Ashley lay there listening to Cole’s heart settle along with her own and wondered what he’d meant.

Be damned? Was he trying to say she was stuck with him? A slow smile crossed her lips. God, she hoped so. She’d wanted this for so long, forever.

“What are you so happy about?” he asked, his face still buried in her hair.

“How do you know I’m happy?” she asked, trying to mask her tone.

“I can practically hear you purring.” He shifted so he could look down at her. His eyes searched her face and she felt her body warming again just looking up at him.

“I don’t purr,” she joked. “I’m happy you stayed tonight.”

His eyebrows shot up and a frown replaced his smile. “I’m ignoring that.” He nodded to his jacket, which hung over the back of her kitchen chair.

She heard it now, the buzzing.

“Do you have to…” she started to ask, but he answered quickly by shaking his head.

“It can wait, for now.” He leaned in and kissed her again. Instantly, she felt every part of her catch fire again.

She wanted to ask him to stay the entire night, but she had a feeling that he’d avoid answering. Instead, she held on tight as he built her up again and took her there, on the sofa, as the snow fell outside.

This time, when their heartbeats settled, he tossed a blanket she’d thrown over the back of the sofa over them. His arms were wrapped around her, her head resting comfortably on his chest.

The buzzing from his phone had stopped.

“Won’t you get in trouble for not answering?” she asked, holding back a yawn.

“No.” He was running his hands through her hair, causing her to relax even further.

“What exactly is it you do?” she asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t tell her.

“This and that.”

“Like?” She waited.

“Catch bad guys,” he supplied.

She sat up, the blanket dropping away from her. “I knew it.” She pointed at him. “You are a spy.”

He chuckled. “No, I’m not.” He tried to pull her back down, but she stopped him. She wanted to see his eyes, to see if she could tell if he was telling the truth.

“If you’re not a spy, then what?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Mason went to work with his dad at the FBI.”

“So, you’re still in contact with Mason?” He shifted, his eyes searching hers. She thought she saw a hint of jealousy behind them.

“Unlike you, I’ve stayed in contact with almost everyone.” She shifted again, taking the blanket with her. Her mind wandered momentarily when the movement caused his chest and stomach to be exposed.

She’d seen him shirtless plenty of times during basketball practice at school, but things had changed since then.

Now, there was a sexy line of dark hair that traveled from his navel to below the blankets. He pushed his arm behind his head, propping it up so he could watch her. More muscles were exposed, causing her mouth to go dry.

She hadn’t taken the time to explore and enjoy him as much as she had wanted.

“What is Mason up to?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Who?” she asked, her eyes traveling slowly back to his.

His smile grew. “Our old buddy?” he hinted.

“Oh.” Her mind cleared. “Working for his dad.”

“You said that, I mean…” He shook his head and sighed heavily. Then he surprised her by reaching up and cupping her face. “Let’s not talk about another man while I’m here.”

“Are you seeing someone?” she blurted out. She’d been thinking about it since the first night he’d shown up in her flat. Maybe he was in Paris with his wife and that was why he had to sneak around. Maybe he wasn’t a spy after all, but a cheating husband.

Cole laughed, hard. His hands dropped away from her.

“You ask me that after we just did…” His eyebrows wiggled. “Why not before?” Then he sobered. “Would you have slept with me anyway if I was? Or worse, married?”

“No,” she answered quickly, but she knew she would have dreamed about it for the rest of her life.

“Good.” He pulled her back down to him. “No, I’m not with someone or married.”

“I’m not either.”

“I know.” He was silent for a moment. “It wouldn’t have stopped me from trying to get this, to get you.”

She glanced up at him, holding back a smile. She could feel him grow hard against her hip. She quickly straddled him as he smiled up at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, playfully.

“What do you think?” She leaned back, letting him slowly into her again.

“Enjoying myself,” she said, slowly moving her hips. Her hands roamed over his chest and arms, as she took her time exploring him like she’d dreamed of doing for years. “This time, I’m in charge,” she said.

“Whatever you want,” he said softly, his hands going to her hips, holding her, pushing her, taking her.

She tried to hold onto him after, but her body and mind were too foggy from the exertion, and she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

When she woke, the loft was flooded with sunlight and she knew instantly that she was alone.

He’d covered her with a thick throw blanket. Pushing herself free, she sat up and saw the note.

Wrapping her robe around her, she moved over to the table and read what he’d jotted down on one of her sketch book pages.

I wish I could stay, but duty calls. I’m heading out of town later today and won’t have a chance to see you again. I should have told you this to your face, but… I’m a coward. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know… Thanks for the painting. -C

---

Cole hated leaving Ashley. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But the buzzing of his cell phone had woken him just before dawn.

He had snuck out of her place, much like he had done the previous two nights. Once again, he stopped and looked at her latest paintings. He desperately wanted to take another, but the one he’d shipped home would have to do for now. He didn’t know when he’d be back home, but he had wanted it so badly, he’d jumped at the chance to keep it.

Now, as he made his way back to the base of operations through the empty streets of Paris, he tried to clear his mind of Ashley. He had several more weeks of work on the case and things were strained.

They’d followed the intel to Paris, but every lead they’d followed had dried up the second they’d stepped foot in France. Just last night, they’d gotten word that there was a possibility that the items had moved to Russia. Which meant another long trip with multiple identities, more danger, and more time looking over his shoulder.

He did so now, as a precaution, and knew he was the only one on the streets. He let himself into the hotel room and was immediately assaulted with questions from Lee, his partner.

The man was half Cole’s size, but Cole knew he could easily drop him if he wanted to.

“Where have you been?” Lee stood in his path. The room they’d been living in for the past few weeks was as tidy as ever.

He glanced around and found Raul lounging on the sofa, watching the news with the sound off.

“You had him.” He nodded to Raul.

Raul was the senior agent and the most skilled one on their current mission.

“I didn’t call him, I called you.” Lee blocked him from entering the room again.

Cole held in a sigh. “I had something to do. I was across town.” He faked right, then spun to the left and walked into the room.

“We could have used you, buddy.” Raul sat up and watched him remove his jacket.

“Like I said”—he glanced between the pair of them—“I was across town.” He sat down and pulled a bag of chips from the mini-bar area. He could have used another full meal, but knew they were probably going to be on the move for the next few hours, since everything was already packed up.

“Something new has come up,” Lee supplied.

“What?” he asked, as he bent down and grabbed a soda from the fridge.

“Our CI told us of a movement tomorrow. There’s a meeting this morning...”

Cole was seriously starting to doubt the information they’d gotten from their confidential informant lately.

“With whom?” he asked, taking a drink of the sugary drink, knowing this was probably his breakfast.

“Wouldn’t say, only that they speak Russian.”

Cole sighed heavily. “One of you two really needs to learn another language.”

“I speak perfectly fine Mandarin,” Lee said in Mandarin.

“That’s because you were born there,” Cole answered him in the same tongue. He added, “Stupid,” in English, since there wasn’t a word for it that he knew of in Mandarin.

Lee smiled. “Raul speaks Spanish.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Children.” He stood up, dumped the empty bag in the trash, then took the soda with him to the bathroom. “I’ll grab a shower, then we can head out.”

“We roll in twenty,” Raul supplied, as he lay back down on the sofa.

As Cole stepped into the lukewarm shower, he thought of how he’d ended up where he was.

Knowing three languages had helped make him one of the most sought-after field agents. Being best friends with Mason also had helped. Mason had talked him out of joining the military and convinced him to take a job under his father with him at the FBI.

At first, he’d thought he’d be nothing more than a paper pusher, but after his Special Agent Selection System aptitude test, he’d been moved ahead. His SASS scores were some of the highest they had seen. He’d been given his Top Secret-SCI clearance, a special age waiver, and had trained at a top-secret field office in the States.

His first mission came less than two months later. Since then, he’d learned three more languages, the basics of them anyway. Enough to get around and ask questions. He’d traveled to almost every country in the world, been shot at more times than he could count, and had numerous liaisons with beautiful women, all, of course, in the name of gaining secrets.

He’d hated lying to Ashley, but he didn’t really think of himself as a spy. He was more like a spy catcher. He hunted people who stole things, expensive things that had more than just monitary value. Plain and simple. And he was good at his job. Really good.

Less than twenty minutes later, the three of them filled the van with all their bags and headed out across the city to meet their next contact. When they pulled in front of the Arc de Triomphe, he was ready for the meeting. He had so many wires strapped to him—hidden cameras, microphones, and tracking devices—that he wondered if he could pick up the local radio station. He had two guns strapped to his body, along with three knives and his body armor.

He’d learned early on in the job to never underestimate a simple meeting.

Standing under the arch he pretended to take pictures with his phone and acted like a tourist for the next five minutes.

When the woman with jet-black hair approached him in a sleek black overcoat, every muscle in his body went on guard. She was known in Russian circles as Badumna, the black spider. One of the best hitmen-for-hire in the world, she left a trail of blood everywhere she went. It was unheard of for anyone to walk away from an encounter with her.

He knew instantly that it was a setup and didn’t give her a chance to speak. He reached for his gun, but before he could wrap his fingers around it, he felt the first bullet tear through his armor and into his skin.

As tourists ran around screaming, he lay there looking up at the arch and the sky thinking about holding Ashley again.