The room was still pitch black when Kat became aware of her surroundings, a heavy lethargy swimming through her, too much tequila and honesty. The pain of meeting Amanda’s family and conveying her body over to them had wrung every last ounce of energy she’d had left. They would never know that their daughter had been responsible for stopping evil the world over. They would just think she had been a victim of an unsolved murder, the details buried in the classified stronghold of the CIA.

Splintered silvery pieces of awareness crackled across her throbbing memory: Wicked picking her up and getting her in the truck, loading up the motorcycle as she tried to get her bearings in his front seat.

The words crashed through her again. I don’t think working together any more is a good idea. The anxiety that caused made her open her eyes and sit up in bed, then clutch her head as she groaned softly.

It would have been a lot worse if Wicked hadn’t made her swallow the pain tablets and water to chase them down.

She was in his apartment, some place she had never been before, in his bed, also someplace she’d dreamed about but had never visited. She wasn’t exactly sober, nor was she as wasted as when she’d fallen asleep.

She pushed the covers off her, the delicious scent of the man wafting up and filling her with his unique smell. She used the bathroom, rinsing out her mouth and gulping more water. She was aptly named and had the uncanny ability to maneuver in unfamiliar surroundings. It came in handy as a spy.

She found the doorway to the living room and slipped through, her eyes adjusting to the shadowy contours of the room. He’d left a light on in the kitchen, and it illuminated his neat and beautifully furnished apartment. The man had class and style. That surprised the hell out of her. She’d never thought of Wicked as sophisticated, although she did remember how well he filled out the tux after their mission in London.

There was a bookcase to her left, and she walked over to it. The light from the kitchen was bright enough to see…two medals, one gold, one silver. She reached out and touched one, the metal cool beneath her fingertips. She leaned in closer to see photos of Rion with the medals around his neck. He was younger, but he had the same intense look about him. She’d had no idea he’d competed, didn’t know that he even rowed.

There was so much she didn’t know about him, and that was on her. Their connection had been tenuous over the years, but the fact that she didn’t know him better made her close her eyes in sadness.

She’d been so angry, so heartbroken…and so guilty. It was the guilt that had pushed her into shunning him after Phoenix’s death. She had loved her fiancé, very much. But after five years of running and denying the truth, she had to admit that she wasn’t in love with him. It was distance from the confusing emotions she’d had for both men that now gave her clarity. If she’d married Phoenix, it would have been a colossal mistake.

There was movement to her right, and she turned her head at the sound. Wicked was sprawled on the couch, his long limbs supple and muscular, the curves and contours of his body limned in shadow.

Drawn to him as she had been from the moment she’d met him, she moved toward the couch. A throw, much too small for his large frame, was bunched around his middle; the smooth skin of his bare chest gleamed in the dim light.

She reached down and untangled it, drawing it up his shoulders. Her heart ached for him and how she’d treated him for so many years because she couldn’t handle her own damn emotions or the reality of losing Phoenix when Wicked had promised to keep him safe.

She’d been on a rampage, hunting the worst criminals with no conscience, no moral center. Eliminating monsters helped her to close down, keep herself guarded. All that time looking for any shred of a clue as to solving the mystery of her father’s disappearance.

But her barriers had begun to break down ever since she’d been ambushed and Rion and the team had come to rescue her. She liked to think she was invincible, but she wasn’t.

There was a strength in Rion that she recognized, and her whole being came alive when he was near. Without realizing it, she reached out, pushing his hair off his forehead. The dim light caught the hint of russet in the soft brown locks. His eyes opened slowly, and he held her gaze for a long moment. Then suddenly he reached for her.

“Are you all right, babe?” he asked sleepily, pulling her onto the sofa with him.

Kat didn’t bother fighting it and went willingly, needing his arms around her. He shifted her back against him, his body curling around hers, and she settled with a slow breath. She’d never been so comfortable in her life. “Yes,” she murmured.

“Good. Can I get you anything?” He kissed her temple and snuggled warmly as Kat shook her head, drifting into an exhausted, alcohol-induced sleep. She realized for the first time in years she’d experienced a role reversal, feeling truly safe and protected. So rare, she thought, and she wanted to keep it close; it smothered the loneliness and the guilt she could never escape.

The sun was playing with the horizon when Kat woke. She lay still, absorbing the incredible comfort of Wicked wrapped around her. She’d never felt this with another man. She didn’t want to lose this astonishing closeness she’d found with Wicked during their time in Kumma. Ever since then, she’d started to release the barriers that were making her miserable and keeping her in a place that wouldn’t allow not only her own growth but her happiness. Frowning, she felt the sting of her loneliness and inched closer to Wicked.

His arms tightened around her and she sighed.

“You got Amanda all settled.”

She tipped her head back and met his gaze. “Yes, it was tough, but they were very nice people. I really didn’t have any doubt. They raised her to be the person I knew. I’m going to miss her.”

He nodded. “I couldn’t imagine losing any of my team. They’re a part of me.”

She cocked a look at him, humbled by his confession. Wicked was always so closed, and now that she had let the chip fall from her shoulder, she wanted to know why. But things weren’t easy between them or resolved by a long shot. This was all new territory to her.

She shifted onto her back and her breath caught when he slid his hand over her hip. He propped himself up on his elbow, so he could look down into her face. It made her more aware of him, and that he touched her with an almost natural ease. “Wow, not something you usually acknowledge. Are you getting soft with age?”

Wicked looked away, and she was immediately sorry for ribbing him. “We both know that emotion makes us weak.”

“I don’t agree with that. Emotion makes us who we are. The dedication we pour into our jobs is directly connected to the passion we feel for what we do. That doesn’t make you weak, Rion. It makes you as strong as hell.”

He shrugged, showing her he was either burying his “weakness” or he was disagreeing with her in a noncommittal way.

“Something has changed, Rion. Are you ready to talk to me about it?”

“We just end up fighting, Kat. What’s the point? If you don’t ask for a reassignment, I will.”

Okay, so he was digging in his heels, and she couldn’t really blame him. She’d always thought that Wicked would be agreeable to talking about what happened between them. But the stark look in his eyes made her heart drop. “I know I haven’t been willing—”

“Kat, we should just drop it. You’re still drunk, and we both know what drunken confessions do.”

This job will rob you. Yana’s words came back to her. It had already robbed her of so much, least of all her wonderful father. She panicked for a moment, realizing that she could really lose Rion forever. If he walked away from her now, they would always have this between them. Suddenly Kat was damned tired of sparring with him when most of the time she just wanted to…kiss him. God, how she wanted to know what that would feel like. Her guilt had ridden her for so long, mixing with the longing she knew she couldn’t ever deny, not fully. She could drink it way for a bit, argue with him and even tell him how much she hated him. But it was now or never.

Her panic gave way to a strange soaring calm. This was the right thing to do. She knew it was right.

She fixed her gaze on him, on his grumpy, brutally handsome face, her throat closing up for entirely different reasons when she recognized not only the determination but the resignation in his eyes. Ah, God, Rion, she thought, I’ve been so unfair.

Her heart sore from the torment she saw stamped on his face, desperate now for him to give her a second chance, the words spilled out of her mouth from a place inside her that knew the truth of her desires. “Phoenix told me once that if anything ever happened to him, he knew he could depend on you to take care of me.”

Wicked didn’t move so much as a muscle, and he stared at her. His jaw was unshaven and grimly set, and this close she could feel the rigid tension in him. She tried to will away the ache, tried to collect a modicum of common sense, tried to not want him. But there was no denying a truth that had been there more than five years ago. This truth had been written on her heart from the moment she laid eyes on him.

He is for me.

Feeling totally shredded inside, Kat battled all the niggling doubts. She knew her feelings for Wicked had been wrong when she was engaged to Phoenix. But, the reality of where they were now spoke to her, your fiancé is gone. No one will get hurt.

She didn’t think she could stand this awful unsatisfied ache throbbing through her whole body. Feeling as if she was being let out of prison, aware that Rion was wrestling with his own emotions.

God, he was so alone. Distant from her, distant from his team, and if she knew his family, distant from them, too. A terrible fullness settled around her heart. And she remembered how safe it felt to be close to him when he’d been supporting her over Amanda.

Kat clenched her jaw, experiencing another heavy rush, her whole body responding to the memory. She rose up off her back and turned onto her side to face him on the couch. He leaned back off his elbow, his head supported by the arm of the couch.

She was losing it, really losing it. It was almost as if he’d reached out and touched her, caressing her in the most intimate way. Never in her life had Kat acted on impulse, but she acted on impulse now. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and she was fortified with a crazy kind of determination. With a soft sound, she bent down and pressed her face against his, her lips against his jaw.

Wicked’s body went still, the tension jumping between them. She didn’t have a plan. She hadn’t thought it out, but just when she thought he was going to dash her hopes, he shifted, and she got a good look at his face. Seeing the agony in his eyes, she simply reacted.

Her voice catching on a sob, she spoke his name, softly, tenderly.

Immobilized by the onslaught of need, Kat framed his face with her hands, the shock on his face evident. In his eyes she experienced the heavy, surging feeling of two halves coming together, the resolute power of two hearts finding each other, the stunning rush of wanting. It had been so long denied, it was all so much—so much need, so much unsatisfied hunger, so much raw emotion.

She took his mouth, hoarsely whispering his name, pushing him onto his back. At first he didn’t respond, as if the sexual energy between them had zapped him into immobility. She flattened herself against him, still holding his face against her palms, his heart pounding in tandem with hers. She brushed her mouth across his, and the surge of raw heat was intoxicating.

She opened her mouth, needing more of him. Wicked shuddered, grinding his mouth against hers as his hands slipped into her hair then spread wide, turning her head for a closer, better angle.

Their past melted away for the first time since his brother had come between them both in life and in death. His hard body to her soft curves, his sizzling heat to hers, he took her mouth, and Kat yielded everything to him, her need fired higher by his.

All her doubts were simply incinerated by that hot, wet, plundering kiss. Making a low sound of restraint, he tried to tear his mouth away, but she grasped his face, holding him to her, unable to bear him telling her it was too late.

If they didn’t finish this, if they didn’t take this to the final completion, she would simply disintegrate into a million regretful pieces.

“Rion! Are you here? Why is Phoenix’s bike in the back of your truck?”

The sound of his name pierced the fog of her need, and she suddenly realized that was why he was trying to break the kiss.

She let him go and turned her head. The sound of frantic footsteps clicked down the hall and Selene came around the corner, his key in her hand.

When she saw them on the couch, her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Oh, God. This was a nightmarish disaster. His sister.

“Kat?” Her expression changed from confused to shocked, then chagrin. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry to have to barge in here. But you weren’t answering your phone, and it’s urgent.” She looked shaken to the core, and not just from seeing the two of them practically devouring each other.

Kat scrambled off Wicked as he rose to a sitting position on the couch, his hair a delicious mess around his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dad. He’s just been taken to St. Vincent’s. They think it’s a heart attack. Mom’s frantic. We need you.”

“You and Dad might need me, but Susan doesn’t,” he said as Kat watched something cold and hard settle in Wicked’s eyes at the mention of his mother.

The ache in her chest worsened, and she gripped her arms, folding them against the feelings rising in her. He stood and turned to her. “You can stay here if you’d like—”

Let him face his mother alone when she could help to buffer it? She shook her head, realizing that everyone had blamed him. It must have been awful for him to have to go home and face his family. She could only imagine how crushing it had been. “No, I’m coming with you. Let me get my boots.” He wouldn’t have to face this alone.

She left the room and grabbed up one boot, then the other and slipped them on. Outside the room, she heard Wicked say, “Don’t mention this…between Kat and me. Okay?”

“Of course not, Rion. I would never violate your privacy ever.”

“I don’t know how to explain—”

“You explain when and however you wish. I love you. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Thank you, Selene.”

Kat made enough noise as she came out of the room, so they would know she was coming back. She entered the room as they parted. She could only be grateful to Selene for being a solid support for Rion. Maybe he hadn’t been as alone as she’d thought.

Wicked sat in the truck with Kat, unable to process what had just happened in his apartment, on his couch. His dick was still throbbing hard. He glanced over at her. But she was looking out the windshield deep in thought.

He’d never in his wildest dreams thought she’d ever…what? Forgive him? Kiss him like she wanted to melt into him? Melting, damn, he was still burning up. That had been some hot kiss. More than he could have imagined. It clued him in that she wasn’t just blowing smoke. She was serious about talking this through. It was what he’d hoped for. His only worry was that they would end up on even worse terms than they were now…well, not now. Had it only been fifteen minutes since she’d rocked his world?

Their history piled up on him. He had loved his brother, and from the time Susan gave birth to the tiny baby, Wicked had taken him into his heart.

Everybody liked Phoenix. He’d been born with an outgoing and charismatic personality, popular and handsome, easy with the ladies with an innate charm, and like his big brother, good at sports. There hadn’t been anything that Phoenix didn’t excel at, and at the age of eighteen, he had given up everything to follow his big brother into the military.

He rubbed at his eyes, his head full of memories. So much had happened internally and bringing everything out in the open seemed very strange to him. His hand tightened on the wheel as more old memories surfaced. The secret he harbored had its roots a long time ago—eight years, to be exact. Phoenix had been twenty-five and he had already excelled in military service. It had been just before Christmas when he told everyone he was getting married.

Wicked had gone to San Diego airport and been blindsided when Phoenix had shown up with a beautiful redhead with wide green eyes, and strong mind of her own.

Without even realizing how she had changed his life, he knew he’d never be the same.

“You’re thinking hard over there,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

“I’m still working through that…kiss. Damn, Kat. You like to throw curve balls.”

She smiled. Dammit she actually smiled at him. “I have always enjoyed keeping you on your toes. But that wasn’t a curve ball. I told you I was serious, and I was worried you thought I was just giving you empty words. I mean business, Wicked. I don’t want us to…lose touch.”

“Lose touch? If I transfer to a different team you mean?”

“You can’t transfer out of that team. They are as much your brothers as Phoenix was. They love you, and you should let them know you, the real you, Rion.”

“I’m not sure they would like the real me.”

“Don’t say that.” Kat set her hand on his forearm, and it was ridiculous how good that felt. He’d wanted…so much with her and had been afraid to even think it. This was going to take some getting used to. She squeezed, then let go.

That’s when the guilt hit him like a ton of bricks. This had been Phoenix’s woman, and if he hadn’t died, she would be married to him. They might have even had a few kids. Back then, he wasn’t sure that Kat was cut out for CIA work. But after Phoenix died, she had changed, hardened. Had she been punishing herself all these years? An uneasy feeling unfolded in his gut. His hands tightened on the wheel.

“Can you give me some time to assimilate this? See how my dad is doing and deal with my family?”

She nodded. “Just so long as you understand that I want to talk about this and get everything out in the open. We need to do that to move on.” He didn’t like that funny catch to her voice.

Move on? He was afraid to ask what she meant by that. He wasn’t going to kid himself. He’d been holding a torch for Kat for eight long years. The uneasy feeling turned into something sharper, and suddenly Wicked’s heart felt too big for his chest. His whole body tensed, and he licked his lips, forcing himself to use a quiet and easy tone. “Fair enough. It’s been a long time coming.”

Kat’s voice was soft, too. “It has, Rion and that’s been chiefly my fault.”

She blew his mind again, taking the blame. She had never given him a chance to explain or to make sense of the fucked up, jumbled up, catastrophic day when he’d lost them both.

Was there a way to go back and pick up the pieces? When something so precious and fragile as trust had been so broken? The longing in him hurt more than he expected.

Fifteen minutes later, the hospital elevator door swished closed. Kat pushed the button and Selene watched them both. He couldn’t blame her. This whole thing would go over like a lead balloon when his mother saw her.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself to see his mother—Susan. When he opened his eyes, Selene was staring up at him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “It’ll be all right,” she murmured.

“Like hell it will,” he said, and she gave him a wry smile and nodded.

His neck felt tight, exactly like he felt before a mission went bad. He’d felt that way when Echo had been blown up and severely injured and when they’d lost Blue. It had been even worse when they’d found him with the Golovkins.

The elevator slid to a stop, the jolt making his stomach rise, and he settled into his SEAL mental state. He was bulletproof. Nothing could penetrate. Emotions made him weak. Hadn’t Susan taught him that? They filed out as the door opened. Keeping that thought firmly in place, he turned toward the cardiac unit and tried to loosen his shoulders. He paused outside his father’s room as Selene entered.

Letting his breath go, he schooled his face into an even expression and entered. His mother was giving his dad a drink of water through a straw, and she turned, a compressed, annoyed look around her mouth. “Well, it’s about time you got here,” she said, her tone sharp with recrimination. “We didn’t even know if you were in town.” She wiped his dad’s mouth with a towel, then set the glass down on the bedside stand, clearly miffed by his late arrival, and looked back at them. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Kat. “With the condition your father is in, you could at least have the decency to let us know you’re back home.”

“Sorry, Susan. We got in late yesterday and—”

“Katherine. How lovely to see you. What brings you here? My, it’s been…”

“Five years,” Kat said. “Wicked and I ran into each other. We were just catching up.” Kat gave her a smile, then went over to the bed. The head had been raised, and his father was lying there, the oxygen tube in place, his hands on the covers.

“Katherine, it’s good to see you.”

She bent down and covered his hand and squeezed. “Hello, Ares.”

His fingers engulfed hers. Then he looked at Wicked. “Orion, my boy. It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Sorry, Dad,” he said, his throat tight as he crossed the room, Kat making room for him. “I’ve been out of the country on and off for six months.”

“I understand.”

Susan started straightening the bed covers, her movements agitated. “After all your father has done for you, you could show some family interest.”

He had to bite his tongue. She knew full well why he didn’t come around often. She hated the sight of him. “I’ll do better, Dad,” he said softly.

His dad smiled at him, well aware of his wife’s animosity toward his son. Wicked had endured that and more from Susan, but he’d also had to weather his dad’s heavy disappointment and his grief at the loss of Phoenix. Wicked knew he worried that his remaining son wouldn’t come home, but Wicked couldn’t let that influence him. He had a mission to do.

“Well, if you ask me. You should think about ending your service. With your dad in the hospital and most likely forced into retirement, what will become of the business?”

“Don’t start on him, Mom,” Selene said, shooting her a warning look.

“It’s not like Phoenix could take over because…well, he saw to that.”

Wicked didn’t move a muscle. “Selene has been working with Dad for years. She’s a good choice.”

“Selene? That’s ridiculous. She knows what she’s supposed to do.”

“Get married and have babies,” Selene muttered.

“I’d say that decision belongs to Selene,” Wicked said with strained patience.

His dad grasped his wrist, his chest falling and rising with alarming speed. “Stop this,” he said in a breathless way that worried Wicked.

The wild fluctuations on his monitoring equipment alarmed him even more. Susan glared at him. He was only sorry that he wasn’t the golden son for her. No, she’d lost that when Phoenix had defied his parents and joined the Marines.

Kat ducked around the bed and took Susan’s arm. “Let’s go for a walk and catch up. Give your son and daughter a chance to visit with their dad.”

Susan drew back her shoulders, as if insulted. “I’m staying.”

“No, Susan, go,” her husband said. “Take some air.”

Wicked could only sigh in relief as Kat escorted her out of the room. He gave her a grateful look before they went out the door.

His dad settled down, and they talked about the business. It was his life, and Wicked wasn’t sure how his dad would fare if he couldn’t go to the office.

There was nothing they could ever do to appease Susan. Her bitterness was just eating her whole from the inside out. Phoenix was the only one who could put her in a good mood. With him gone, he and Selene would have to accept that Susan was lost to them and to herself.

This added turmoil to his mind was making it difficult for him to work out the tangled mess that snarled his and Kat’s relationship. He wondered if it could be worked out or if she would fall into the kind of bitterness that had ruined his mother.