Page 48 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

She was silent for long moments.

"It's who I am," she finally whispered.

Ian ran his hands over her hair before pulling her head back and staring into her eyes.

"We both know better than that." He wouldn't let her believe otherwise. He couldn't. Not here. Not now. He was not going to face the Chameleon.

Ian watched as she licked her lips nervously, the way her gaze darkened with feminine uncertainty. At that moment he realized, he knew. Yeah, she had a mission. The Chameleon had been sent to him. But it was the woman he was dealing with. It was his woman.

He couldn't lie to himself any longer. Kira was here for more than a fun time in the sack, or to cover his back. She was a contract agent, the Chameleon, and he could see the battle waging in those beautiful eyes. She was there for much more than the man the woman was claiming. The agent was also there. And it was the agent's agenda he needed to know.

* * *

Fourteen

SLENDER TENDRILS OF LIGHT STREAKED across the sky as the sun began to rise over the horizon. The faint light eased the darkness that filled the bedroom and allowed Kira to ease up in the bed and stare into Ian's sleeping face.

She had known the moment he slipped into sleep, just as she knew that the slightest movement by her now would awaken him. And how she longed to move, to touch his face, to ease the lines of strain from his brow.

He had sold his soul to his father for his friends' lives. For Nathan, for Kell's lover, for the men he fought with, for a single chance to break the hold Diego Fuentes seemed to have with anyone he connected himself to, and she knew it. There was no other reason that he would risk his soul this way.

Diego was a master manipulator. She had read the secret file the director of the DHS held on him. The games the bastard had played with the DEA, the ATF, and a dozen other agencies would have been laughable were it not for the fact that he invariably won and the agreement he had with DHS protected him if he didn't. Dirty bastard. Diego knew their weakness just as well as he had known Ian's and he used it. Like a chess player laying out his pawns and moving them with insidious control throughout his little world.

And Ian was his favorite. His knight. His source of pride. His only son. And he was using him with an efficiency that bespoke his joy in this particular game. He was thwarting Sorrell, playing the U.S

. law enforcement and drug agencies, and holding his son in front of them all like a dog's favorite bone.

Kira closed her eyes at the thought. He was a stronger man than any she had known. Other men would have broken under the pressure by now, or given in. The fear that Ian would turn rogue kept the Homeland Security director up at night, she knew.

It was a heady drug, the power Ian wielded now. It wouldn't be easy for any man to walk away from. And if he didn't walk away from it, it would destroy a part of her.

She fought the hitch in her breath, the emotions that boiled inside her, seared her soul. She couldn't escape the emotions. They wouldn't let her go. They wouldn't ease. Everything inside her drew her to Ian, and had been doing so for years. But now, there was a part of herself that she didn't recognize anymore. A part of herself she hadn't realized existed until that night in Atlanta. A woman who loved.

"Stop staring at me like that," Ian ordered her, his voice its normal roughness. Sleep hadn't made it huskier or deeper.

"How long have you been awake?" She smiled as his eyes opened, thick dark blond lashes shielding the inner depths as he stared back at her.

"Long enough to figure a few things out." His hand moved beneath the sheet, sliding over her outer thigh to her hip as she felt her heart jump at the suspicion in his voice.

"What did you figure out?"

"That you're not here just for me." His lips twisted mockingly. "What are you here for?"

Kira drew back slowly. Sliding the sheet from her naked body, she started to leave the bed, only to find herself held in place by strong fingers that wrapped around her upper arm.

The problem was, no matter her orders, she was here for him. Nothing else.

She turned back to look at him, wondering if she had really portrayed such a cold, bleak image that he couldn't imagine her caring enough about him to follow him. To help him.

"Maybe I'm here for myself," she retorted, tugging at her arm.

That was the truth. She was here to assure herself he lived, that his soul survived, that he didn't do something he would regret for the rest of his life. Fuck DHS and their objectives and agendas. She wasn't there to keep Diego Fuentes alive, she was there to make certain the wicked amusement that had once gleamed in his eyes returned. She was there to share that amusement. And that was the part of herself she was so unfamiliar with. The part that needed to see more than just the cold, hard drug cartel lord. She needed to see the man again. And she needed to love him, just as she loved him now. All of him.

"I hate a liar." He sighed, his eyes narrowing on her as he tugged at her arm, dragging her back to the middle of the bed with him. "I've been giving this a lot of thought, Kira. You couldn't have had the information you did to be in that warehouse last week without help. Where did you get it?"

She rolled her eyes before leaning toward him, allowing her hair to cascade over the side of her face and enclose them in a partial curtain of darkness. No lies. No games. Just the two of them, the truth, and her silent promise to protect him.

"Martin Missern's soldiers like to party," she whispered suggestively. "Ricardo Desoto likes to talk when he gets drunk. He talked."

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