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She narrows her eyes. With my face inches from hers, I wait. Is she actually going to lie to my face, again?
“Where’s your car?” She breaks away and steps to the driver’s side door.
“One mile up.” Yes, I am more cautious. I slide into the passenger seat, and she turns on the engine. A pair of headlights light up the road behind us, and she adjusts her rearview, waiting until the van passes to pull out onto the road. “Where are you staying tonight?” I’m guessing that given it’s almost eleven, she’s not planning on going home to her father’s, but it’s a possibility.
“I have a hotel room.”
The tension in the car palpitates. My blood roars thick and heavy. She lied. Put our mission in jeopardy. But aside from the crap she pulled, you never fucking go solo. You always have backup. She’s been through training at both Quantico and Langley. She fucking knows this. Stubborn, spoiled woman. Probably can’t fathom anything would go sideways. Experience. That’s what she’s lacking. Then she’d fucking know everything can go sideways in an instant. She’s dressed like a fucking burglar. He could have shot her and called it self-defense.
Wanted to talk to him. Jesus fucking Christ.
She pulls up beside a rental car, one I rented down the street from the airport. Ryan flew me down earlier. I made up an excuse about wanting to get down here without being picked up on CTV. He didn’t ask questions after I told him it was a personal matter. He’s good like that. But I’m pretty sure he picked up that Sophia wasn’t at her father’s, where I thought she was.
With one leg out of Sophia’s car, I tell her, “I’ll follow you.”
“What makes you think I won’t lose you?” she says, gaze fixed on the brick wall bordering the row of parking spots.
“Just try it.”
Ice-blue eyes meet mine head on. She wheels out of the parking lot, tires squealing, and I grit my teeth, jump in the car, and floor it. After an hour of flying down city streets, gunning through red lights, both begging for a ticket in an egotistical chase, she gives up and pulls into a Residence Inn not too far from the airport.
Her door slams shut, and she grits out, “You’re not staying with me.”
“Like hell I’m not.”
Her icy glare has lost some of her earlier fire, but her chin lifts defiantly. She’s still in that damn blonde wig, and I want to rip it off. I settle for pressing her up against the car, trapping her with one arm on each side.
“You’re not my bodyguard.”
“I will always guard your body.”Because you’re mine.
The unexpected thought railroads me, and when she pushes, I stumble.
“I’m not a kid.”
“You think I don’t know that?” What the hell does she think we’ve been doing together this week?
She pulls up the hand extension on her suitcase and releases a pointed huff. “You can stay with me.” She narrows her eyes, challenging me. “Husband.” She turns, and as she’s walking away, adding, “It’s probably best, given there are cameras.”
I follow her, scanning the parking lot. There’s one camera on the streetlight and one on the eaves of the hotel. Probably others. It’s simply good business to keep security cameras over parking lots. But she’s in her blonde wig.
She checks in while I shoot a text off to Erik. He’s my go-to from Arrow on all things tech. Met him when I first joined Arrow ages ago.
Can you check Residence Inn security camera network? If footage stored on server, can you delete footage from one location for me?
It’s late, but he’s a workhorse. I get confirmation back from him and send him the address and time. It’s probably overly cautious, but the CIA excels in caution.
Sophia receives the plastic card and speeds off. The twenty-something woman behind the reception counter looks me over, deems me okay, and turns to step into a hallway. It’s late, and the lobby is vacant.
Sophia’s boots thud against the tile floor. Her black cargo pants hang loose over her long legs but fit snugly over the curves of her bottom. My hand twitches with the desire to pop her infuriating ass.
The elevator door slides open, and I follow her in.
“We’re on the second floor,” she says.
I push the number two. Tension tightens across my chest. I grit my teeth and divert my gaze away from the woman driving me insane. I can’t decide if I want to strangle her, spank her, scream at her, or just slam her up against a wall and fuck her into submission. Maybe all the above, and not necessarily in that order.
“You had no right to follow me.”
