Page 62 of Hunted

A little muscle in his jaw twitched. He averted his eyes, and his next words came as if he were forcing them out. “I can’t.”

She shoved his chest with both hands, so he stumbled a step or two away from her. “Damn you, Connor Romano! I don’t deserve this. You know I don’t.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me why.”

Her voice had grown softer, squeezing through a smaller space as her throat tightened. There was regret in his eyes, though, and the anger went out of her, leaving her deflated. She sank into the chair again, out of strength. Her fight was gone. Only heartache and confusion remained. He didn’t want to do this, to end what was beginning between them. So why was he?

Connor came around the table, closed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t resist as he pulled her close to him. Her face pressed to his hard belly. “Don’t ever think it was you,” he whispered. “It’s about me.”

She swallowed hard, refusing to cry as she pushed away from him. She stood again, her legs wobbling, and she meant to turn away, to put some distance between them, but he kissed her. He kissed her and her insides melted and her mind just emptied. He kissed her with his mouth and with his teeth and with his tongue, and the way he held her made her think he never wanted to let go.

She shook her head, finally managing to take a single step away from him. The air felt cold without his arms around her. “I can’t.”

“Lexi—”

“No, Connor. If it’s over, it’s over. I’ve spent my whole life loving a man who couldn’t love me back and I’ve been repeating the pattern with you. I’m done with that. I deserve … more.”

The look that flashed in his eyes could have been pride, but there was pain, too. She saw it very clearly.

“You could love me, you know,” she told him. “But you won’t let yourself, will you?”

“I …” He couldn’t seem to look into her eyes for more than a second. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice tortured and coarse.

She took a deep breath, stiffened her spine. “I’m not going to beg.” Closing her eyes, searching inside for strength, she forced herself to end this torment, to say the final words, to break free. “I’d like to leave tonight.”

He lowered his head in acceptance when what she wanted the idiot to do was beg her to stay.

“That’s probably for the best.”

So this was it. It was over.

But not my life. My life is just beginning, really.

She was free of a father who’d done nothing but belittle her. She was free of the warped self-image she’d dragged through life like a ball and chain. She was free of the secrets of her birth.

She’d finally discovered the woman she truly was, and she liked that woman. Dr. Lexi Stoltz. Smart, strong, brave, capable of outsmarting international terrorists. She could get through anything.

“Even this,” she whispered, and cleared her throat when Connor only frowned at her. “I’ll go back to the clinic where I used to work, before all this. For a while anyway. I need to practice medicine again. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it.”

His head came up. “I’ll book a flight out for you. Tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “I told you, I want to leave tonight.”

He drew a breath, pinned her with his gaze. “You are leaving tonight.”

“I don’t?—”

Her words were cut off by a knock on the door.

Connor stared at her a moment longer, and she saw the anguish in his eyes. Then he turned away, pulled the gun from his waistband, and went to the door. Standing to one side, he asked, “Who is it?”

“Darren,” a voice answered.

Connor nodded and opened the door. The man who entered was a head shorter than him and about fifty pounds heavier. His hair stuck up straight in a snowy brush cut and his eyes were baby blue. His first act, after closing the door behind him, was to clasp Connor’s hand in both of his. “You look good, my friend. I knew working a case would agree with you.”

“I said to give me two hours,” Connor said.

---