Page 74 of The Bachelor Spy
And then the vulnerability returned, and he thought for a moment she might pull away. But she didn’t. Only stared up at him, searching. “I’m not good at this, you know.”
“What? Kissing?” He shook his head with mock solemnity. “You are quite mistaken. You are remarkable. I assure you I shall never recover.”
The comment softened her frown slightly. “At feelings. At letting people in. I’m broken, Stephen. Even more so now.”
“I know.” His hands cupped her face gently. “I don’t care.”
“I killed my brother.”
“I know that too.”
“I shot you.”
“Arguably your most sensible decision that day.” He felt her huff of surprised laughter against his palm. “Everything after that went rather pear-shaped.”
Evie was quiet for an instant. Then, “After we stop Wilson … or whoever—after this is finished, I want to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere far from wars and spies and danger.”
All spies?He hoped not.
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere with a garden, maybe. And books. And …” She hesitated, her fingers curling against the back of his neck into his hair. “And you. I want you there.”
His chest expanded with emotions beyond words. “Again, I will be happy to comply with your wishes, pet.”
“Even though I’m broken?”
“Becauseyou’re broken. BecauseI’mbroken too. Because maybe two broken people can build something whole together.” His thumb trailed to her chin. “And understand each other in ways no one else could. Accept each other in those ways too.”
She made a sound that was half sob, half laugh, and burrowed closer to him, allowing him to be her strength. Her refuge.
He accepted—nay, reveled in—this new assignment.
Blake leaned back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, pulling her with him. His ribs ached where she’d hit him, but he didn’t care. The heart behind those ribs pulsed with a deep and resonating awareness of belonging.
With her.
And he was determined to survive Pennington, Wilson, and even Grace’s well-meaning interference to make that happen.
“Now, my dear …”
She pushed back slightly, looking up at him with mock severity. “Are you going to test every endearment you know?”
“Until I find the one I like best.” He stole another taste from her lips. “Now, moppet—”
“Absolutely not.”
He grinned against her mouth. “Poppet?”
“No.”
“Darling?”
“Better.” Her fingers traced his jaw. “Though I reserve the right to veto any that sound ridiculous.”
“Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now, tell me everything you know about Wilson and this assignment so we can plan our next moves. Properly this time. Together … dear heart.”
Chapter 11
