LITMIR.BIZ

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She still had the scars to prove it—scars that marked her on the inside and out.

      She cleared her throat and called, “Come in!”

      The door swung open. Aaron “Deuce” Porter stood on the other side of the threshold. His green gaze swept between them. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” His voice was low.

      “You’re not,” Rachel said flatly.

      Deuce’s lips twisted a bit. Deuce had been with the EOD for years—long before Rachel had come aboard. She’d worked several missions with him and learned quickly why the brown-haired agent had earned the moniker of Deuce.

      The man could blend like no other. Undercover missions were his specialty. He often joked that he hadn’t been born with just one face—but two.

      Deuce. He could be two people in an instant, and had been, on missions in Rio, South Africa and the Middle East. He could drop an accent, change his walk, even change all of his mannerisms in an instant.

      Two men—in one lethal body.

      “Mercer briefed me on the case,” he said as he came inside. He closed the door behind him. “I’m supposed to provide backup for your team.” His smile faded. “Seems a reporter is getting a little too close on this one.”

      “Yes...” Dylan sighed out his answer. “But Cooper is working on her.”

      Now Deuce did laugh. “Well, Cooper has always had a way with the ladies.”

      Rachel’s eyes narrowed.

      “Love ’em and leave ’em,” Deuce said. “If anyone can get the reporter under control, I’m sure it will be him.”

      Rachel’s hands clenched into fists. “I think you’re underestimating this woman. A little seduction isn’t going to put her off track.”

      “Well, if that doesn’t work—” Deuce’s shoulders straightened “—option number two is a whole lot less pleasant for her. According to Mercer, the woman isn’t to interfere in EOD business. Stopping her is a priority, even if we have to use containment.”

      Containment? On a civilian?

      Mercer must really be worried. They hadn’t crossed that line, not since—

      Rachel cut off the thought. She didn’t want to go into the darkness of her past. Not then.

      But Dylan was staring straight at her, and she knew that she’d given herself away.

      Sometimes she worried that Dylan was coming to know her too well.

      And that scared her to death.

      * * *

      “SOMEONE’S BEEN WATCHING YOU?” Cooper repeated carefully. He made sure his expression reflected surprise. “Are you sure about that?”

      “Yes, I am,” she told him. “You think I don’t know when I’m being tailed? I could feel someone following me for the past day, shadowing me. But every time I turned around...” Her breath blew out. “No one was there.”

      He made himself say, “Maybe because no one was there.”

      She shot to her feet. “Look, I’m trying to hire you, okay? You don’t have to believe me in order to take the case.”

      “I thought you wanted us to be partners—”

      Her dark eyes flashed at him. “I’m going to pay my partner for protection.”

      She was really afraid. He rose to his feet, slowly uncurling his body until he towered over her. “Are you sure nothing else has happened?”

      Her lips pressed together then she said, “I think he was in my apartment.”

      Hell.

      “My computer... At first I thought it was just some kind of glitch, but I had a tech I know take a look at it. He said my files were deliberately corrupted.”

      “Maybe you got a virus—”

      “I’ve got top-of-the-line virus protection software. Whatever was done to my system, it was done by a professional.”

      Sydney definitely counted as a professional.

      “All of the data that I’d had on that computer, all of the files on Archer and Lockwood—they were destroyed.” She lifted her chin and her gaze glinted. “It’s a good thing I had backups, because if I hadn’t, I’d be in serious trouble with my boss.”

      His fingers locked around her shoulders. “You have backup files?”

      For a second, she almost looked insulted. No, she did look insulted. “I’m not an amateur. This is what I do. I work these cases. I help solve the crimes that cops have to let go cold.”

      Why?

      “Someone was in my place,” she said again, dogged. “I know he was there.”

      “How? Did your alarm go off—”

      “No, but my computer...it was moved. Just a few inches, but I could tell.”

      It figured she’d be that observant.

      Gabrielle pulled away from him. “Look, if you won’t help me, fine. I’ll find someone else who will.” Then she marched toward the door.

      He stared up at the ceiling. This was so tangled. This was so—

      The door opened.

      In a flash, he rushed across the room and slammed the door shut. “I’ll be your guard.”

      “Partner.”

      He turned her in his arms. “If that’s the way you want to play it.”

      Gabrielle nodded. His body was flush against hers. Those kissable lips of hers were just inches away.

      Focus.

      The problem was that he was focusing, way too much on her.

      “What will I owe you?”

      His back teeth clenched. “My standard rate is five hundred a day.” He totally pulled that number right out of the air.

      Her eyes widened.

      Too high.

      “But I’ll work out a deal with you,” he rushed to say, because maybe this could work. If he stayed close to her—and he was planning to stay as close as he could possibly get—then he wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking into her place again and destroying any more files. He’d be able to retrieve every bit of intel at the same time she did.

      Even better, he’d be able to control the intel that she received.

      “Deal?” Gabrielle whispered and she licked her lips.

      His whole body stiffened. “Yeah, maybe I’ll get my name mentioned in the byline of your story.” Right. That would be the last thing he wanted.

      He put his hands on either side of her head, flattening his palms against the door. He wanted her mouth beneath his. That one kiss hadn’t been nearly enough to satisfy him.

      It had just made him hungry for more.

      “Of course, there is one other thing you can give me,” Cooper said, aware that his voice had roughened even more than normal.

      Her breath rushed out. Her hands rose to his chest even as bright flags of color stained her cheeks. “I am not—” she began angrily.

      “Pie,” he cut in. “I do believe there was a promise of cherry pie on the table.” And if her cherry pie was half as good as her chocolate chip cookies had been, then he’d sure be one very lucky man.

      She stopped pushing him. Her hands rested over his chest and seemed to burn right through the fabric of his T-shirt. “Oh. Right. Of course.”

      He

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