Page 62 of Under Fire

“Why?” She was nearly tripping over herself to learn more.

Travis just shook his head. “That’s Warren’s story to tell.”

As soon as the words escaped, Alisa knew very well that it had something to do with Warren’s scar. It just had to— She felt so much pain still in him, centering on that very spot—something still so unresolved, something that had never healed.

“Master Chief.” A dark voice emanated from the entry to the garden, a warning in his tone.

Both of them turned to see Warren standing there, his arms crossed, not impressed.

Travis turned to Alisa, “It was a pleasure. Thank you for joining us today.”

He shot her a charming wink before standing to shake Warren’s hand, then promptly marching out of the garden. All Alisa could think of was—will he ever tell me what happened?

Alone in the dusk, Warren stepped forward through the shadowy garden, lit only by small amber lanterns. His glare never left her, watching her—ostensibly trying to piece together the conversation she’d just had. Despite the music and voices echoing from the other side of the hotel, all that Alisa could hear was the rustling of Warren’s suit jacket as he walked up to her.

She sucked in air. It felt like time had stopped.

“You left,” he said.

“I needed some air,” she defended herself, matching his distance.

She saw his gaze dart down to the chain on her neck, and back up, emotionless. The ring between her breasts burned into her skin, screaming at her to say something. She reached down, pulling it up and toying with it in front of him.

“Is this what has bothered you?” she asked carefully.

“No.”

His body stilled except his shoulders, visibly flexing—in fight mode. She nodded, hearing what he wasn’t saying.

“This ring means something,” she said, holding it up.

“No shit—it’s your engagement ring.”

“It’s more than that. It’s a reminder,” she said. “A reminder of why I have to work so damn hard—to get out of the hole I’m in.”

“The hole?”

“Please, Warren—there are things you don’t understand. Things that have forced me to this point.”

“Are you going to tell me about it?”

“Yes.”

“When?” he demanded.

She exhaled. “Soon.”

He paused, seeming to take in what she said, reaching to rub his chin. Her concession seemed to help. After a minute of silence between them, he took a seat on the stone bench beside her. The arctic hadn’t defrosted yet, but she felt some of the iceberg melting, much to her relief.

Into the distance, he looked over the darkened sandy beach, seeming to listen to gulls and distant beachgoers still at it. She observed the man in deep thought, digesting and plotting. A part of her felt safer than she had in a long time, just knowing that finally she had someone on her side. Someone that was strong enough to make a difference.

Then Warren turned back to her. Alisa had to stabilize herself receiving his gaze, hisrealwarm gaze, reminding her of everything she tried to forget with all that wine. God, he was stunning.

He scrubbed his jawline again, assessing her. “I have a lot of questions.”

“I bet you do.”

“Let’s start with one.”

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