Page 32 of Pursuit of Her

Eve's head rested on Reagan's shoulder, dark hair spilling across pale skin, one arm drapedpossessively across Reagan's waist. Reagan traced idle patterns along Eve's spine, memorizing the subtle changes a decade had wrought—new muscle definition, a small scar near her shoulder blade that hadn't been there before, the slight softening of curves that came with age.

For these brief, stolen moments, Reagan allowed herself to imagine a different life. One where she hadn't disappeared, where they'd built something together instead of existing on opposite sides of a moral divide. One where justice came through legal channels rather than calculated executions.

A fantasy as fragile as morning mist.

Eve stirred against her, lips brushing Reagan's collarbone in a gesture that sent renewed heat coursing through her body. "What happens now?" Eve murmured, voice hazy with lingering intimacy but edged with the pragmatism that had always defined her.

Reagan didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Now I complete my mission."

Eve tensed slightly, the languid warmth between them cooling. She pushed up onto one elbow, studying Reagan's face with renewed intensity. "Arthur Pembroke."

"Tomorrow night," Reagan confirmed, meeting Eve's gaze without flinching. "His cancer's progressed faster than expected. If I wait?—"

"He escapes justice entirely," Eve finished. She sat up fully now, reaching for her discarded tank top and pulling it swiftly. Distance rebuilding between them, brick by careful brick. "And after Pembroke? The other names on your list?"

Reagan rose as well, retrieving tactical clothing piece by piece, armor being reassembled. "Sebastian Harrington. Landon Fairchild. Winston Ashford." She hesitated before adding the final name. "Jonathan Brooks."

"Commissioner Brooks's husband." Eve's expression hardened. "The one who coordinates their 'cleanup operations.' The one who helped arrange your execution."

"Yes." Reagan fastened her pants, fingers moving deftly despite the lingering effects of their lovemaking. "Once they're exposed and eliminated, the entire network collapses."

Eve stood, gathering the rest of her clothing. Reagan watched her movements, the shift from lover back to detective captain visible in her straightening posture, the set of her jaw. "There has to be another way."

"I tried other ways," Reagan reminded her. "For years, I gathered evidence and built cases that could withstand legal scrutiny. Every attempt was intercepted. Every witness silenced. Every journalist threatened or killed."

Eve moved to her desk, retrieving something from the drawer—a small velvet box Reagan hadn't noticed earlier. "I bought this two days before you disappeared."

Reagan stilled. Eve opened the box, revealing a simple diamond ring nestled against dark velvet. Elegant, practical, perfectly suited to a detective who needed functionality as much as beauty. The ring Reagan never knew existed.

"I was going to propose that weekend," Eve continued, her voice steady despite the emotion Reagan could see in her eyes. "I had it all planned. Dinner at Harborside where we had our first date. The lighthouse at sunset."

A loss she hadn't known to mourn now crystallized in the small diamond catching ambient light. A future stolen not by her choice but by the men she now hunted.

"Eve..." Words failed her, inadequate against the magnitude of what might have been.

"I kept it," Eve said simply, closing the box and returning it to the drawer. "Even when I thought you were dead or had abandoned everything we built, I kept it."

Reagan took a step toward Eve, then stopped as a sharp electronic chirp cut through the moment. Her secure phone, tucked into her tactical belt, signaling an urgent alert.

She checked the display, adrenaline instantly flooding her system as she read the message:

Martinez on move. Incoming to your location. ETA 4 min. – S

"What is it?" Eve asked, instantly alert to the shift in Reagan's posture.

"Detective Martinez is on her way here." Reagan moved to the balcony door, checking sight lines and potential exit routes. "Four minutes out."

Eve's expression darkened. "Brooks must have had me under tighter surveillance than I realized. Martinez has probably been watching the building all night."

"And now she's making her move." Reagan gathered the remainder of her equipment, her mind already shifting to escape protocols. "She'll have backup. Standard procedure for suspicious activity at an officer's residence."

Eve moved with sudden purpose, gathering the scattered evidence that had fallen, returning it to the wall. "You need to go. Now."

Reagan paused, watching Eve efficiently erasing all traces of their connection. The captain reasserting control over the woman who had moments ago come hard for Reagan’s fingers and tongue.

The chasm between their worlds yawning wider once more.

"Eve." Reagan stepped close one final time, cupping Eve's face between her palms. "I'm completing this mission. But there's something you should know. I arranged for all evidence against the network to be released to major news outlets and federal agencies simultaneously if anything happens to me."

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