Page 69 of Lone Spy

Omar just stares at me—eyes dark pools I can't read—firelight shimmering behind him. My legs bump the bed and I stop.

"Because you're an asset for US intelligence," Omar says, his voice even and low. He says it like the words will frighten me and he doesn't want them to.

My heart rate spikes and my lips part for a sharp inhale. I shake my head, wanting to deny it while also recognizing it's pointless. He obviously has information.

Omar slips his hands into his pockets. Looks down at his loafers. They don't communicate anything about his willingness to fuck. When his gaze comes back to mine it's harder. "Angela." His accent does something to my name that makes my throat dry. "I can keep you safe, but you have to trust me."

I don't respond because I have nothing to say. Trust him? I don't know him. Why would I trust this man?

He takes a step toward me and I flinch. He stops, sighs. "I've frightened you."

"I don't want—" I pause so he thinks I'm torn. So he thinks I'm struggling with how to handle this…which I am, but not because I'm trying to decide if I should trust him. Because I need him to think I might. "Who was it in my security?" I ask.

"Ash Fraser." Omar says it like he regrets having to tell me this awful truth.

"But he was injured," I say. "He could have died."

"Your country isn't known for protecting people who show it loyalty." There is anger in his voice. My nation’s history of betrayal is a worthy target of rage.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Let me keep you safe."

I blink at him. "How?"

"First, I'd take care of Ash Fraser for you. It would be easy to create a hunting accident."

I shake my head. “They will just replace him," I say. "It's not like I can be free…"

Omar wets his lips. His full lips. They rise into a pleased smirk and when I return my gaze to his, it's obvious he likes that I was looking at his mouth.

He takes a step forward, hands still in his pockets. I don't flinch this time. He takes it as an invitation and joins me in the shadows. "Don't do anything,” I say. "To Ash…yet,” I add, bringing a hand up to Omar's chest—warm and solid.

"Of course." I feel the words through my palm. "I won't do anything you don't want me to." The fire crackles in the silence. "I won't force anything on you. Ever."

My heart flutters, its rhythm quick and flighty. A frightened bird's wings beating in my chest. But I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid of me.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

“No one can save you.”

I wake with a start, my heart pounding, adrenaline tightening my chest. My grandmother's voice echoes in the clamshell of my ear. As if she just whispered to me while I slept.

But, of course, I'm alone…in a canopy bed…in a castle…in Scotland. Pulling the covers off, the morning chill seeps through my thin sleep shirt, breaking goose bumps over my skin. I hurry across the cold rug to the closet and pull out a robe, then go over to the fireplace where coals still glow.

I throw on another log, sparks jumping from the ashes. The dry wood quickly catches and tiny flames lick up over the bark, feasting on it. The fire I was forced to escape when I last spent time with Omar burns its way past the haze of sleepiness hovering over me.

He thinks Ash sold us out, but I know it was Linda Whitmore. I didn't tell Omar that. He left without touching me after promising me he'd see me today. Only a man who wants more than sex does that—especially when he's already had the milk for free, as that repulsive saying goes.

Omar is playing a long game. He's not the first powerful man to become enamored with me. But this feels different somehow.

I think Omar wants to care for me—in part because he thinks I can't do it myself. But also because he feels we have a unique understanding between us. I comprehend the double-edged nature of his glamorous life.

It's very possible Omar thinks I would make a useful, pleasant royal consort—perhaps even a queen one day—capable of what the role requires. A consort who needs him to stay alive…

My phone pings on my bedside table, and I have to leave the warmth of the fire to go to it.

“Are you up?” Ash asks.

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