Between Love and Honor (Men of the Secret Service #3) - Tracy Solheim Page 0,70
hurt you, Quinn Darby. Ever. You want to know why?”
She remained silent, her only response a peeved glare.
“Because I love you,” he confessed. “I always have and I always will.”
Quinn sucked in a heavy breath that sounded almost like a sob.
Not exactly the reaction he expected, but he pressed on anyway. “I hope that deep down you love me, too. But, right now, I’ll just settle for your trust,” he continued softly. “You told me you trusted me last night. Was that just a lie?”
The air in the room grew thick as he waited for her to say something. Anything. Slowly, she shook her head from side to side.
“No, it wasn’t a lie?” he prodded. “Or no, you don’t trust me?”
Her eyes shimmered with moisture when she finally raised her gaze to meet his. “No, it wasn’t a lie.”
“Good. I can work with that.”
“I hope so,” she whispered. “Because I’m new to this.”
“Clearly.”
“It’s just—”
“No,” he said. “There aren’t any qualifiers, Quinn. This is an all or nothing proposition.”
She nodded resolutely. “All. I want all of it.”
A slow smile threatened to spread over his lips, but he bit it back. Her admission had cost her, he could tell. She’d been a one-woman show for so long, trusting wasn’t going to come easy at first.
“Good, because I want all of it, too.”
“You have it all wrong, though,” she whispered.
“Come again?”
“I’m not freaked out about my name being on the list,” she explained. “I mean, I am, but I’m more freaked out about you meeting with Alexi face-to-face. He agreed too readily. It’s him I don’t trust.”
Understanding dawned. Her outburst from a moment ago was driven by fear. Fear for him, in particular. It was a heady feeling to have proof she actually cared for him.
“I don’t trust him either,” he reassured her. “That’s why I’ll have a handpicked team backing me up.”
“But the traitor. It could be someone you know.”
He shook his head. “I sincerely doubt that.”
She started to say more but then closed her mouth.
“I know you’re frightened for your parents, but I’ve used the ploy multiple times, always with success. It’s all going to work out. All you have to do is—”
“Trust you,” she interjected. “I know. And I do.”
She was suddenly in his arms kissing him with the fervor of a woman clinging to a lifeline. For his part, he let her have her way with his mouth, sighing with encouragement while he dragged his fingers up and down her back to soothe her. If this was her way of unleashing all of her pent-up emotions, he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.
He was going to complain about the loud knocking on the door, however.
Except it was his boss.
“Agent Segar,” the secretary called. “We need to strategize a response to Ronoff.”
Quinn shivered at the mention of the Russian’s name, but her eyes were focused and her cheeks flushed when she pulled away from him. Even more encouraging, there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“She’s right,” Quinn whispered. “I’m sorry for being such a twit.”
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “If being a twit always ends with you kissing me senseless, then I think I can put up with it every now and then.” He kissed the tip of her nose and reached for the doorknob.
“Ben.” She wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Whatever happens, I need you to know that I love you too.”
His heart stuttered to a stop before beginning to pound again. This time he didn’t bother hiding his smile.
She grinned shyly back. “I loved you thirteen years ago,” she admitted. “And I never stopped. I never will.”
Words failed him. He leaned in to brush a swift kiss across her mouth instead.
“Agent Segar!” The secretary’s tone was becoming a lot more urgent.
Swearing in aggravation, Ben linked his fingers through Quinn’s and pulled open the door. The secretary wore an annoyed expression while the president looked bemused.
“We need to talk about this before Ronoff reaches out again,” the secretary stated.
He began to follow her back to the Situation Room when Quinn tugged on his hand.
“I think I’ll leave this to you Yanks,” she said. “I’m too emotionally involved to be objective.” She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll go find Josslyn. Maybe there’s some cake left upstairs.”
Reluctantly, he let her fingers slide from his. There was no doubt she wasn’t objective. And he would definitely think more clearly without her there. But he still felt bereft when she walked away