She wondered if he understood the power he had over her, then figured he probably didn’t. The Zach she knew didn’t deal with intangibles like love and commitment. Which was, she acknowledged, a terrifying thought.

Neither of them had ever been in a long-term relationship.

Neither of them had been married or even engaged. Neither of them had ever been normal, by the world’s definition of the word. She was willing to try, but she didn’t know what he wanted. For now it was enough to go on with things the way they were. This once, she was willing to risk her heart for a chance at something she’d never dared to dream about. This kind of love was worth the potential heartache.

In her heart, she wanted to believe it was going to work out. That by being together, she could convince Zach to join her on her journey to find her way to a regular life. She didn’t think he could survive going back to the field. He’d used up most of his luck. Next time she wouldn’t be around to rescue him. Next time he might die. And if not next time, then soon. If he stayed, it was inevitable.

Would he be willing to leave? Could he walk away? Would he face down the past and everything that went along with it? Would he be willing to feel? To love?

She didn’t have any answers. She could only go forward on faith, hoping that her love was enough. At times she believed everything would be fine. How could he turn his back on what they could have together? At other times, she wasn’t so sure. After all, he’d already broken her heart once.

She continued to stare out the window at the city. At some point, she must have dozed off, because when she next looked out, lights had come on in the offices across the street.

The sitting room was dark. She stood up, straightened and stretched, easing the kinks in her muscles. Her soda was warm and flat. The grandfather clock by the front door chimed the hour.

The floor lamps came on with the touch of a button on the wall. She walked over to the antique desk in the corner and found the room-service menu, then she headed for the bedroom.

The large room was dark. Drapes had been pulled across the windows. She couldn’t tell if Zach was asleep or awake. She hesitated, then figured it was important for him to eat.

“Zach,” she said softly from her place by the door. “It’s seven. Are you hungry?”

He reached for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it on, then sat up. Dark hair tumbled onto his forehead. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and stubble shadowed his jaw. He was a dangerous man, every inch a predator. She thrilled at his male beauty and wanted nothing more than to go to him and make love. But there was something odd about his expression, something that made her stay by the safety of the door.

“I was awake,” he said.

“Did you sleep?”

“For a few hours.”

“Good.” She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”

His mouth twisted down. “You stood by the door and called my name. Why didn’t you come to the bed and shake my shoulder to wake me up?”

She laughed. “Because I’m a damn good agent and I don’t want you ripping off my head. I mean that literally.”

She’d learned early on that most agents were like tigers-dangerous awake, deadly asleep. She’d forgotten the rule once on assignment and had touched a sleeping agent’s arm. In less time than it took to draw a breath, he’d had her pinned beneath him, a knife blade at her throat. It had been her first year out of training. She’d never made the mistake again.

She hugged the menu close to her chest. Zach didn’t join in her laughter. His mouth twisted down.

“You don’t seem satisfied with the answer,” she said.

He waved his hand. “It’s not that. You’re right. You are a good agent. What does it say about us that we are reduced to just reacting?”

“It means we stay alive.”

His gaze met hers. “I’m glad you’re getting out, Jamie. You deserve more than what this job has to offer.”

She didn’t like hearing him say that. “It’s not so hard. You could come with me. If we stayed in bed and made love all the time, we wouldn’t have to worry about getting enough exercise.” She forced herself to sound teasing and playful when in fact she was deadly serious.

He shook his head. “It’s too late for me. Hell, it was probably too late when I first signed up.”

“That’s not true. Why would you believe that?”

He shrugged but didn’t answer.

She knew he’d been through a lot more than she had. His childhood, growing up with parents who weren’t interested in him, serving four years in a juvenile facility, plus time in the military. Then fourteen years with the agency on some difficult assignments, including his last one. How many times had he faced death and walked away?

“Was it worth it?” she asked, not really expecting an answer. “Was the job worth your life?”

“The job is my life. I never thought I had a choice. And now I don’t know any different. I’ve been out too long. Tucked too much inside. Even if I could find my way back, I’m not sure I’d do it. What’s the point?”

“How about something less dangerous? Surely that’s worth a little effort?”

“You’re talking about being normal. For me normal has always been a bizarre concept.”

He was hiding from the truth, she thought with a flash of insight. It wasn’t that leaving the agency didn’t appeal to him; it was that he believed the price would be too high to get out. He had too much locked away. The thought of letting it out must be terrifying.

In the past, he’d hinted that feeling meant destruction. Was that true or just an excuse?

She thought about pushing the point, but Zach was stubborn enough to choose not to cooperate if he thought that best.

“We could go out to dinner if you want,” she said, changing the subject. “But it seems like a hassle to me. Why don’t we just order in?”

“Sounds great.”

She walked to the bed and handed him the menu. While he studied it, she wondered if she was really capable of saving Zach. After all, she hadn’t saved herself yet.

“I can’t believe you ordered that,” Zach said, pointing at Jamie’s dinner.

She looked up and grinned. Since they’d made love the previous night, she hadn’t tied her hair back in a braid. It hung loose around her shoulders. In her sweatshirt and jeans, with bare feet and no makeup, she looked about as sophisticated as a puppy at a formal dinner.

“Why not? It’s everything I’ve been craving. When I bought food for the cabin, I was more concerned with healthy foods that wouldn’t spoil. This is heaven.” She speared another piece of lettuce from her salad.

She’d ordered two green salads, a fruit salad and french fries. Zach shuddered at the combination. He, too, had wanted a salad, but just one, and a steak-served rare.

“Speaking of weird,” she said. “Why are you eating raw meat?”

“It’s not raw.”

“Sure, it is. It’s probably not even warm.” She grimaced. “I suppose I should be grateful it’s not goat.”

“You don’t like goat?”

“Not anymore.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was in a little village in the Middle East a few years ago. I stayed with this family, posing as a visiting relative. There were guns being smuggled in and out of the village. Anyway, they didn’t really have room for me, so I slept under a lean-to with the goats. There was this one young goat that always curled up next to me. We really got to be friends.”

He could imagine the scene. Jamie’s blond hair dyed dark brown. Dirt smudging her face. By day she would have fit in with the other women, performing household chores. At night she would have slipped into the village and figured out what was going on. He wished he could have been there to see her.

“You bonded with a goat?” he asked, teasing her.

She laughed. “Sort of. So I found the gunrunners, took care of the problem. The family’s oldest son was involved with them. I managed to get him out so he wasn’t caught and taken away to prison. They were very grateful.” She popped a french fry into her mouth and sighed. “Heaven. That night they prepared a special dinner. Goat, of course. I wasn’t too concerned until I went to go to sleep and my friend was missing.”

Zach tried to appear sympathetic, but he couldn’t help chuckling. “They served you your friend.”

“Exactly.” She shuddered. “I haven’t had goat since.”

“Try two weeks in the desert with no supplies. Goat would have looked pretty good.”

She reached for her glass. They’d ordered wine with dinner. “Where was that?”

“Africa.”

“James Bond makes it look so easy,” she said. “Fancy technology, close escapes, great clothes. In the movies, no one mentions how bad you smell after living with livestock or camping in the desert.”

“Agreed. But I still like James Bond.”

She leaned back in her chair and grinned. “Me, too. Okay-longest assignment and where?”

“Eight months, South America.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Mine was a year.”

He cut off a piece of steak. “Yeah, but where?”

“Berlin.”

“There’s a hardship. Living in a house, having access to electricity and stores. Boy, Jamie, what a rough life.”

“It was hard,” she said, sounding faintly indignant, although it was difficult to take her seriously as she licked the salt from the fries off her fingers. “I had to learn German. I did okay, but my accent was very shaky.”

“Strangest escape,” he said.

She thought for a second. “Pretending to be a sheepherder in the Ukraine.”

“Air balloon from China to India.”

“Oh, I guess you win that one.”

They continued to play the game, comparing assignments without sharing details. They were both too good to let secrets slip out, even with each other. It was an odd way to pass the evening, but he enjoyed it. He hadn’t ever shared much about his work. Jamie was different from any woman he’d ever known.