Page 61 of My Temptation

He said I’d made an impression on him.

What he didn’t realize was how much of an impression he was leaving on me.

19

ETHAN

We finally had an address for a house, but it was still as if we were searching for a ghost. This assignment was starting to take its toll on both of us. The not knowing and dead ends we kept hitting were frustrating me. Not to mention, I was spending every moment of every day with Mila. The only reprieve I got was when I slept, which wasn’t often, or when I was in the shower. I was learning to take long showers just to have a break. We were moving to a different hotel on Saturday, and Kyle assured us that the new hotel room had two double beds. That would hopefully give me a chance to sleep more comfortably. On the other hand, Mila seemed unfazed by how much time we’d spent together. If anything, she acted as if she was enjoying it. But then again, she wasn’t attracted to me, and I’d never been this attracted to someone who didn’t feel the same, which pissed me off.

Mila slid into the car and closed the passenger door. She’d gotten out of the car a minute ago, and as soon as she opened the back door, I knew she was searching for a snack. I wasn’t surprised when she held out a chocolate candy bar and smiled when I shook my head.

Raising an eyebrow, I met her stare. “You have a problem.”

She giggled. “I know. I think it’s because I didn’t eat sweets much growing up since my dad didn’t like chocolate, so I went a little wild once I left for college.”

“Eating chocolate in college was your idea of going wild?”

She shrugged. “I knew what I wanted and what I had to do to get there, so I wasn’t messing that up. But I could eat chocolate and all kinds of bad things without any real consequence. Except that I had to work out more, but I like working out, so that wasn’t punishment.”

I took a drink from the travel mug I’d filled with iced tea and watched the house that at one time belonged to Martin Sullivan and his family.

“You see anything?”

“Not yet,” I replied. “If this is a bust, I think it's time to accept the fact that even though the house is here, Kevin Samson may not be.”

“Well, he’s not in North Carolina anymore, so where the hell is he?”

“Layin’ low would be my guess.”

“I have a bad feeling we’re running out of time,” she said between bites of her chocolate bar. “Striker called me while you were in the shower.”

“What did he say?”

“That he talked to Kyle.” She sighed. “He said if we still have nothing by the end of next weekend, he’s coming here himself, which is going to piss off Brody and Jax. Truthfully, he is a fantastic tracker. He’d probably be able to take the minimal amount of information we have and find Samson.”

I’d worked with Striker but not closely. I never knew what information he had when he was given a case. “He’s that good?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed a bite of chocolate. “Apparently, he was the go-to tracker on his SEAL team, and he never failed.” Her eyebrows rose, and she focused on me. “Ten years. Never failed. That’s a crazy record.”

I nodded and sat back in my seat. That was a crazy record. It made sense why Brody and Jax put up with some of his impulsive shit over the years. They couldn’t afford to lose him; he was too valuable to Elite’s success. Staring into the darkness, we both quietly watched the house, waiting for any movement, and I felt more pressure than I already had. I didn’t want to fail anyone at Elite, but this case felt impossible, and the lack of movement once again at the house we’d been watching the majority of the week only solidified that.

Tapping my fingertips against the steering wheel, I shook my head. “Surveillance sucks.”

Mila laughed. “It can.”

“Is there ever a time it doesn’t?”

“To be honest, I didn’t do it for very long before I was placed undercover, but it sucked every time.”

“How long were you actually in the FBI? I mean, at least two years from what you’ve said.”

“I joined the academy the day I turned twenty-two. I was young, younger than most because of who my dad was. I still had to complete the training programs and wasn’t officially an agent until I turned twenty-three, but I was moved along quickly.”

“Because your dad wanted you on his team?” I asked, but that didn’t seem right, considering all she’d told me about her father’s feelings on women in the FBI.

“God, no.” She snorted. “He actually tried to block it, but at some point, it was no longer up to him. His bosses wanted me there.”

“Why?”

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