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As much as she wanted to deny it, he was hitting very close to home. She flashed back through the years of her childhood, all the playground fights and daredevil stunts she’d gotten dragged into just to prove that she wasn’t afraid. Her time in the police force had been more of the same, though on a grander scale, upgrading from fists to bullets, but still struggling to show she was as good as any man—better, even.

Marriage and motherhood had presented another set of obstacles to master, and that was the one area in which she’d failed miserably. Paused in front of the bookcase, Brock’s verbal challenge hanging behind her, she closed her eyes and remembered the argument she and Mitch had the night of the accident. He’d accused her of being stubborn, too. He’d been right, but she hadn’t realized that until she’d woken up in the hospital weeks later without her family.

But this was different. Brock wasn’t her husband. Just because they’d had a few moments of pleasure together—and despite the attraction that still crackled between them whenever they got near each other—that didn’t give him a license to impose himself on her decisions.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked, her movements clipped with irritation as she filed each book back in its rightful place on the shelves. “I think you’re the one with the problem. You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman who doesn’t need you looking after her. A real woman, who can survive just fine on her own and not let you hold yourself responsible if she gets hurt. You’d rather blame yourself for not living up to some imaginary bar you’ve set—some unattainable measure of honor and worth. If you want to talk about problems, try taking a good look at yourself.”

He had gone so quiet and still, Je

“Yeah, maybe you’re right about me, Je

“Custody?” she balked, but he spoke right over her.

“—and that means whether you like it or not, whether you approve or not, I do have a say in what you do, or who you come in contact with.”

She scoffed, outraged. “Like hell you do.”

He stalked over to her, barely three long strides before he was standing right up against her, the nearness of him sucking all the air from the room. Glittering heat lit his eyes from deep within. His fierce stare likely should have cowered her, but she was too hot with indignation—and too very much aware of the way her senses reached out to him in longing, despite the anger that made her chin jut upward. When she glared at him, casting inside herself for the tough-as-nails attitude that might have given her the strength to shove him away with harsh words or prickly defiance, she found it had deserted her.

All she could do was hold the breath that had suddenly gone shallow in her lungs. He ran his fingertips along the side of her cheek, such a skating, tender touch. His thumb lingered on her lips, stroking in a lazy pattern as his eyes drank her in for what seemed like forever.

Then he gathered her face in his palms and drew her toward him for a sizzling, and all-too-brief, kiss.

When he released her, she saw the sparks that glimmered in his eyes had now grown to bright, smoldering embers. His chest was firm and warm against hers, his arousal pressing bold and unmistakable against her hip. She staggered backward on her heels, a blaze of desire racing in her veins.

“You can fight me all you want on this, Je

CHAPTER

Eighteen





Brock made good on his intent to accompany her to the FBI meeting in New York.

Je

Although it was probably beyond immature for her to be amused, Je

And now, as they sat inside the dark cavern of an underground parking garage across the street from the FBI field office in New York City, Brock was still giving her orders from the backseat.

“Text me as soon as you’re past security.” At her nod, he went on. “Once you’re in your meeting with the agent, text me again. I want periodic text check-ins, no less than fifteen minutes apart or I’m coming in after you.”

Je

She could tell he was scowling behind his wraparound UV-blocking sunglasses. “If you won’t take this seriously, then I am going in with you.”

“I’m taking it very seriously,” she argued. “And as far as you walking into that government building? Please. You’re dripping with weapons and covered in head-to-toe black kevlar. You wouldn’t make it past the front door security—assuming the daylight didn’t fry you first.”

“Security wouldn’t be an issue. I would be nothing more than a cold breeze at the back of their necks as I passed through.”

Je

“I’ll do what it takes,” he answered, utterly serious. “This information-gathering exercise ultimately belongs to the Order. It’s our intel you’re going after. And I still don’t like the idea of you going in there alone.”

She pivoted away from him, stung somehow that he didn’t seem to see her as part of the Order, as well. She stared out the window at a flickering yellow light in the cavernous garage. “If you were so concerned I couldn’t handle this meeting by myself, maybe you should have let Renata come with me instead.”

He leaned forward, stripping off his shades and coming between the seats to take hold of her shoulders. His strong fingers grasped her firmly, his eyes blazing in a mix of deepest brown and fiery amber. But when he spoke, his voice was nothing but velvet. “I am concerned, Je