LITMIR.BIZ

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realized that fact, not at first. He’d just known that she was limp in his arms.

      A whole lot had sure come into crystal-clear perspective for him in those desperate moments.

      “I came to make you a deal,” Celia said as she took a step toward him.

      His head tilted to the side as he studied her. “A deal?” Now he was curious. Celia wasn’t exactly the type to make deals. She was the type to keep secrets. The type to always get the job done, no matter what.

      During Sullivan’s very brief stint with the CIA, he’d met the lovely Celia.

      And he’d fallen hard for her.

      Until I thought she’d betrayed me.

      “I have information you want.” She pulled a white envelope out of her purse. “I’ll give it to you, but you have to promise me one favor.”

      Suspicious now, he asked, “And just what favor would that be?” She had plenty of government connections. She didn’t need him now. Never had. He knew that now.

      Her smile flashed. A smile that showed off her dimples. Those dimples were so innocently deceptive. So gorgeous.

      So Celia.

      They made her appear so delicate.

      But the truth of the matter was...Celia James was a trained killer. One of the best to ever work for the CIA.

      And she doesn’t make deals.

      Yet she was standing in his office, asking for one. The whole scene felt surreal to him.

      “You have to agree before I tell you what I want.” She shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s one of those deal-in-the-dark situations. Promise me that you’ll be there when I call in this debt. That you’ll agree to what I need, and this information is yours.” She waved the bulky envelope a bit, as if tempting him.

      His gaze stayed locked on hers. He wanted to touch her. Needed to kiss her. Instead, he stood there and forced his body to be still. “Just what information is it that you think you have?” He didn’t understand why Celia thought he’d be interested in any deal she had. He’d more than made it clear that he’d never work for the CIA again. He’d barely escaped before, when he’d been caught in a web of lies and death.

      “I have your mother’s real name.” Her voice was soft, almost sympathetic.

      But he wasn’t impressed by her big reveal. He and his brothers had already uncovered his mother’s real last name. They already knew—

      “And I have the reason she was put in the Witness Protection Program.”

      Now, that information...he didn’t know. And he was sure curious about why his mother had given up her previous life, adopted an entirely new name and wound up in Austin, Texas.

      For years, Sullivan, his brothers and his sister had been working desperately to unmask the identity of the killers who had murdered their parents. One dark Texas night, two gunmen had broken into the McGuire ranch. They’d killed Sullivan’s mother, then his father. Sullivan’s sister, Ava, had managed to escape and get help, but that help hadn’t arrived in time.

      Years later, they were close—finally close—to unmasking the killers. They’d worked tirelessly on the case. When the local law enforcement authorities had given up the hunt, the family had formed a private agency, McGuire Securities. They’d kept working to solve a crime that would never be a cold case, not to them, and along the way they’d helped others with their investigation firm. McGuire Securities now had a top-notch reputation that drew in clients from the South and all along the East Coast.

      Years ago, Sullivan had sworn he would never stop searching for the truth about that dark night, not until he’d given his parents the justice they deserved.

      Celia offered the envelope to him. That white envelope looked so small and harmless in her hands, but it had the potential to change so much. “Do we have a deal?” Celia asked. “One favor, no questions asked...and you can have her past.”

      He stared at the envelope, and then he looked back up into Celia’s blue eyes. “Deal.” To learn more about his mother, he would have promised anything.

      A faint sigh slipped from Celia’s lips. She hurried toward him, closing the last of the distance between them.

      His hand lifted and he took that envelope from her. Their fingers brushed, and the touch sent a hot, hard stab of need right through him. But that was the way it was for him when Celia was near. He saw her, he touched her and he just wanted. Some things couldn’t be changed, no matter how much time passed.

      “I’ll be seeing you soon, Sully,” she said as her fingers fell away from his. “And...good luck to you.” Then she turned away and headed for the door.

      That was it? She asked for a deal then just walked away? “Same old Celia,” he murmured. “Secretive to the core, aren’t you?” He put the envelope down on his desk.

      She glanced back at him. Her red hair contrasted with her bright blue eyes—eyes that gave no hint to her emotions. “You know my life has to be about secrets.”

      Because she was an agent. CIA. Right. He got that. She was a real-life chameleon. When he’d known her before, her hair had been black. Her eyes...they’d been green. At first he’d thought he was seeing the real Celia back then. He hadn’t known just how much of a mask she truly presented to the world. Then he’d gone to a team meeting a few days later, and she’d been blonde. With bright blue eyes.

      The same eyes I see now.

      She’d been able to change her appearance so quickly. She’d been able to become someone else with total ease, even adopting a new accent on command. She’d told him once that she could only be real with him.

      With everyone else, she had an image to keep.

      I should have believed her. But he hadn’t. When the danger had closed in, he’d turned his back on her. “Would it matter,” Sullivan asked her, aware that his voice had roughened, “if I told you that I was sorry?”

      Something happened then. For just a moment, he saw a flash of emotion in her eyes.

      Pain.

      He hated that he’d hurt her. If he could, he’d take away any pain that she felt. He’d make sure she never felt pain again.

      “Are you?” Celia asked him, cocking her head just a bit, as if it was now her turn to study him. “Are you sorry?”

      He stared at her a moment, the past and present merging for him. He’d been drawn to Celia from the moment they first met. Without hesitation, he’d given in to his hunger for her. The passion had been hot, raging out of control, and when their world had imploded, he’d thought she’d been using him. Seducing him.

      He hadn’t realized—not until too late—that she’d loved him.

      I lost her. “Yes,” Sullivan said gruffly. “I am.”

      She smiled, and it was a smile that held bite. “Good. Then maybe when I come calling for that debt, you won’t hesitate.”

      “I won’t.” He crossed the room and hurried to her side. He reached out to her.

      But Celia put up her hand, stopping him. “Don’t.”

      He wanted to touch her. Hold her. “Why can’t we start again?” Did he sound desperate? Maybe. So what? When she’d been hurt on that last case, when she’d been lying so still on the ground, everything had changed for him. His priorities had shifted instantly.

      Getting justice for his parents? Hell, yes, he would do that. He’d made a vow to himself, to his family, and he would keep it.

      But getting Celia back in his life? Back in his bed? That was his immediate goal. Holding tightly to her and never letting go had become his obsession.

      “We can’t

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