony, she would have broken her hand while he would have hardly registered the tap to his face. Instead, hope died. Her heart burst. And her soul curled up in the corner and immediately began to lick its mortal wounds.
He’d made her feel worth protecting. But that was a reflection of him. That was who he was and what he did. It was no reflection of his belief in her. He’d faced down two supposed thugs because he would shield anyone who was threatened. He’d slugged a man because of a vile insult, but not because he considered her honorable. The need to defend and protect was simply hardwired into his being. He didn’t trust her. Had absolutely no faith in her. And he never would.
The tears stung, but she’d had years of practice fighting them back. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to explain.”
The old feeling of helplessness, of abandonment, came rushing back. First Thomas, then her father. And now Hunter.
His face was so rigid she feared it would crack. “I came to find you because I missed you.”
The stinging tears grew sharp, and her every breath felt heavy, as if she were breathing against a thick mask. “I came here to find some answers,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I love yo—”
“Don’t.” He bit out the word so sharply it startled a nearby guest, and he stepped closer, towering over her, his voice low. “Don’t say it,” he ground out.
Heart pounding, she froze, trying to find her voice again. “Hunter, I didn’t learn a thing. I told you. I wanted to know the truth, and since you wouldn’t tell me—”
“You want to hear what happened? Okay,” he said, crossing his arms, his face hardly the picture of acceptance. “On the record, so you can use it to your heart’s content and impress your boss with your in-depth knowledge.”
Carly’s soul curled up tighter, bled a little harder.
Hunter either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I was used by a woman until she got what she wanted and left. I don’t know if Mandy hooked up with me with that intention or not. I suspect my job simply pricked her interest and she decided to see where it led. But ultimately the story was more important than our relationship.”
Despite her own pain, she hated the blank look on his face. “I’m sorry.”
Hunter went on, ignoring her attempt at offering sympathy. “She wrote an article that revealed protected information about a cybercrime ring affiliated with the mob in Chicago. Information only our department knew. I’d been working on the case for two years, and I suspect she used a friend of mine from work—an FBI consultant—as her source. All I know is that it wasn’t me,” he said. Defeat joined forces with the anger in his voice and his lips twisted wryly, his bitter humor black. “But you can’t prove a negative. And while a lack of evidence protects you from charges, it doesn’t protect you from your colleagues’ opinions.” Hunter raked a hand through his hair, leaving it spiked on the top. “So I could have stayed and kept my job with restricted access, but I’d lost my zest for the work. Making money in a consulting business seemed the better option.”
