Page 27 of Her Reluctant Hero
Hell, what did it matter? He’d done his best to get her back here as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t have done anything differently. But now he was going to have to answer for not knowing.
Still, as the agents pulled her in one direction and him in another for debriefing, he called, “She needs medical attention. For her feet.”
Isabella held his eyes as long as she could—he wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him—before she disappeared into the building, surrounded by men in suits.
After his own debriefing, Alex walked out of the embassy to the nearby hotel recommended by the staff. He forced himself to stop wondering how Isabella was holding up. She’d probably charmed the entire intelligence agency before they released her and sent her over to the hotel.
One of the marines delivered his mail packet as he exited the conference room, and Alex returned the crisp salute with a halfhearted one of his own before he pawed through the tied-together packet. Four letters from his dad—his foster father—and two from Rebecca. He grinned. In anticipation, he stopped for a six pack, then went to his room and dug in, saving the letters from Rebecca for last.
Now the words blurred in front of him, only partially because of the tequila he’d bought when the store didn’t have any brands of beer he’d heard of. Turned out, he was glad of it. Beer couldn’t get him drunk enough, and he needed to get drunk.
He’d guessed what was coming from one of his dad’s letters.
Keep your head.
Life doesn’t always go as planned.
We love you no matter what.
His dad was an old soldier who wrote newsy letters, not sentimental ones, though Alex could always feel the love underneath the words.
Rebecca must have gone to his folks. That would be something she’d do, a decision she’d agonize over. Not the decision of leaving him, maybe, but the decision of telling him in a letter instead of waiting till he got home.
Better he learns before he gets home and finds you married to someone else, he could imagine his dad saying, and he tossed back another shot.
Better he find out when he’s too far away to do something foolish, like use his training to kill the guy.
He threw the shot glass across the room as hard as he could. It bounced off the wall and onto the carpet without the satisfying shatter.
Dropping to the edge of the bed, he dragged his hands over his head. She’d been too good for him. He’d known that, had hoped she wouldn’t realize it, that he’d be able to make himself worthy of her by the time they married. He didn’t deserve her. He prayed the man she was marrying did.
There was someone he did deserve, the woman who’d been occupying his mind and other parts for days. A woman who was in the hotel room just down the hall.
