Page 9 of Fast Vengeance

He cracked a grin. “The second part.”

She studied him a moment, a faint smile playing on her lips. “It suits you. Did you always want to try out for Special Forces?”

Where was she going with this? “Ever since I thought about enlisting.” He’d wanted to be part of the tip of the spear, and he’d gotten his wish.

“What made you decide to get out?”

“Constantly being on long deployments. They needed us in so many places, we were lucky if we got to come home once every year.” He had to grin, because the irony didn’t escape him. “And here I am, winding up in Afghanistan for four months every year.”

She smiled then lowered her gaze and forked up a bite of vegetables. “I bet it was hard on your family too. Or your significant other.”

Brock analyzed her line of questioning. Was she fishing? “My mom was worried sick every time I deployed. As for significant others, there were only a handful of those and it never lasted.” Including his last serious relationship that had ended eighteen months ago. She got sick of him being gone all the time, and moved out while he was deployed.

“You seeing anyone now?”

The question made him glance at her in surprise. It had seemed casual enough, but the way she’d asked it, while avoiding his gaze, made him curious. “No. Just to jog your memory, I’ve been away for the past four months,” he teased.

She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Really? Who was I going to get involved with in Afghanistan, even if I’d had the time?” It happened, but as team leader, he took his responsibility to his team and his agency seriously, and tried to lead by example in every way.

She smiled. “Okay, forget I said that.”

He leaned back, propping an elbow on the countertop. “Why do you ask?”

Rather than answer, she cleared her throat and reached for her wine, sharpening his interest and attention even more. It was like she was working up the courage to say something, which went against everything he knew about her personality to this point. “No reason.”

Beautiful liar. He resumed eating the rest of his meal, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She was definitely nervous. Why?

He finished, forced himself to wait until she had only a bite or two left before asking, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Her fork stopped in the act of spearing the last bit of chicken. She cleared her throat again, still wouldn’t look at him. “I have a proposition for you.”

All kinds of intrigued now, he pushed his plate away and gave her his full attention. “That sounds interesting.” Way too interesting.

She took another sip of wine, almost for courage, then lowered her glass and finally turned her head to meet his gaze. “Once the sentencing happens, if nothing new surfaces about Nieto or Montoya that I could help them with, it probably won’t be long until they move me out of D.C. and send me to my new life.”

A weird tightening sensation pulled in his chest. Dread. He’d known the time would come when she could leave and start over again somewhere else under a new identity. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Felt certain that he would regret losing her, even though she wasn’t his. His feelings made no sense, yet they were there nonetheless. “Right.”

She looked away again, began fiddling with the stem of her wineglass. “So, the thing is, I’ve been working hard to get myself together. Prepare for starting over. For the most part, I feel ready. But there are other things. Areas where I don’t feel ready at all.”

He stayed quiet, watching her, letting her get to the point in her own time even though he was ready to burst from curiosity.

Drawing a deep breath, she met his eyes again. “I want to reclaim my sexuality again, and it has to be with someone I trust. I was hoping you would consider helping me with that.”

Brock barely kept his mouth from falling open in shock. Of all the things she could have said, even though she spoke her mind, this was so unexpected and outside the realm of anything he’d anticipated, he wasn’t even sure he’d heard her right. “You want me to sleep with you?” he blurted, needing to make sure he’d understood.

Her cheeks flushed, but to her credit she didn’t look away. “If I can go that far. But if it would put you in a bad position or compromise your career in any way, then please pretend I never brought it up,” she added quickly.

Brock stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. Was she fucking serious? He’d been harboring secret fantasies about her for months, feeling guilty as hell about it because he knew what she’d been through in those weeks she’d spent as a captive to Ruiz’s men. And here she was asking him to take her to bed, but only if he was okay with it?

“Why?” he asked bluntly, refusing to let his little brain take over. This was important. He needed to understand why she needed this, why him, and he needed to hear it in her words.

“Because I want to have a normal life at some point in the future, possibly even a relationship with someone, and sex is going to be a stumbling block for me. When I was held prisoner they took my dignity and my self-image away. I want to reclaim those parts of myself. My femininity and my body, and I need a partner I trust to help me do that. So I thought maybe…” She glanced at him, the first stirrings of uncertainty written in her eyes.

Her answer made all kinds of sense, and yet there were still so many questions he wanted to ask. Starting with the most important one. “You trust me, and I’m glad. But that’s not the same thing as wanting me.” He paused a beat. “Do you want me?”

Because if she wasn’t attracted to him physically, then even discussing this further was a bad idea.

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