Kara returned and motioned to a partitioned wall near the bed. “I’ll change so we can get out of here.”

Blake watched her disappear around the makeshift wall, her shadow reflecting from behind it, a teasing silhouette of her undressing. He ground his teeth against the tightening of his groin. Kara wasn’t what she seemed, but she awakened something inside him, something he’d thought died with Whitney, something more than passion. The raw, seeping wound inside him, dark with emotion, was still there, but there was more now. There was…hope.

Grimacing, he ran a rough hand through his hair and turned away from the screen. If he fell for this woman and she burned him, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to get back up again. He wasn’t going to fall for her. He’d protect her. That was it.

Blake drew a deep breath and turned right back around again, proving to himself this woman did not have him by the throat, just the balls and he could pry her hand off those. His gaze went to her silhouette, the shadows outlining her naked body as she reached for a pair of pants. Blake’s c**k went instantly rock hard and his control, the control he’d claimed to own so fully, threatened to snap. After a moment of fighting it, he decided to embrace what he was feeling and make sure she did, too. He stalked across the room and around the panel, the sweet, feminine scent of Kara slamming into him almost as fiercely as her creamy-white naked body.

She gasped as he drew her into an embrace, his mouth closing down on hers, commanding her to give herself to him, his tongue seducing hers into a response. Her body softened almost instantly, and it turned him on, and then pissed him off. She was good at turning him on. Too good.

He pressed her against the wall, twined his fingers into the dark silk of her hair, and forced her gaze to his. “It would be better for you to tell me who you are now, on your own.”

“I’m Kara,” she panted. “I’ve always been Kara.”

“End the game here and now,” he growled. “Don’t make me do it for you.”

“You think this is a game to me? This has never been anything further from a game to me.”

“What do you call secrets and lies? A game. A dangerous game. You have nothing personal here, not even a picture of your mother.”

“If I have her picture, that makes her important to me. There are people, like Ignacio, that might decide that means she’s worth hurting.”

“And yet you told Mendez and Richter.”

“I did what I had to and a public announcement isn’t required.”

He glared at her, probed her eyes. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

She sucked in a breath, a tormented look flashing in her eyes. “No. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

More of the game, but beneath it was real pain and it spoke to him. He knew it, understood it, and owned it with far more gusto than he wished to claim. And he wanted to own her. It was a barbaric thought, but he owned it for that, and for where it came from. If he owned her, he’d take her someplace far away from here, and keep her safe. He was damn near desperate to keep her safe and he knew why, he knew the past was messing with him, he knew he couldn’t escape it, or the guilt over Whitney’s death that ate him alive.

Bitterness ripped through him and acid burned in that open wound that was a cavern inside him. His mouth came down on Kara’s again, rough with anger, at his loss, at Kara for making him care enough to be here right now, ready to bury himself in her, not some nameless woman who didn’t give a shit about him. Who wouldn’t be around to worry over the next day.

His tongue delved deep into the warm, sweet recesses of Kara’s mouth, his hands sliding over her br**sts, thumbs teasing her ni**les. A haze of lust and desire overcame him, fed into her, and she responded, touching him. He lost himself in the rush of heat over his skin, the silk of her floral-scented hair on his face. He didn’t remember how his pants got down or how the condom ended up over his shaft. There was only the sizzle, the touches, the taste of her on his tongue, and the moment he lifted her leg and watched the lines and shadows of desire on her beautiful face as he pressed deep inside her.

Blake framed her face, staring down at her. “Fuck me here and now, and like this, a million times over. But don’t f**k me outside of this.”

“Blake—”

He kissed her, hard, punishing, because he knew he wasn’t looking for a promise she wouldn’t keep, but he had one to give her, one he would keep. He tore his mouth from hers, and stared down at her. “You’re in over your head and I’m going to keep you safe. The only person who is ever going to kill you is me, and I plan to do it with pleasure.” He drove into her and went to work, keeping his vow.

Chapter Ten

Kara was a whirlwind of emotions as Blake parked the truck in the hotel garage they’d left earlier, to be near the pier. There was something happening between them, something she wasn’t going to want to walk away from. She kept telling herself it was her using him to hide from the heartache she feared her mission was going to bring to her. But if that were true, it was only true because deep in her soul, she connected with Blake. She felt his pain, too. To believe he was one of them tore her apart. Yet she had every reason to believe he was, and nothing but what he made her feel to believe otherwise.

Blake reached under his leather jacket and gave her gun back. Her gaze lifted to his at the sign of trust that reached so much further than her purse he’d already returned. “You stay in the truck and lock the door,” Blake ordered. “But use that if you need to.”