Zane shut off the engine and eyed the park. “Where’d you say we’re meeting her?”

“About a quarter mile down the running path. She said there’s an old oak and a bench. Can’t miss it.”

Zane pulled the keys from the ignition. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

The fine hairs standing at attention all along Eve’s nape screamed the same thing, but this was their best lead at this point.

Grabbing the backpack from the backseat—the one Zane had had stashed in the wheel well of the car—she set it on her lap. She pulled out a Beretta 92G from the bag and handed it to Zane. “Those jam. Be careful.”

He huffed as he took the weapon. “Not if you use them right, beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes and checked the magazine on her Glock 17. “Her name’s Natalie.”

He climbed out of the car without responding, and her chest squeezed tight as she watched his long legs filling out the faded jeans and that black T-shirt molding to his strong chest and abs. He holstered the gun at his lower back and pulled the shirt over the butt, then swung the backpack over one shoulder.

He was upset with her over what had happened this morning, and he had every right to be. But it didn’t change reality. And wishing she could rewrite the past so she could have a different future was futile at this point.

Drawing a deep breath, she popped the car door and eased out. Cool morning air rushed over her skin, but the sun was shining, a sign the day couldn’t be all bad. She holstered her own gun and tugged her T-shirt over the bulge. Then she looked toward Zane over the top of the car. “Ready?”

He grinned her way—a mesmerizing smile that lit up his whole face and warmed her belly. “Sure, baby. You want to swing first or go for a walk?”

He was settling into their cover. Pretending to be a couple in love, out for a morning stroll. And while the thought of holding his hand electrified Eve, it also scared her to death.

Be tough. Be strong. Don’t give in to stupid emotions right now.

She worked up her own smile and moved around the front of the vehicle. “Let’s walk. I want to be alone with you, handsome.”

He tugged on a Mariners cap and took her hand, his skin warm, the pulse beneath strong and steady. But she felt the tension in his muscles. Felt the way he was holding back after everything she’d said this morning.

You have no idea how much I wish things could be different . . .

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them when he tugged her toward the path. A dog barked. Nerves gathered in Eve’s belly when she realized heads were turning their direction.

Zane’s fingers, intertwined with hers, shifted to her lower back, pinning her arm behind her. Then he stopped, tugged her into him, and lowered his head. “People are looking.”

They’d talked about this. About the fact they’d be in a public place. That people would be on the lookout for anyone out of the norm. That Zane’s description was all over the news. But her face still hadn’t been made public by the CIA, and whatever they could do to keep attention off him as an individual was their only hope of not being caught.

She’d known he might have to kiss her. That she’d have to pretend—again—to be his girlfriend or wife or lover. But the moment his head lowered and she felt his soft lips brush hers, creating a believable cover became the last thing on her mind.

Warmth pressed against her mouth. And memories of last night—when he’d kissed her in the shower, when he’d thrust inside her—filled her mind and sent sharp electrical currents of arousal all through her body.

She lifted her chin, pressed her lips against his more firmly, and tangled the fingers of her free hand in the T-shirt at his chest.

He groaned, and that hand against her lower back pulled her even closer into the heat of his body. And then his tongue pushed between her lips and dipped into her mouth, giving her a sinful, sexy, so-not-enough taste.

She moaned, tried to get closer. He answered by letting go of the hand at her back and sliding his palm down to cup her ass and pull her so close she felt the hard ridge of his growing erection against her lower belly.

This was the way it could be. The way it could always be if she just gave in. If she admitted how she felt. If she opened herself fully and showed him all of her.

He won’t forget the things you’ve done. He won’t forgive you.

The hard, coarse voice of reality slapped a hand against her chest and pushed her away from him. She pulled her mouth from his and pressed her face against his chest, frantically fighting for control.

“That wasn’t cover,” he whispered in her ear.

Eve didn’t push away, and he didn’t release her. He just went on holding her, breathing warmth over her suddenly chilled skin and rubbing a hand down her back. And though she knew for her own sanity she needed to get out of his arms, she couldn’t seem to move her feet.

“That was the real you, Evie. Wanting me the same way you did in that stupid apartment in Beirut. The same way you did last night. I know more about you than you think. I know you can’t walk away from me without it tearing a part of you to shreds. Just like I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all these months.”

Eve’s eyes slid closed, and she breathed deeply through her nose. Focused on the push and pull of air in her lungs in the hopes it would ease the sharp ache growing in the middle of her chest. She’d given up happily ever after when Sam died. Had never expected to be teased with it by another man. And now here was Zane. The person she’d tried countless times to forget and had never been able to. The person who made her want things even Sam had never stirred inside her.

“It’s nice to see you two haven’t killed each other yet.”

Eve stiffened at the voice and whipped around. A man stood feet from them on the path, hands tucked in the front pocket of his slacks, light jacket over his white button-down. His neatly trimmed blond hair blew gently in the breeze, and those deep, familiar blue eyes hinted at mischief.

“Carter,” Eve breathed.

James Dietrick’s smile widened. “Is that the best you can do, Juliet?”

Whether it was joy over seeing a familiar face or simply relief at getting away from Zane, Eve didn’t know. She pulled away from Zane and wrapped her arms around Carter’s neck, hugging him tightly. “Oh my God. What . . . ? How . . . ?”

He chuckled against her, squeezed her tight, and then let go. “I figured you guys might need some help. Don’t worry. No one from the Agency knows I’m here.”

Eve lowered to her feet. “Olivia?”

Carter’s smile turned grim. “Nothing yet. We’re still looking, though.”

A wave of sickness rolled through her belly.

Fingers gripping the backpack strap against his shoulder, Zane reached around her and shook Carter’s hand. “It’s nice to see you, man.”

Carter returned the handshake, then slid on his sunglasses and glanced around the park. The people who’d been watching them earlier had gone back to swinging and throwing tennis balls for their dogs. “Where’s this meeting taking place?”

“Park bench,” Eve said, refocusing on what she could do now. Miller would find Olivia. Zane had said he was the best of the best, and if he’d been DIA, she had at least a tiny bit of hope. “Down the path.”

Carter turned, and she and Zane fell into step beside him.

“You’ve created a heck of a mess, Eve,” Carter said.

At her right, Zane snorted. “The woman has a knack for finding trouble.”

Eve ignored him and looked toward Carter on her other side. “I didn’t have anything to do with that bombing. If the Agency looks into it, they’ll see I have no connection to Chechnya. And Zane was just in the wrong—”

“Eve.” Carter stopped and looked down at her. “Five hundred thousand dollars was deposited into your personal account two days ago. Through back channels, the Agency tracked it to a group in western Chechnya. The government has already seized your holdings. In a matter of hours, your face is going to be all over every police station computer screen and news broadcast in the country. That’s why I’m here.” He tugged off his glasses, and his worried blue eyes met hers. “I think it’s time you turned yourself in and got a lawyer.”

The earth shifted beneath Eve’s feet, and the park started to swirl in front of her eyes.

Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and tugged her back against a warm, solid male chest. “Hold it together, beautiful. We’re in a public place.”

Zane’s voice echoed in her ears and slowly trickled through the fog clouding her brain. Hold it together . . . Hold it together . . .

Five hundred thousand dollars.

Anger and disbelief coiled beneath her skin and threatened to explode. She closed her eyes and leaned back into Zane. Don’t lose it.

Zane’s broad hands massaged her upper arms. “Who strong-armed the Agency into awarding that defense contract to Aegis for Humbolt’s life?”

“How the hell would I know that?” Carter asked. “That shit’s decided by committee.”

“Was it Roberts?”

Eve stilled against Zane’s chest.

“ADD Roberts,” Carter said in a monotone voice. “In counterintelligence. You think he was involved in your failed raid in Guatemala?”

“I’ve heard . . . whispers,” Zane said.

His familiar voice echoed in his chest and vibrated into Eve’s body. But it was Carter’s silence that set her on edge.

“Christ,” Carter finally whispered. “Not here. Let’s get further down the path.”