Page 69 of Hot Intent

They were chock full of barely restrained violence. He looked as if his usual tight control was on the verge of failing catastrophically.

He was a man on a bridge. But he wasn’t there to jump. He had an Ouzi and was about to start shooting everything and everyone who crossed his path. Her Alex was nowhere to be seen in the hot stare of this operative.

Funny, she’d thought his cold stare and icy focus were scary. But this volatile version of Alex was a hundred times scarier.

She choked out past his arm on her throat less convincingly than she’d hoped for, “I would never betray you, Alex.” She might have added that she had loved him more than she hated him, but there was no telling how Alex in this furious frame of mind would react.

He snorted. “That’s your opinion. But I was the one interrogated and drugged. You had free rein to roam around the base. And then you magically came to my rescue.”

“There was nothing magic about it.” She gurgled as his arm got heavier on her neck, partially cutting off her air. She forced out in a raspy half-whisper, “I was scared to death and had to be creative and sneaky. I climbed out a window, and stole awoman’s purse, and had to sneak around a big office building crawling with soldiers, thank you very much.”

“You. With no training whatsoever. You want me to believe you pulled off a daring rescue at the last second before they loaded me up with scopolamine and made me spill my guts to them.”

“Yes. I do.”

He snorted under his breath, and she added indignantly, “You’re not the only resourceful, creative person on earth, you know. I happen to be able to solve problems and think outside the box, too.” He looked skeptical, and she added, “If you’re too big a chauvinist or have your head shoved too far up your ass too to recognize that about me, then I guess you don’t deserve my love, after all.”

He rolled his eyes at her grand declaration.

What a jerk!

He retorted, “I’m neither stupid nor gullible enough to believe you miraculously rescued me. I never should have trusted you. My father always did say never to let a woman past your guard. I guess he knew what he was talking about.”

“Whatever the hell happened between him and your mother doesn’t have to ruin your relationships with women forever, you know.”

“Cut the psycho-babble bullshit. I don’t have time for it. And I don’t have time for you. You always did slow me down.” He shoved away from her and she coughed as she rubbed her throat.

Ouch.It was true that she slowed him down, but it still hurt to hear him say it so baldly. She’d hoped he would put up with her because she loved him and he cared for her. Apparently, not.

Grief tore through her, but she brutally shoved it aside and, instead, let her fury have free rein. This was likely the last time she would ever see Alex. Her last shot at making him see how wrong he was about her.

“Alex. When have I ever given you reason to believe I’m anything but totally loyal to you, first and foremost?”

“Never. Which is damned suspicious, don’t you think? Particularly given how rah-rah-red-white-and-blue you are.”

He strode across the bedroom and quickly dialed in the combination locking a long trunk at the foot of his bed. No surprise, it held an array of weapons in custom-made trays. He lifted them out onto the bed and surveyed the arsenal.

She spoke to his rigid back. “So, if I had acted disloyal you wouldn’t have trusted me, and if I act loyal now, you distrust me even more? That makes no sense. Since when is the great genius, Alex Peters, illogical? Think, Alex. Get off this emotional roller coaster of yours long enough to ask yourself what’s wrong with you.”

He whipped around to face her. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m exactly the creature you all made me into.”

She stepped into his line of sight, forcing him to acknowledge her whether he liked it or not. “I have never tried to make you into anything. I loved you just the way you were.” Past tense.

He stared at her for a moment as if he’d caught the past tense in her words. Maybe that was even a little shock passing through his silver stare.

But then he whirled away and headed for his closet. Dammit. She thought she might have gotten through to him there, for a second.

If he wouldn’t talk about his feelings, maybe he would at least explain to her what the hell had happened on the mission. “Why did you bail out on me in Cuba, Alex?”

He emerged from his spacious closet with a suitcase, which he opened on the bed. He began removing clothing from dresser drawers and layering the bag with weapons, ammunition, and apparel. “I never bailed out on you,” he eventually answered.

“You most certainly did. Twice! You made me go to Gitmo alone, and then you ditched me in that café in Guantanamo. Why?”

“It’s what spies do,” he snapped. “They cut their losses and run.”

“Don’t throw platitudes at me. I want a real answer.”

“Platitudes? Coming from you, that’s hilarious,” he bit out.

---