Black Widow
Cairo was supposed to be the end stage of a five-year-long operation to dismantle a powerful sex trafficking ring spanning the globe. The agency I worked for—an offshoot of an offshoot of a clandestine government organization nonthreateningly named Fallhurst Institute—got involved in the operation when they unearthed evidence of root-deep involvement of key political figures in over a dozen countries. The words international incident of fucked-up proportions were bandied around frequently, putting everyone in the agency on permanent tenterhooks.
It wasn’t surprising therefore that things started to go wrong almost immediately once the final team was put together.
Ted Milton despised me from the moment we met. A middle-aged old-school spook straight out of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, he was an unapologetic sexist pig who made no bones about the fact that he considered me a worthless slut for sleeping with my boss. The fact that Killian and I were supposed to be lovers as part of our cover didn’t mean a damn to him. It didn’t help that we made it blatantly clear that we were involved both on and off assignment.
Ted continued to actively despise me in the five months we worked together. Right until I saved his life on an op in Rome. Then he thawed to barely tolerating me. But not once did he fail to let me know how much he wished I wasn’t part of the team. And when we ultimately failed, he laid the blame for all of it at my feet.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t far off from the truth. “You think it was Ted?”
“Who gave you up?” Killian asks.
I nod.
Killian’s jaw clenches. “The thought crossed my mind. He hated your guts, and mine, but his whole life was dedicated to serving his country. That said, I get it. I would give up everything that means half a damn too, if it means protecting something I value. He may have been twisted enough to believe giving us up and getting us out of the way might protect Fallhurst and its agents in the long run.”
“So he may have thrown us under the bus for the greater good?” I know how fucked up life can be, so I’m not surprised that Ted is capable of this.
Killian shrugs and continues tapping on the keyboard. “Like I said, I know I’d throw the whole fucking world under a bus to have you, so yeah,” he states without taking his eyes off the screen.
This time my breath strangles for an entirely different reason. Before his words can seep into my blood and disarm me further, I shift my gaze to the screen. “Shane?” Unlike Ted, the possibility that we were betrayed by Shane makes my chest ache. So I’m relieved when Killian shakes his head.
“It’s not him.”
“Why? Because he worshipped you?” The waspish snap in my voice makes me cringe inside.
“Because he worshipped you.”
“Only because you were with me.” The analyst is…was gay. A typical bespectacled nerd who barely held himself together in Killian’s presence during briefings. His saving grace was that he didn’t hold a grudge against me because Killian was mine. At least not as far as I could tell. He’d been happy to bask in the glow of his idol’s magnificence no matter who Killian was with. I learned to live with it. Barely.
I stare at his photo now, struck by how young and innocent he looks. “How old was he?” I ask.
Killian sighs and stops typing. “Twenty-seven. Cairo was his first assignment. I was against him joining us in the first place. I recommended he not be placed in the field again after that. Obviously someone disagreed because they kept sending him out on ops.”
I thought I was inured against softer feelings, but I can’t seem to fight the sadness that wells up inside me. I close my eyes, regretting my momentary bite of resentment. “God.”
Firm hands grip mine. I open my eyes to see that Killian has moved his chair directly in front of me. He lifts my hands and kisses my knuckles, then each palm. I shouldn’t allow my senses to fire up like this. Not right now. But I can’t stop my breath from catching. From wishing for more of that contact.
“Now that you know what’s going on, you get why I can’t let you leave, don’t you?”
I get that that’s partly why. A huge remaining part of why I’m here is blazing at me in his eyes. But I don’t have the head space to deal with it right now. Without answering, I look back at the nearest screen, and the unfamiliar face. “Who’s the woman?”
His thumbs move to my wrists, sweeping back and forth over my pulse. It’s distracting as hell, but I try to breathe through it.
“Her name is Lisa Channing. She debriefed me. After you left.”
There’s a guardedness about him that spikes my antenna. “So she works for the Fallhurst Institute?”
A half shrug. “In a sense.”
“What does that mean?”
“She had the right clearance but she was an independent contractor of sorts. Also she was more of a shrink than anything else.”
I frown. “You spoke to a shrink, not your handler?”
His mouth twists, but I can tell he’s not coming from a place of amusement. “It was part of the deeper defrag process, apparently.”
“Defrag?”
He flashes me a half grin. Again, barely amused. “Sorry. Tech speak. They needed to tick a box to say I wasn’t permanently traumatized after the op. She was sent to help me off-load a few things.”
Right. “And did you?”
He shrugs. “The box wasn’t checked for three years so I guess my level of fucked-up-ness was rather epic.”
My hearts starts to bang urgently against my ribs. “And during your off-loading, did you…was there…?”
“Full disclosure?” he supplies gently.
The secret that has become part of my DNA rises like a stone and wedges in my throat, preventing me from speaking. So I nod.
Killian leans forward until his face is right up in front of mine. Startlingly direct eyes bore into me. “What do you think?” The question contains a steely edge. As if he’s offended that I would ask that.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “If you were as fucked up as you say you were then—”
“I may have been off my head a little. Or, okay, a whole fucking lot, but some transgressions I will take to my grave. You know that. Our secret is ours to keep. No one else will ever know.”
I don’t want to think about the series of epic fuckups that occurred in Cairo. Not now. Not ever. So I return my attention to the woman. She’s beautiful, with bright gray eyes and an attention-seeking mouth. The kind that seems to be a hint away from curving in a sultry, I’m-great-at-blow-jobs way. And that’s not all. She’s blessed with the type of flaming red hair that could either be expensively fake or real. I can’t tell from the head shot, and that pisses me off a little.
I wonder if her prettiness is the cause of Killian’s caginess. Did he off-load on Lisa Channing in more ways than one?
“How long did you see her for?” I ask, jerking my gaze from the screen to stare down at our hands. Our still-joined hands. I try to pull away. His fingers circle my wrists in a definitive hold. I let him keep me prisoner. Just for now.
“On and off for two years. The first shrink didn’t work out.”
Something tightens inside me. “You needed that long to off-load?” Okay, I officially hate that word.
“I wasn’t feeling inclined to cooperate.”
“Why not?”
“They wanted to check their box and put me back in the field. I had other priorities.”
“Which were?”
“Finding you.” He leans even closer and ghosts his lips over mine. “I’ve looked for you every day since you left.”
At my soft gasp, his eyes turn dark. The fierce need to plaster my mouth to his makes me pull back in self-preservation.
“The first time they sent her, I threatened to set fire to the world if they attempted to put me back in it. The threat didn’t go down well and…let’s just say things got progressively worse after that. When it became clear they wouldn’t back down, we eventually reached a compromise.”
My tiny snort of disbelief earns me a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were familiar with that word.”
“I had to learn to be. I figured it was better to get her off my back so I could focus all my energy on locating you.”
“But still, two years is a long time.”
“There was one subject she wanted me to open up about and I was…resistant.”
The hairs on my nape stand to attention. “What subject?”
“You. Me. And Matt.”
I yank my wrists from his hold. He lets me go, and I push my chair back from him. He leans on his elbows and watches me as I fold my arms around my middle in a defensive gesture that projects vulnerability, but I don’t care. “You told her to go fuck herself, right?” I snap, knowing my guilt is what’s making me lash out.
“Many, many times.”
“And did she?” The idea that some stranger is digging into this particular subject makes my skin crawl with guilt and shame and anger.
Killian remains silent for a very long time. “Eventually she got the message,” he finally says.
That caginess is back again. I want to probe it, but the mention of Matt’s name is triggering all my self-loathing buttons, of which there are many. I jump to my feet and pace for a minute. When I turn back, Killian is on his feet too, leaning against his desk and watching me with those piercing eyes.
“Okay, is this all you have?” I wave my hand at the screen.
“You need more evidence?”
My laugh scrapes my throat. “I get the picture. But I’m capable of keeping myself safe.”
“I found you the first time you slipped up. Be thankful it was me. For all you know, the bastards could have this same picture of you.”
“I won’t slip up again. Anyway, this could all be one giant coincidence,” I reply with more hope than certainty.
His face tightens, and a muscle ticks in his jaw. “Come on. You don’t have a naïve bone in your body. Don’t insult us both by pretending otherwise, especially when you know dropping your guard can get you killed. You know a hell of a lot about Cairo that’s just as relevant now as it was four years ago. The case is still open. They’ve sent two teams since we were there, and they’ve done fuck-all at shutting those bastards down.”
“What about you? Is hiding in plain sight still working for you?”
“I’m taking extra precautions but, so far, yes.”
Frustration bites hard. “But for all we know, Ted and Shane didn’t give me up. I can’t look over my shoulder forever. I won’t.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll do it for you. All you have to do is stay put for a while.”
“No, that’s not going to work for me.”
His whole body tightens with a pre-warning that makes my stomach sink to my soles. I’m more than familiar with that look. It’s the arrogant-alpha-bastard look that used to drive me completely nuts, while shamelessly turning me on.
“I prefer we do this without any more…coercion,” he says softly.
“You didn’t say you were permanently out of the game. I assume coercion of a different sort is what you’re doing these days? Like testing drugs on unwitting victims?”
“No. Before you, I only tested that drug three times. All on myself,” he states matter-of-factly.
My arms drop in shock. “What? For a man with the staggering IQ you’re purported to have, that was exceedingly stupid, don’t you think?”
“You think I would use something like this on you before I knew whether it was harmful or not?”
I turn away, slicing my fingers through my hair. “So you tested it on yourself? Jesus. You’re insane.”
“When it comes to you, there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t do.”
I whirl around to face him. “Do you hear yourself? What if something had happened to you? How can you ask me…anyone to bear that kind of burden?”
He gives me that look. The one that holds equal parts determination and sadness. “You would never have known if I hadn’t told you.”
“But you did, and now I can’t not think about you using yourself as some sort of guinea pig.”
“You’re thinking about me. That’s enough for me.”
The ease with which he drops those bombs at me makes my head spin. “Killian…”
“When are you going to get it through your head that I exist just for you?”
My heart lurches traitorously. “I don’t want you to! For the past four years I’ve been just fine being nobody.”
“No you haven’t,” he says in that calm but conclusive way that raises my hackles.
“And how would you know?”
“You’ve been good at hiding. Exceptional, even. But I’m close to being done retracing your steps. I should have a pattern of your movements by the end of the day. From what I can already see, you’ve been busy being far from nobody.”
Oh God. “What the hell are you doing that for?”
The look he sends me this time asks why I’m even bothering. I raise my eyebrows in return. He shrugs. “I’m curious as to what you’ve been up to. Who you’ve been seeing. You can save Betty a considerable amount of effort by telling me now.”
My gaze flicks to the server tower sitting silently in the corner of the room. “Betty? You’re still naming your computers?”
“They work better when I do.”
The urge to roll my eyes washes over me. I realize I’m softening toward him and take a sharp breath. “What I’ve been up to is none of your concern.”
He stares at me for a handful of seconds and then draws his hands down his face. I catch the strain of weariness on his face, and that softening threatens again. I kill it stone-cold. “You look exhausted. If you let me go, you could get some sleep.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t waste your breath trying to find a way out, baby. But it’ll do fucking wonders for my disposition if you came to bed with me. I’d love to finish what we started by the front door.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Then I’ll have to rely on caffeine. Nala, can you organize some coffee?”
“Right away, Mr. Knight.” I jump at the robotic voice that filters in through invisible speakers. “Coffee, black, will be ready in five minutes and seventeen seconds.”
“Seriously, enough of this. I have a job, Killian. I haven’t missed a day’s work in four years.”
He returns to his desk and taps a few keys on the keyboard. Tension surrounds him like a damn aura. “You’re going to miss this one. And the next foreseeable ones.”
“Not showing up will only draw attention to my absence.”
He taps a few more keys. “I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“I could be a fucking brain surgeon with back-to-back surgeries to perform for all you know.” My teeth are clenched so tight I wonder how I can speak through them.
That earns me an amused twitch of his gorgeous lips. “You were too squeamish to apply a Band-Aid when I cut myself once, remember? You’d pass out before you went anywhere near anyone’s brain with a scalpel. Try again.”
“I’m seriously rethinking my decision not to shoot you. I need to go to work, Killian.”
He bats that response away. “Why? Money isn’t an issue for you. Hell, I would’ve found you much sooner if you’d gone on a wild spending spree. So you’re not working out of necessity.”
He’s right. The agency we worked for made sure we were well compensated. Not to mention the chunk of money I have that I don’t deserve sitting in the bank.
“No, it’s not the money.”
“Then tell me, what’s the great pull to this job?”
I don’t answer immediately because I can’t find the adequate words to describe the Punishment Club to him. He stops typing and turns to face me. Eyes riveted on my face, he slowly walks toward me. When he reaches me, he leans down and breathes in slowly. It’s a control-gathering mechanism I recognize from our past.
“Think carefully before you tell me the draw is another guy, baby.”