And he’d been willing to do anything to get her out of D.C. Even use a bit of manipulation?
Would Tina really have gone against him? Or would she have followed his orders—and helped manipulate me, too?
Mercer...always the puppet master.
“Keep her safe, Agent Lane,” Mercer ordered.
“I told you, I’m done with the EOD.”
“We’ll deal with what you are and what you aren’t later.” Mercer turned for the door. But he didn’t open it. His shoulders were ramrod straight, his spine tall. But his voice was a rasp as he said, “I don’t want you to wind up like Marguerite.”
Cassidy’s fingers tightened around Cale’s.
“I loved her more than life. I should have made different choices. Maybe it’s always about our choices.” He glanced back. “I won’t make the same mistake.”
Then he was gone.
And Cale realized that he had just been well and truly played.
By a master. And a quiet, nervous doctor.
* * *
THEY’D GONE BACK to the safe house on Donaghey. Back for a few precious hours before their plane left for Texas. Cale was inside the place with her, just down the hallway, but Cassidy wanted him closer.
She stared at her image in the bathroom mirror. She looked like hell. Not exactly femme fatale material, but there wasn’t much to be done for that then.
Her fingers curled around the doorknob, and a few moments later, the heavy carpet was swallowing her footsteps as she slipped down the hall.
She needed Cale. They were alone, no other guards inside that safe house, and she wanted to be with him.
“Cassidy. Stop.”
Cale’s voice came from the darkness of the den. How had he even heard her? She’d tried to be so quiet.
“You’re hurt.” His words were gruff. “Go back to bed. Just rest.”
“I don’t want to rest.” She’d done plenty of that in the hospital, thanks to those ridiculous sedatives. Resting was the last thing on her mind. Cale was what she wanted.
“Cassidy...” Her name was a rough sigh. In that sigh, she could hear need and longing, the same emotions that were rushing through her.
When she was alone, Cassidy thought of all that she’d lost—her mother, Helen, Genevieve. She didn’t want to keep thinking of death and fear.
She wanted to think of Cale.
Of pleasure.
She wanted to be reminded that life waited for her. Not just the grim promise of death.
There could be more for her, more for them. Cale wanted her to return home with him. That meant something, didn’t it? She was more than a mission to him.
He’d offered to give up the EOD.
That meant—it had to mean—that he felt the way she did.
She took a few more steps toward him.