Page 36 of Special Ops Seduction

But she knew all that ice and cold was a mask. Of course she knew. She’d just been thinking about it—but it wassomething else, she had to acknowledge to herself, to not only know it but to be the subject of all that frigid fire in his dark gaze.

She was too aware that they were alone here. In this soundproofed suite that no one was likely to enter. In a house that might as well be a hotel.

Where there was a bed, big and comfortable, right in the other room.

You need to get a grip before you humiliate yourself, she warned herself. No matter how dark and brooding and not quite... chained down as usual Jonas was today.

“As I told you a year and a half ago, I had no idea you were in Alaska Force when I joined,” she told him, with a calm that felt like more of a disguise than any other one she’d worn. “How would I? The only person anyone in the service talks about in relation to Alaska Force is Isaac. By design. I followed the same rumor everybody else did.”

“Whether you knew I was in Alaska Force or not before you arrived doesn’t matter. Once you knew I was there—”

“What?” She jumped on that statement because there was a part of her that had been spoiling for this fight for over a year. If she was honest, for a lot longer than that. “You’re not my ex-boyfriend, Jonas. You didn’t get Alaska Force in the divorce. I understand that it upsets you that I exist, but I’m not planning to change that. And I don’t know why you would imagine that I would. Because, again”—she waved a hand between the two of them, in case he wasn’t already getting her point—“we have no situation. You do realize that every single person we work with thinks that we’re basically Isaac and Caradine part two, don’t you?”

He scowled, a tell that he wasn’t in control of himself, but she didn’t care. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Of course it’s harder to imagineyouhaving a secret relationship with anyone, because no one can imagine you having a relationship of any kind. It takes a significant suspension of disbelief to imagine you sneaking around theway Isaac did, for years, but Jonas”—she shook her head at him—“what other explanation could there be for the way you treat me?”

His scowl deepened, this man who had no tells. “I thought I was sexist.”

“I almost wish you were. That would make this behavior make some kind of sense.”

“I don’t care what everybody thinks,” he said, more gruffly than usual. And he lost the scowl, as surely as if he’d dropped a smooth mask onto his face.

Bethan hated it. “And now this conversation is beginning to feel circular.”

“Very funny. But while on the topic, I don’t think Stapleton is our man. Not that he wouldn’t happily kidnap a scientist, or order someone to do it for him, but I don’t think stealth is his strong suit.”

It was an out. And she’d historically always taken the out. She always focused on the job. She always concentrated on what was ahead of her, because what was behind her couldn’t matter.

But this was different for a thousand reasons, and most of them seemed tangled up in the way her heart couldn’t seem to settle on a reasonable rhythm in her chest.

“Is this the part where I pretend that we weren’t having a personal conversation because you’re clearly done with it?” she demanded.

Because maybe neither one of them had their masks on quite as tightly as they normally did. Not today. Not here, where there was too much emotion in the air, like jasmine and rosemary. And things seemed to be far more complicated than they were when they were playing themselves.

Or maybe, came that voice inside her,you both stopped playing parts. For a change.

“If you can’t keep things professional,” Jonas began.

“Give me a break.” She moved closer to him, which was likely a mistake, but she didn’t check herself. She felt asunchecked, unchained, as he had when he’d scowled at her. “I hate to break this to you, Jonas, but you’re actually a person. Can’t help but get personal. It’s right there in the description.”

“Is that what you want?” he demanded, and there was heat and life and fury in his voice, which felt to Bethan like a victory. Like more than a victory. Like a kind of wild bliss, and she didn’t have it in her to pretend otherwise.

“Since when do you care what I want?”

“Maybe a better question is what you want from me.”

He moved then, and suddenly they were standing far too close to each other. All she could think about was his hand, hot and strong and low on her back, though he wasn’t touching her. All she could see was all that fire in his dark gaze and the stern line of his mouth that did absolutely nothing to conceal the sensual curve of his lips.

“You’re possibly the greatest soldier I’ve ever met,” she managed to say, though everything in her was too hot, too tight, toodesperate. “But you’re a profoundly stupid man.”

His grin was so dangerous it was practically serrated. “Say that again,” he invited her. “I dare you.”

“None of this has ever been about what I want from you,” she gritted out. “It’s about you. What you want. Or don’t want. What you’re afraid of and what you think—”

“Shut up, Bethan,” he growled at her.

“Why?” she asked, a little wildly. Okay. A lot wildly. So wild it was like the words were appearing of their own accord. “I’ve already tried that. For years. And it still doesn’t help. You march around, glowering and disapproving. You’ve let our colleagues think that we have some kind of sordid history. And why? Because once upon a time, one night in a war zone, you let another person take care of you.”

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