anywhere,” she assured.
“I know.” He kissed her forehead and purchased the tickets, taking her hand as he directed them to an airline carrier. “Texted your ticket. We have ninety minutes until wheels up.”
The sweetness of his lips made her insides melt like marshmallows. “Thanks, Hagan.”
He smiled as though he could tell she was turning into goo. “Let’s check-in and drop the bags.”
Her phone beeped with the flight details text message, and she read their itinerary as they approached the desk. “We’re going to the US?”
Hagan smiled at the attendant. “Two headed for Washington, DC.” It wasn’t until they showed their identification, left their suitcases on a conveyor belt, and moved into the security queue that he added, “After what happened, where else would we go to debrief?”
Her stomach churned. Adrenaline still made her tremble. She hadn’t even thought about where they would go. Trauma wasn’t letting her think straight. “Titan has a perfectly suitable war room.”
And that suggestion was all the proof she needed to confirm that her mind was scrambled. Neither had suggested they should call Jared. Amanda didn’t know Hagan’s reason, but she had a pretty big justification to avoid Jared at all costs: he’d never let her be without security again.
That wasn’t a great situation for a woman with a security company. But, it was an even worse problem for America’s First Daughter who had exercised her right of refusal—Secret Service would never put themselves in the line of fire for her again—and had effectively managed to reach a hermit level of reclusiveness. Not even the press recognized or cared about her anymore.
“I want to have a conversation with Halle,” Hagan muttered.
Amanda bit her tongue until they’d presented their tickets and identification. “Why?”
“I just do.”
Hagan could have all the conversations with Halle that he wanted. None would make sense until he knew who Amanda was. God! Why hadn’t she told him sooner? This situation was like her name. It hadn’t mattered. But had she learned her lesson? No!
This omission would matter. She’d kept Hagan in the dark and put his life in danger. “I have to tell you something.”
Hagan still hadn’t let go of her hand. “What?”
Even if they hadn’t escaped an attack, she needed to tell him because it was the right thing to do, and—her heart exploded—because she needed to say I love you.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“I don’t know why I pictured a state-of-the-art office building made of glass and steel.” Hagan pulled their suitcases through the door that Amanda held open. “Cameras following our every move, taking our temperatures and respiration.”
She laughed for the first time in hours. “Your only points of reference are Hollywood blockbusters and Titan’s real estate portfolio.”
“True.” Except he was only aware of the Abu Dhabi buildings and the headquarters in Virginia. Hagan didn’t put it beyond Jared to own safehouses across the globe. What else would a real estate portfolio include?
They walked into a generic office built sometime in the seventies when architectural influencers had somehow convinced builders to erect windowless concrete monstrosities. If Hagan had to wager, he’d guess that the overhead florescent lights had been there since the original construction.
“We like to call her old Bertha.”
“Her, who?” The worn linoleum floor matched the baby-shit green wall color. “The building?”
Amanda stopped at the first office door they came to. “Yup.”
“Bertha the building.” He wanted to laugh but decided Bertha suited the place. Unflappable. Unmovable. That sounded like a Bertha, and Bertha would give zero fucks about the color of her walls. If someone didn’t like it, Bertha didn’t care. “Bertha’s kinda badass.”
Amanda placed her palm against a nondescript sensor, then turned the handle. “She’s pretty techy, too.”
They stepped into a small alcove with far better lighting. The entry door shut and caged them in the tight space. “Nice and cozy.”
Amanda entered a code on a number pad and leaned in for a biometrical face scan. The door released with a swoosh. They walked into a sleek reception area several degrees cooler than the outer access point. A receptionist’s desk sat empty and seemingly unused.
Hagan walked the room. “This is more like I had in mind.”
She tapped her finger to her chin. “Didn’t you once ask about a tour?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Think I did.” Something other than their problem in the elevator had been distracting Amanda. But with her last few quips, he hoped that she’d let it go. He needed her smile. “Are you my tour guide?”
She pointed to the empty desk. “This is the front of our office.”
He leaned