Page 60 of Between Love and Honor

He jerked upright. That was it. Ronoff was the key to everything. All he had to do was use the Russian to flush out the traitor. And he had just the way to do it while retrieving his AI in the process. His adrenaline was pumping again as he powered up the monitors in the room. The Mariner was going surfing one last time on the dark web.

With a great deal of finesse and a little luck, he could trick all the players into revealing themselves. After inhaling the last piece of cake, he let his fingers dance over the keyboard.

CHAPTER 13

QUINN WOKE TO the feel of warm sunshine on her face and a hard body wrapped around her. They were still in the torch room, their legs intertwined and Ben’s arm securing her to the narrow futon. He was beautiful in his sleep, with long lashes fanned out against his cheeks and his forehead for once relaxed while his overactive brain recharged. Even the stab wound on his shoulder looked less angry.

She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Even after finding out who and what she was, he still wanted her. Better yet, he seemed to trust her. After everything she’d put him through, no less. He said it didn’t matter to him and she desperately wanted to believe him.

Could she be the original Quinn Darby? According to Ben, she could. The reality of it all was heady.

Not only that, but she had opened up to him about things she’d never been able to divulge to anyone else in her life. And, damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone else to share the burden of not only her mission, but her life.

He had her back. She knew that.

He had her heart, too. She was pretty sure he always had.

Of course, she’d feel a whole lot better if she had that list in her possession. She didn’t doubt it was safe where it was, but she’d been out of the game for over thirty-six hours. The idea she was losing headway on beating Alexi to it gnawed at her. As blissful as her current situation felt, she couldn’t abandon her mission. They needed to get back to Washington. Which meant waking the man sleeping beside her. Biting back a self-satisfied smile brought on by the realization she was now a “they,” she playfully reached out a finger to trace along his jaw. But before she made contact, he was growling seductively and rolling her beneath him.

“Hey.” She laughed. “Not fair. I thought you were asleep.”

“Thought you’d have your way with me, huh?” he murmured against the curve of her shoulder.

She sighed deeply as the evidence of just how awake he was pressed against her belly.

He shifted above her. “I think it’s about time I get to be in the driver seat. You just lay back and enjoy the ride.”

“You’ve learned a few things over the years.” She groaned when his teeth nipped at her collarbone.

“So have you.”

A nervous laugh escaped her. “Yeah, like how to kill a man with my bare hands.”

His body stiffened and his expression grew clouded making her immediately regret her words.

“You don’t need your bare hands. You damn near killed me once when you disappeared.”

A painful lump formed in her throat. Why had she gone there? He accepted who and what she was. Why did she feel the need to constantly remind him?

His face softened as he stared down at her. “I’ve dreamed of waking up with you this way for thirteen years,” he whispered. “And the reality is so much better than the dream.”

His admission made her heart flutter. Words were beyond her capability. So she sought out his lips instead, kissing him tenderly with the hope of conveying all the things she couldn’t manage to say. He responded with a deep searching kiss in return, his body bearing down on hers. She swiped her tongue against his.

And tasted cake.

Yanking her mouth away, she tilted her head toward the little TV table. “You ate the cake? All of it?”

“Uh. . .” His pupils widened with that deer-caught-in-headlights look. “Yesss?”

“How could you? I was saving that for my breakfast. Don’t you know you never eat a woman’s cake?”

His lips turned up in a wicked smile. “I don’t think I’ve heard it put quite that way before.”

Quinn swatted his uninjured shoulder. “I’m serious here. There are food items that are sacred to women and you should never, ever, eat the last of them.”

“And those would be?” He was obviously struggling to keep a straight face, which did nothing to temper her rising ire.

“Fudge brownie ice cream, cookies, chocolate of any kind, and cake!”

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