Page 50 of Hidden Attraction

She nodded.

He took out his phone, and on the secured line, typed out a summary of what they’d learned then hit send.

Neither of them spoke for a long minute.

“You think he’ll be able to verify any of it?” Her murmured question broke the moment.

Julian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifted her hand and turned it over in his. “If there’s proof to be found, Dante’ll find it.”

She nodded, absorbing the warmth of his touch and the subtle pressure of his thumb against her palm. Julian didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. That alone gave her something solid to hold on to.

Alyssa leaned into him, resting her temple against his shoulder. It didn’t matter that they were in a safehouse with dusty, worn-down floors and a mattress that was far thinner than what she was accustomed to. Right here, next to Julian, she felt safe.

Maybe safer than she had in years.

When no word immediately came back from Dante, Julian gave her a little nudge. “Why don’t you take a shower first?”

She did feel dusty. In the desert, every surface was coated in it. She even felt grit in her teeth when the wind blew.

With a nod, she pushed to her feet and went to shower. All the while, her mind was a riot of information. She never had trouble keeping the order of events straight, but there were many moving parts to keep track of. The commander and his assistant, who had obviously been sent to the restaurant to watch them. The Red Cross worker who lost her life because the terrorists coerced Mahmoud by kidnapping his daughter.

Then there was Julian. With every passing moment, she became more tangled up with the man. Her lover.

Funny thing was, despite the danger surrounding this op…she didn’t want it to end. Because that would mean walking away from him.

When she emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose T-shirt and light cotton pants, the fragrant scent of tea filled the air. Just then, Julian stepped into the bedroom, carrying a small wooden tray with two steaming cups.

His gaze traveled over her damp hair and body. From the gleam in his eyes, one would think she was wearing lingerie and not loose clothes.

He set the tray on the short table next to the bed. “It’s not much but—”

“There aren’t many supplies in the house,” she filled in.

His lips quirked, and those sexy dimples popped in his cheeks. “It’s some kind of tea. Smells a bit like gunpowder.”

“Probably a roasted oolong.” She drifted across the room and picked up a cup, letting the aromatic steam waft to her nose. “Mm. It is.” She took a sip and instantly felt calmer despite the fact they were waiting for Dante’s response about their findings.

Julian took a cup of tea and sank to the bed, watching her closely. The man was gorgeous—hard to look away from.

He seemed to be having the same trouble, his stare never moving from her as they drank. Though their silence was companionable, a charge ran beneath the surface, an undercurrent she was beginning to connect to this thing building between them.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, loud and jolting. Her spine straightened instantly, heart knocking against her ribs. Julian was already on his feet, phone in hand.

Dante had replied.

He opened the message, scanning quickly.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

She gripped her fingers in her lap and watched his expression darken. “What is it?”

“Dante found the email thread. The interpreter wasn’t lying. He really did reach out to the woman’s son. And her son reached out to the embassy, saying that he had been warned of a bomb headed to the Red Cross.”

She blinked, his words running together.

Julian was quiet, processing just as fast. He kept reading aloud. “The embassy contacted the base. The officer in charge responded and said they were running a covert op to protect the negotiator”—he pinned his gaze on her—“meaning you, and free the hostages.”

Julian’s jaw flexed.

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