Page 51 of Hidden Attraction

Folding forward, Alyssa dropped to the bed, arms wrapped around herself. “Julian, if I hadn’t been involved… If you weren’t trying to protect me…”

“You can’t think like that,” he said, but she saw it—how tightly he clenched his fists, the anger and frustration boiling behind his eyes.

She pressed a hand over her heart, her breath catching. “Her son… Where is he now?”

“Dante said he’s dead.”

Her head snapped toward him. Her expression felt brittle, like it would shatter like broken glass. “What?”

“Dante found record of his death. After his mom was killed, he…he took his own life.”

“Julian, it’s my fault.” Her voice cracked.

“No.” He was in front of her in an instant, kneeling at her feet, his hands cupping her thighs. “You stop that right now. You saved those hostages. Freed those people who were going through hell.”

“Another team from the base could have been sent to the Red Cross, but they weren’t. Any number of things could have prevented that. Wires crossed. The chain of command broken. Special ops teams don’t work for the government the same way the people on base do—but still, they could have gone to investigate the threat. But you’re not at fault.”

She shook her head, tears spilling. “But I feel like I am, Julian. Because I was the negotiator you were trying to protect, no one told Miriam Sheen not to go to work that day. She didn’t know the danger. Because your team wasn’t told to stop it, she died. And her son—he must’ve blamed himself. He couldn’t save her. And now…”

Julian surged up, gathering her into his arms and pulling her against his chest. She clung to him, sobs muffled in the crook of his neck, while he held her as if shielding her from everything—even her own guilt.

“You were following orders,” he said into her hair. “We both were. And we saved people that day. A whole group of hostages is alive because of you. That doesn’t erase the tragedy, but it matters. It has to matter.”

She nodded, trembling, and let him hold her until her breathing evened out. He rocked them slowly, one hand soothing down her spine, the other anchored at her waist. His heartbeat was steady beneath her cheek.

“I hate that it feels like we’re always chasing the truth.” Her whisper was heated and thick.

“Yeah. But you’re good at it.”

“So are you.”

Julian pulled back just enough to skim his thumb across her damp cheek. “You care so damn much it hurts you.”

“Because people like her matter. And her son—God, Julian, he was just trying to protect her.”

His dark eyes burned into hers. “Same way I’d do anything to protect you.”

The air went still between them, charged with something more than grief, more than mission focus. She looked up at him, eyes searching, heart wide open.

“You mean that?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead he just leaned in, his lips pressing against her forehead with infinite tenderness. “You have no idea.”

Her chest ached in a whole different way now. Fierce. Real.

Julian eased them back onto the bed, not for anything more than comfort and closeness. They lay side by side, fingers intertwined, breathing together. The safehouse walls couldn’t keep the world out, but for this moment, they were each other’s shelter.

“Tomorrow,” he said, voice low and rough, “we’ll keep going. We’ll talk to the commander again if we have to. Chase down the rest of the names. We’ll figure out who’s responsible.”

“Together,” she whispered.

He turned his head to look at her, a faint smile on his features. The way he was looking at her right now made her long for this to be longer than right now—for it to be always.

Alyssa rested her cheek against his shoulder, letting his presence quiet the storm inside her. Julian wasn’t just her partner. He was her anchor.

And right now, she needed him more than ever.

ELEVEN

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