Mendez wanted to cross the distance between them and wrap her in his arms. He was pissed as hell—still—but the urge to have her was nearly as strong as the anger. He hadn’t gotten over the way she’d broken down in the van. She’d cried in silence, but he’d felt the tremors shaking her body. And he’d once more wanted to slay dragons for her.

How was it possible to be angry at a person and want to possess them at the same time? To know that you’d only ever felt like your best self when you were with the person who’d betrayed you?

Because that’s how she made him feel, and it tore him apart inside. The twin pulls of hate and desire. Hell, he was old enough to know that hate and anger often made passion more intense. If he gave in to this thing, it would be heated beyond imagining.

He wanted to. And he didn’t. There was something about giving in to his urges that felt like ignoring his convictions.

But was that really it? Or was he scared he might enjoy it so much he’d be tempted to forgive her?

Her blue eyes glittered with what he knew were tears. She wouldn’t shed them. He knew that by now too. This woman was strong beyond measure. Stronger than when he’d loved her a lifetime ago. She’d had to be.

“What I really want is your forgiveness. But I know I’m not getting it,” she said. “So I’ll take what I can get of you, Johnny. If that means all I get is your body, then yes, that’s what I’ll take.”

His cock ached. His balls throbbed with arousal. So easy to turn her around, yank her pants down, and shove himself inside her. Take what she offered and give them both pleasure in the process.

He rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired. Exhausted from the past few days, the stress and adrenaline. The emotions. He hadn’t bargained on those. Emotions were something he couldn’t afford to indulge in, and yet he’d been swimming in them since Yuri had unmasked her.

Drowning in them. Fuck.

“Get some sleep,” he said tiredly. “Neither of us really wants to deal with this shit right now.”

She stared at him for a second, not speaking, and then she turned and disappeared into the bathroom. He’d thought she might argue with him, but she hadn’t. He went over to the table and sank down in front of the computer again. Maybe something had changed in the past few minutes, but he doubted it. Still, he needed something to concentrate on besides the idea of Kat removing her clothing in the bathroom.

The shower fired up and he had to shift in his seat to take some of the pressure off his rock-hard dick. Even exhausted, he wanted her. Even heartsick and filled with an increasing sense of impending doom, he wanted her.

She was an itch beneath his skin. A mosquito buzzing in his ear. A compulsion that threatened to tip across the line into addiction.

It was more than pussy. It had always been more than that with her. Whether she called herself Valentina or Kat or something else entirely, it didn’t matter. His body needed hers. It had been that way between them from the very first moment. Long before he’d loved her, his body had known that the two of them were combustible in a way he’d never experienced before. Or since.

Get up. Go to her. One last time.

Because tomorrow would end it, one way or the other. They’d either die trying to get to Turov or they’d succeed. If they succeeded, they’d part ways. Probably forever.

The sharp pain beneath his breastbone had nothing to do with losing her again. Nothing at all. With a primal growl, he shoved to his feet and stalked toward the bathroom.

* * *

Kat stood beneath the spray, eyes closed as the water rolled down her face, taking any stray tears with it. Cool air whooshed into the room a split second before she heard movement. Her eyes popped open. Johnny stood outside the shower enclosure, hands shoved in pockets, gaze troubled.

He was fighting himself. Fighting his nature. She saw it and her heart bled. He had more honor, more heroic valor than any man she’d ever known. And she was his breaking point. It didn’t make her proud.

There was no pride in causing pain.

Their eyes tangled through clouds of steam. He reached behind him and yanked his shirt up and off with one hand. Joy cascaded through her. Oh, she knew he hadn’t forgiven her. That wasn’t what this was about.

But he needed her, and that was enough.

He shed his jump boots. His fingers flicked open the button on his waistband. But then he hesitated, and her heart rate slowed to a crawl. She was afraid to speak his name, afraid that would be the thing that had him turning on his heel and retreating.

Instead, she opened her arms. His gaze crawled down her body, from her collarbones to the gentle swells of her breasts to her waist, hips, and then lingered on the triangle at the vee of her thighs. She didn’t move. Just held her arms open.

He rolled into motion in the next second, yanking open the shower door and striding in. He was still wearing his pants but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he swept her up and back against the tile, pressing her body between him and the cool wall. His mouth took hers.

Kat whimpered with the rightness of it as his tongue plunged between her lips. The water pounded down on them. He filled his hands with her breasts, pinching her nipples into aching points. She ran her hands up his sides, exploring the taut ridges of muscle, across his pecs, and then down to his waistband. His pants were soaked, and her pulse skipped. So incredibly sexy the way he’d strode in and taken possession of her mouth, and to hell with his pants.

She pushed them down his hips, aching to free him—but before she could get her hands on him, he grasped her beneath the arms and lifted her against the tile, his body pressing her relentlessly into the hard ceramic.

She wrapped her legs around him instinctively. And then she twined her arms around his neck. One of his hands slipped between her legs. But he didn’t touch her. Instead, she felt him fumbling with his pants, pulling himself free—

And then he was there—oh God, right there—thrusting into her body until he was seated to the hilt. He tore his mouth from hers. His eyes bored into hers. So many things glittering in that gaze. She couldn’t sort them all out, but agony was the primary emotion.

“Johnny,” she choked out.

His brows drew together hard, his expression so pained that she thought he might be physically hurting. But then he dropped his forehead to the wall, his cheek against hers. The beating of his heart was hard and sure. Love crashed through her, tearing her apart with its bittersweetness.

“I hate you,” he whispered, his voice echoing against the tile, slipping into her ear to stab her in the heart.

His cock throbbed deep in her body. Little bolts of lightning rocked her with every slight movement they made. Her heart ached but her body was on fire.

She squeezed his neck and turned to press her lips to his ear. “I know, lyubov moya. I know.”

He seized her lips again, his body rocking deep into hers. Over and over again they strained together as the water beat down and the steam curled. Pleasure spiraled through her, tighter and tighter—and then he ground his hips against her and stars exploded behind her eyes.

She tore her mouth from his, gasping in air as her orgasm rolled over her like a shock wave. A second later he stiffened, groaning as he came deep inside her.

She thought that would be it. That he’d withdraw and walk away. Instead, he let her down slowly. Her legs were jelly as her feet hit the floor. He steadied her, and when she looked up he was frowning.

“I fucked that up,” he said.

Her heart hammered like she’d outrun a bear. Her body was gooey and shapeless. She could barely form a coherent thought.

“It was perfect,” she managed.

“No, I meant at the end. I came inside you. I should have been more careful.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “It’s fine. I have an implant. Makes the most sense in this business.”

He nodded, but his expression didn’t soften.

“Not because I’m having sex with every mission partner,” she added. “But I’m a woman in a hard profession. There are men who think that gives them license, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Has that happened to you?”

“Once,” she said. “He didn’t get far.”

He nodded. And then he stepped under the spray, letting it wash over his head. He managed to toe off the wet pants and left them in a sodden heap in a corner of the shower. She watched him, loving the sight of his hard body as water found the grooves of his muscles on the way down. He was a living waterfall, and everywhere the water went was somewhere she wanted to explore.

She touched one of the v-muscles on his abdomen and he jerked, his hot eyes boring into hers. “I know this isn’t forever,” she said. “I know you haven’t forgiven me. But I want as much of you tonight as I can get.”

He didn’t say anything. She dropped to her knees on the rubber mat and took him in her mouth. Just when she thought he might push her away, he put a hand behind her head and let her take him where she wanted to go.