before we left the hospital. Call me if there’s anything I need to know. We’re headed home.”
Asa laughs again. Despite our friendship, he pisses me off like everyone else these days. “Good luck, brother.”
I disconnect before he can say anything else and cross my arms. “I know this goes against every grain in your beautiful body but I need you to cooperate. Being at my house is the safest place for you right now. I have my ear to the ground and don’t think anyone who matters knows you’re here. It needs to stay that way.”
She shifts where she’s sitting and pain cuts through her features. “I’m not safe anywhere and haven’t been for a long time. We both know this, but what you can’t seem to get through your thick skull is, I’m accustomed to it and have proven I can operate within it.”
My eyes narrow. “That wasn’t the case last week.”
“That was different and you know it. I’m an operative. I can make my way around a gunfight if I have to, but it’s not my specialty.”
I nod. “Exactly why you shouldn’t have inserted yourself into one.”
“How many people would be dead right now had I not?”
I lean in and put my hands to the bed, caging her in. She’s makeup free. Her long, platinum hair is pulled back with a tie. Even though she’s still a little pale and needs to gain some weight—some fresh air and vitamin D wouldn’t hurt, either—she’s as beautiful as the day I met her.
Our lips are inches apart when I lower my voice. “I’m not worried about people, sweetness. I’m only worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Not quite,” I rebuke. “But you’ll get there and you’ll do it under my thumb. It’ll be interesting but there’s no other choice.”
Her eyes fall and her exhale fans my skin.
“See? Even you know. The sooner we quit arguing, the sooner we can move forward.”
She opens her eyes. These have to be the most honest and productive words we’ve exchanged so far. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it. As soon as I’m well enough to travel, I’ll be gone.”
“You wouldn’t have to be gone if you told me why you’re here. You underestimate my desk job, Bella. I have contacts who have friends who have cousins who have step-siblings in dark places. The CIA logo might be on my business card, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wade around shit here in the U.S. when I have to. I just don’t do it on the record.”
She hikes a brow. “Good on me. I’d be disappointed in myself for hooking up with a rule-follower.”
I reach up and swipe a piece of hair out of her face. She doesn’t flinch at my touch, but her eyes flare. “I’ll make you a deal—you give me one month. If your name isn’t cleared in the next thirty days, I’ll personally stuff you in a crate and ship you back to Pakistan.”
Her comment bounces back. “And if you do the impossible?”
“When I do the impossible,” I correct, “you do what I want.”
“I refuse to stop working, Cole.”
I shake my head. “I’m done asking you to quit. It’s in your blood. I’ve learned that and will respect it. I swear I will. There are many ways for you to work that don’t include you living in Pakistan.”
“Name your wager.”
I pause, allowing the stagnant hospital air to hang between us and get a good look at her. Her blue eyes I’ll never get enough of. Her fair skin that I can’t wait to taste again. And her sheer, utter strength I feel, even now, though her body is broken and weak.
I never want to forget this moment.
It’s why, when I say the words, I know I’ll go to the ends of the earth to make them happen, despite every molecule in the universe working against us.
“You’ll marry me.”
Her quick intake of air is enough for me to know how she feels about my wager. I want to lean in and kiss her. Bury my hand in her messy long hair and my cock in her pussy—absolutely the sweetest I’ve ever had. It makes my insides do things it’s never done for anyone else.
And I look forward to having it again. Soon.
She loses a hint of her attitude. “I’ve answered that question too many times, Cole Carson.”
I shrug. “Which is why I didn’t ask this time. Today, I’m demanding it. I clear your name—you marry me. We’ll figure out the rest after the