Page 87 of Her Elite Assets

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“Well, don’t feel too bad about it. You did end up shooting me, so it worked out.” Once again, he used humor to deflect, but she wanted to ask the question. She wanted to ask him about Clark, but she had already said she didn’t want to talk about him. For anyone else, she wouldn’t be doing this. This was for her brother.

“How long has it been for you?”

“Roughly the same time.” That surprised her; she hadn’t realized that he left right after she did.

“I want to ask why, but it’s none of my damn business.”

“You can ask anything you want, Addy. Don’t you know that yet? Quite the obedient dog. Sit, Sam. Stay, Sam. Go, Sam. Hunt, Sam. I do it all.” What began as a flippant remark took on a distinct note of sadness at the end.

Shaking her head, she reached over and laid her hand on top of his. “You’re not a dog, Sam. You never were.”

“M’lady, are you trying to comfort me?”

She removed her hand. “No, I was being factual. You’re not a dog. Dogs are loyal.” She regretted what she’d said the moment the words left her mouth, but deep inside, she couldn’t deny the anger continued to simmer. Anger at him for taking the assignment to kill her brother. Anger at herself for not finishing Sam off when she had the chance. Even more anger, because she was still in this damn situation. At Red Wolf, who had eluded them for years, and continued to be one step—sometimes a dozen steps—ahead. Bugger all, it didn’t make any sense. And yet, here she was again, with Sam. Not because he butted in or intruded. Not because she’d called him, but because she needed him. “I’m sorry.”

A pause. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard what I said.”

“It’s very breezy out here, I might’ve missed it. Would you care to repeat that for me, please?”

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made a comment about loyalty.”

“You could’ve just started with and ended with the I’m sorry. You know, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never apologized. Not once. Not for anything.”

She sniffed and raised her chin. “That’s because I’m never wrong. Until now.”

He laughed, then slid an arm around her, the action so familiar and yet so alien in the same breath that she froze. “Take it easy, Addy. Whether you choose to believe me now or never, I’ve always been on your side. I am sorry that they didn’t give me the assignment. You shouldn’t have had to be alone when you found out they were turning on you. You shouldn’t have been alone when that bastard Brixton made hay off of your career. I should have seen what was coming…” Though he didn’t move away, his voice trailed off, and she realized that he’d ventured dangerously close to the topic she’d forbidden.

“You mean when they sent you after Clark.” He said nothing. “I know I said don’t talk about him, but we’re about to go do something dangerous or stupid or both. And you showed up. You didn’t have to, you’re right. I sent the message. So, tell me.”

She gripped the railing as tight as she could, even as Sam stepped in closer, his arm around her shoulders a warm and steadying presence.

“They brought me in and gave me a file.” His voice lost all emotion, retreating to that cool, distant place he went when he was talking about business. “It was very specific. It listed a series of crimes and activities, as well as dates and travel plans. All hotspots, all dangerous. Then they handed me a second file, one detailing compromised ops and attributed agency losses to a single person. The way the two files had been written, it made it look like the pair were lovers.”

Her stomach rolled at the very idea.

“If I’d paid more attention when you told me about Clark’s latest venture, I might’ve caught it sooner. As it was, I took the job because that was the job.” He didn’t have to add any more explanation. How many jobs had she done where she had simply been following orders? Compartmentalization was quite literally the rule of thumb within the agency. Their singular uniting goal was the protection of United Kingdom. Nothing else mattered.

“When I arrived at the cottage, I didn’t recognize the location. It wasn’t one I’d ever been to with you.”

No, Clark had stayed in a residence owned by their mother’s family. He preferred it, said it was quieter and gave him time to think. None of their neighbors hosted shoots, so he could take his breaks from trying to save the world, gather his thoughts, work on his puzzles and relax.

“The moment I walked in the door, I recognized his medical bag. And I knew what they’d sent me to do.”

White-knuckled, she forced herself to stand still, not to react emotionally. She had to handle this. Even if they discussed the near assassination of her brother. She’d asked for his explanation, and by God, she would hear his every word.

“Which also told me the other target was you. They’d given me the assignment specifically to get me out of the way and to make sure you were alone when they came for you.”

A jerk went through her. She twisted to look up at him. “You think they did that on purpose?”

The bland look he returned spoke volumes. “Only an idiot would send an assassin after an assassin’s girlfriend when that assassin is there.”

“They’re even more of an idiot when the assassin’s girlfriend—thank you for that title—can take care of herself.”

“Touché.” He blew out a breath and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “So, I knew I had to make a call. I could back out and leave Clark there, but they would’ve sent someone else almost immediately. I knew they were watching. They had to make sure that I was occupied, and the only way to do that would be to monitor my activities, which means they had to see what I was doing.”

Which had to have made it even harder on him. If they were watching, then they were ready to walk in with their guns blazing. She knew without a shadow of doubt Sam would’ve gotten out. Clark probably wouldn’t have. Not then.


Tags: Heather Long Erotic