Chapter 4

She trusted him?And not just to dive her home or maybe have her six in an op, but to forgo protection? Which, honestly, meant so much more. A level of intimacy she'd never allowed herself to indulge in. Not when she'd barely lasted with any one man long enough to consider it a genuine relationship.

Casual lovers, sure.

A boyfriend?

Growing up, she'd been too busy taking care of Gretta to have time. Once she'd joined the army, then on to MI6, she'd been too focused on climbing the ladder to want more than a weekend fling. A month, if the guy was above average. So, telling Walker they could rely on the implant in her arm to protect them from any consequences was dangerous territory.

What if it didn't work? She'd never gone without johnnies before, so she didn't have real-world proof that the damn implant did its job on its own, despite what the doctors insisted. Or what if all the medications and surgeries she'd had from the shooting made it less effective? Would Walker want to cap her in the arse if the unthinkable happened?

Blair turned toward him, wondering how to ask, when he looked at her and smiled. And not just any smile. This was biblical. Earth-shattering. As if she was the answer to every mystery he'd ever wondered about. That he was all-in, regardless of the consequences.

That she wasn't the only one thinking beyond tonight.

It took him reaching out — drawing his finger along her jaw — for her to realize she'd been staring at him for god knew how long. Enough time they were practically at his place. So, leaning into that caress seemed logical when he was probably questioning her sanity. A simple act that might have him focusing on what came next rather than how she'd blanked out because he was just too damn sexy.

Walker parked his truck in the driveway, once again, looking over at her. Probably gauging if she'd lost her nerve between the lake and his house. Which was crazy. If anything, she was more desperate than before. One quick shag in the front seat of his Chevy had showcased exactly what he had to offer, and she wanted to spend the foreseeable future fulfilling every fantasy she'd had since he'd walked into her life.

He snorted, giving her hand a squeeze. "I was going to ask if you were still sure, but the way you're looking at me… Talk about dangerous."

"I'm a spy. I'm supposed to be dangerous."

"I'm counting on it." He paused, furrowing his brow before sighing. "Are you sure about the condoms? The johnnies? I could drive into town — raid Corbin's stash if nothing's open."

"I guess that depends…"

"On?"

"On whether you'd be the one crying foul if something happened."

Walker's eyes widened before he was sliding across the seat — claiming her mouth like he had earlier. He gave her bottom lip a slight nip when he finally eased back, looking at her as if she was bonkers. "Sweetheart. I don't think you really want to know the answer to that question because it might be what sends you screaming back to Gretta's. And I really want to see how you look wrapped up in my sheets."

The man was going to kill her without using more than just his words.

"In that case, you're definitely worth breaking the rules for." She scooted closer, wishing they were already on their way inside. "So, why are we still sitting here?"

That was all the encouragement he needed to scoop her into his arms. It took some shimming to get them both out his side of the truck, but he made it look easy, even though she suspected it tweaked his shoulder. Not that she'd complain when he was already eating up the distance between the driveway and his front door.

Lights flashed behind them, and he turned as a truck rolled along the road, kicking up dust as it drove past his place. Walker frowned, mumbling something about how it didn't look like one of the ranch trucks from the neighboring property, before shaking his head then turning back toward the house.

Blair glanced down the road, but the vehicle was already out of sight, just the lingering cloud of dust still hanging in the air. She looked up at him, wondering if she should ask him what he'd meant — if the truck was important or just his paranoia kicking in — when he smiled and picked up his pace.

A twist of the handle, a kick of his boot, and the door swung open, bouncing off the wall as he carried them through. He stopped long enough to slam it shut — twist the lock — before he was striding down the hallway. Walking into a room at the end.

Walker continued through to the bathroom off to the right, flicking on the light before finally placing her on her feet. "Thought we could clean up before I ravage you, again."

He didn't wait for her to respond, just turned and twisted on the taps. Water splashed in the background as steam slowly started to build in the shower.

Blair tsked when he reached for her dress, sliding her hands down his shirt before gripping the hem. After months of wondering what hid beneath the cotton and the wool, she wasn't going to wait a second longer.

Walker leaned forward, lowering his head as she pulled that black tee over his shoulders before tossing it on the floor. He straightened, a patchwork of shadows playing along his torso as his muscles flexed from the slightest movement. And damn… he was even sexier than she'd imagined. Long, thick bands across his chest and abdomen. A dusting of hair.

She arched a brow, trailing her fingers along his left rib cage. "A helicopter tattoo? That's unexpected."

He smiled. "Got it on a dare after being recruited to Flight Concepts."

"It suits you." She inched forward, grabbing the top of his jeans. "Is that your only one?"

"Guess you'll have to find out. But, make it quick. It's my turn, next."

"What did you say before? Perfection can't be rushed?"

"Brat. Fine, but remember… Payback's a bitch."

"I'm counting on it."

She worked his jeans over his hips, crushing the moan clawing at her throat because… He was large. Which she already knew, but seeing him up close…

Blair removed his socks and boots, vowing to give him one hell of a blowjob before the night was over, then smoothed her hands along his thighs, smiling at the second tattoo gracing his hip. She leaned forward, inhaling when she realized it was the Flight Concepts emblem with the date of the accident inscribed across the center. What she assumed was his way of either honoring the men who'd been lost, or ensuring he never forgot.

Both, maybe. Those demons Gretta said still haunted him.

She kissed the ink, then made her way up his body, nipping at his chin. "And here I thought you wouldn't have any mysteries left."

"The tattoos aren't a mystery."

"But telling, just the same." She traced her fingers along some of the scars marring his right side, frowning when he tensed. "If you'd rather I don't touch them…"

"They're just scars. You have some, too, from your last mission."

"And more from before then. Does that bother you? That I have scars?"

"Of course not. Do they bother you?"

"Honestly, I see them more as proof I survived. Won, I guess, seeing as the alternative was dying." She reached up and brushed her finger across his mouth. "Now, didn't you say something about a shower? So you could ravage me, again? Though, I think I was the one who ravaged you."

"You can wrestle me for the title, later. After I get you naked."

He snagged her dress, slowly dragging it over her head before letting it fall to the floor. A pool of blue amidst gray tiles. A flick of his fingers and a brush of his hand, and her bra was gone. Probably in pieces like her knickers. Not that she'd been paying attention, because the way he was staring at her… Hungry was putting it mildly.

Walker clenched his jaw, taking a moment to give her a thorough once-over. Those gorgeous brown eyes of his burning darker. "God, you're stunning."

She smiled, inhaling when he drew his finger along her breast. "Compared to you…"

He snorted, as if he had no idea how incredible he was, then leaned in. "I can't wait to lick every inch of you." Walker waved toward the shower door. "Ladies, first."

Blair tiptoed up — gave him a soft kiss — then eased out of his arms and stepped into the shower. She'd barely moved over enough to let him in before he was taking her in his arms — crowding her against the wall. And it didn't take an operative to know exactly what was on his mind.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her, balancing her arse on an insanely small ledge, before he was thrusting inside — taking her from zero to gone in a heartbeat.

She let her head tilt against the wall, inhaling when he bit at her neck — what was likely another damn hickey. Some primitive mark that signaled she belonged to him. The fact her heart skipped at the thought confirmed she'd lost her mind. That any rational thought had been replaced with the hue of their skin — how perfectly they fit together.

It only took a few minutes of him thrusting before she was riding that high, fighting not to finish. Walker ate at her mouth, pounding into her as water sprayed across his back, thick steam billowing around them. By the time he was shouting out his release, she was already on the other side, drifting into that lulling afterglow — thankful they weren't in a heap on the shower floor.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed wrapped in each other's arms, Walker's strength the only thing keeping them upright before he sighed in her ear, kissing her jaw before slowly easing back. Blair managed to open her eyes — stare into his — as he shook his head, gently lowering her feet.

He brushed his finger along her cheek, smiling like she'd lifted some burden from his conscience. "You… that…"

He rested his forehead on hers, holding her against him as if he thought she'd fall. And, hell, she might. Though, where he was concerned, she knew she'd already fallen. How tonight was simply confirmation that all her previous thoughts — that he'd won her over the past few months — were right. And antiquated or not, she'd been in love with him before that kiss in his truck.

She smiled, sliding her fingers into his hair. "I thought I was the one who couldn't formulate full sentences."

He chuckled. "Guess you turn me primeval. You hungry? Because I'm starving."

"Famished."

"Come on."

Walker took the time to wash and dry them both off, then offered her his shirt before leading her back to his kitchen. She took a seat at the island, wondering if there would be any awkwardness, but Walker seemed completely at ease, chatting away as he made a plate of nachos. As if they'd been lovers for years instead of hours.

By the time they'd finished eating and cleaned up, she'd realized she'd been right. This was what home felt like. Which seemed odd when she'd never truly had one. Never felt safe enough she could fully let her guard down. Even at her flat in London, she was always on edge. Wondering if a rogue agent or an assassin might show up at her door. Whether it was being so far removed from her old life or having Walker there, she wasn't sure. She only knew that she never wanted it to end.

Walker tugged her against him, kissing a path along her neck. "Tired?"

She laughed. "Knackered."

He nodded. "I hope that means you'll stay."

She glanced back at him. "Were you planning on kicking me out?"

"Sweetheart, if I had any say in it, you'd text your sister and get her to drop off a bag so we can spend the next few days wrestling in my bed."

God, he was serious. From the flash of fire in his eyes to the way his grip tightened, as if he really didn't want to let her go, the man wasn't holding anything back.

She gave him a light elbow. "Well, you do owe me a set of knickers. But don't you have to work?"

"I've got tomorrow off. And Booker owes me covering for him when he was, how do you put it? Shagging Cassie on their honeymoon. I have no qualms about texting the guy and cashing in some of that time, so…"

He'd get Booker to cover for him? So he could spend time with her? Because she was pretty sure Walker hadn't taken any extra days off the entire time she'd been there, work seemingly top priority in his life. Which she understood, especially after he'd been sidelined for so long recovering from the accident.

Blair turned in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll text Gretta first thing in the morning. Now, didn't you mention wrestling in your bed? Because I have a few moves that might surprise you."

"I thought you were knackered?"

"I'm never that knackered. At least, not with you."

And just like that, the hunger was back in his eyes as he lifted her in his arms, then struck off for his bedroom, all the while eating at her mouth. Kissing her as if he'd already forgotten what she tasted like. Then, he was yanking his tee over her head, stripping off his jeans, before they were on his bed — completely entwined.

Blair wasn't sure if it was minutes, hours — hell, days later — by the time they finally came up for air. She kissed Walker's chest as he tugged her against him, all that warm skin lulling her to sleep. He mumbled something about making her breakfast, but she was already drifting. Completely gone until something sounded in the background.

She startled awake, scanning Walker's bedroom when she realized her phone was buzzing. That Walker had placed it and her purse on the floor beside her. Probably so she could text Gretta in the morning like she'd promised without having to leave his bed.

Blair shuffled over and snagged the cell, inhaling at the familiar number. The one she'd been dreading. The fact the call had come two weeks before the end of her leave was disconcerting.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She could ignore it. No question. Shut the thing down and burrow against Walker. But if it was who she thought it was, the bastard would just keep calling. Or worse, send someone to knock on Walker's door.

She slipped out of bed, grabbed Walker's shirt, then made her way to his kitchen so she wouldn't wake him. "Hughes."

"Blair. Nice of you to finally pick up."

Damn, she hated being right. "Montgomery. You do know it's three o'clock in the morning, yeah?"

She could practically hear the arsehole shrugging. As if waking her was the least of his concerns.

"I needed a time when I knew you'd be available. Not staying at Gretta's tonight, I see."

Five words. That's all it took for Blair to realize things were about to go pear shaped. That the truck Walker had been concerned about earlier had been one of Montgomery's contacts following her. That she'd been so preoccupied with Walker and whether or not he'd finally make a move, that she'd missed being tailed. Which was crazy considering what she'd told Walker earlier was right. That she'd only ever trusted Gretta. Assumed everyone else was out to kill her.

"What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?"

"I still have two weeks of medical leave left… sir. So, you really shouldn't be calling me. And after how we left things, I'm sure it's not surprising that I'm considering my options."

"I'd be shocked if you weren't, but situations change. I have a proposition for you, Hughes. One I think you're going to want to listen to. Unless you're no longer interested in clearing Gretta's name? Getting her off that blacklist, which, let's face it… Is more of an assassination list for any two-bit mercenary looking to get some easy cash from any corrupt government official. The kind of targets everyone would rather just disappear. And one some hick town in the States isn't going to save her from. Because I can do that. Give her a clean slate. If you're willing to hear what I have to say. Agree to one last mission before you decide where and what you want to do."

He paused, his breath still sounding over the phone. "Your choice, but I thought protecting your sister was your top priority. Or maybe that's changed, too."

She closed her eyes, hating the voices that whispered in her head. How she'd let Gretta down. That she'd never be free until Gretta was, too.

Blair gripped the cell, wishing she hadn't picked up. That she was still wrapped around Walker. Still had a future because she knew, without a doubt, that she'd already lost him. "I'm listening."