“Like hell,” I toss back. “He’s hailed as one of the most integral operatives in British Intelligence history and has been traveling the world signing books with my mum while you’re here, creating your own fiction and trying to lay it on a woman because you think I’ll go down quietly for something I. Did. Not. Do.” When I take a step in his direction, I see it in his eyes—he braces. Well, he fucking should, even though I have no idea what I’m going to do next. “Do not expect me to fall on the sword for upper brass. Donnellys don’t give up and they don’t bow down. I don’t kneel for anyone, certainly not you.”
He waves his hand and the man beside him starts for me. I turn fully to him and flex my fingers but don’t have a chance to move.
Glass shatters.
Noise fills the wide-open space.
The air becomes so heavy, it’s tangible.
I look to the side, but can’t see a thing. My eyes burn like a flaming brimstone and I blink away tears that form in an instant.
All but one of the men threatening me shuffle for the door. The big one comes after me even through the gas-filled air. When he gets close enough, I hope to hell my instincts have my back since I can’t see for shit when I swing my leg around.
I hear a humph when I make contact and then move for the perimeter. I’ll feel my way out.
That’s when arms circle me from behind.
Before I can do what I’m bloody best at, I hear breathing and feel a hard shell pressed to the side of my head.
“Sweetness, don’t fight me today. You won’t win.”
I freeze.
I know that voice, even through a gas mask. I’d recognize it until the day I take my last breath. It’s my nemesis—and the man who’s also my bedmate when we’re in the same general vicinity.
Then, even though my lungs beg for clean oxygen and my mascara is running down my face like a drippy faucet, he has the nerve to lift his hand and maul my left breast.
“You’re in a fuckload of trouble, baby.”
I cough and sputter and spit, but he doesn’t move. If he’s here to play the hero, he could get a bloody move on.
“Time to do what I’ve been trying to for years—get you out of this country once and for all.”
I squeeze his arm with all I’ve got because my stomach starts to roil from the tear gas.
“And this time, you’re not running from me.”
Damn him.
When I think I might pass out from lack of oxygen, he moves.
Cole Carson.
The man who will surely be the death of me.
When he’s not giving me orgasms, that is.
Chapter 1
Beeps
Fairfax, Virginia
Present Day
Cole
Beeps.
It’s all I hear.
They echo and roll around my brain. Slow … methodical. They’re sure to drive me insane.
But I’m clinging to them.
They’re the only thing reminding me she’s alive. Cutting through the room as sharp as the figurative knife I took to the gut when I got the call. Hollingsworth knows our history and told me. I got here as fast as I could and haven’t left her side.
Bella.
I had no idea she was even in the damn country.
“Documents are on the way and hospital records have been changed.” I listen to Hollingsworth peck away on a keyboard.
“You’re sure no one who matters heard her name?” I ask. I’ve worked with Asa Hollingsworth long enough and know he’s solid but I don’t know everyone who was in the waiting room when I arrived after finding out Isabella Donnelly took a bullet to the gut. Asa assures me no one there is a threat. I keep barking orders. “While she’s here, she’s Isabella Carson. I’m sure she covered her tracks on her way to the U.S., but we need to be sure. I have no idea when she’ll be well enough to run away from me. Because I have no doubt she’ll try.”
Asa is smart enough not to ask further about my laying claim to her.
I keep talking. “I want to know who she was here to meet. Do whatever it takes. The more I can find out before she wakes up, the better.”
“Already on it. But if you, of all people, don’t know why she’s in the States, I’m not sure who else will. Bella can work alone and has proven she doesn’t need anyone at her back to survive. Your best bet is the source herself. She’ll wake up and