Lola Carlyle Reveals All

who’d told her she was making a mistake. Now, surrounded by her success, she felt herself relax a bit. She could take whatever he threw at her. “I’m sure you know I’ve been cleared of suspicion.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t hire someone to break into my house, destroy my property, and steal from me.”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts, waiting to learn if he had a bomb to drop on her again. “Now, that would be sneaky and underhanded. Sort of like you digging up those photographs and creating that website. But I didn’t break into your house,” she said, which she figured was a half-truth. Max had done the actual breaking, she’d just happily followed him. “I have an alibi.”

“Yes, I heard. You were with your new boyfriend.”

Had Max ever been her boyfriend? No, he’d been much more than that. In a short period of time, he’d become her life.

She waited for Sam to say something else. For him to pull the rug out from beneath her. For him to get to the point of his visit, and when he didn’t, she asked, “Is that it?” The silence stretched on and she realized by the look on his face that he had nothing else. No more photographs. Nothing to use to hurt her.

He tried anyway and said the one thing that used to freak her out and send her over the top. “Your boyfriend must like his women fat.”

Lola’s smile turned genuine and she started to laugh. Sam had always wanted her thin and sick and insecure. Needy. She was no longer the person who cared what he thought, and without those naked photographs of her, he didn’t even have the power to make her angry. She shook her head. “He loves my body just the way it is.” She told him the truth. Her trouble with Max had never been about weight or appearance. With just a look, he’d always made her feel desired and beautiful. It had nothing to do with her being weak and needing a man to take care of her. It had everything to do with his need to get himself killed.

When Sam didn’t speak, she lifted a brow. “Did you drive all this way just to accuse me of breaking into your house and to call me names?”

“I just wanted you to know that you haven’t fooled me. I know you were involved.”

“Now you’ve told me.” She pressed a button on her telephone. “Wanda, call security, please. Our uninvited guest needs to be shown the door.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Oh, yeah.” She released the button. “And if you come here again, I’ll file harassment charges against you.”

As she watched Sam leave, she felt truly free of him once and for all. If it were only that easy to get over her feelings for Max, she thought as she made her way back to the conference room. But she doubted she would ever fully recover from Max.

She’d just sat down when Wanda interrupted once again.

“There is another gentleman to see you. This one wouldn’t give his name,” Wanda continued, “but he said to tell you that if you don’t meet him pronto, he’ll commandeer your dog until you do.”

If it was possible, it felt as if her poor broken heart stopped and sped up all at the same time.

“Should I call security?”

As if security could stop Max Zamora.

“No.” She stood and closed the portfolio on the table. “Let’s all take a fifteen-minute break,” she suggested. Then, as she and Wanda walked toward the door once more, she looked at her assistant and said, “Show Mr. Zamora to my office.”

“I’m afraid he’s already in your office.”

“Of course he is,” she muttered as she moved down the hall. Once again she paused before the closed door and took a deep breath. Dealing with Max would be a great deal more difficult than dealing with Sam. She placed a hand on her rolling stomach and moved inside. And there he stood. His back to her, as tall and imposing as ever.

He wore a blue broadcloth shirt tucked into a pair of khakis, and the blades of the ceiling fan didn’t so much as stir one black hair. At the sound of the door, he turned and his eyes met hers across the room. “Hello, Lola,” he said. No bruises marred his handsome face, and she let out a relieved breath as his warm gaze slid down her body, then back up again. “What is that you’re wearing? A doily?”

As always, the sound of his voice warmed her from the inside out. He was alive, but he looked tired. And so good she had to fight the urge not to run across the room and throw herself in his big arms. She leaned her back against the closed door and held on to the brass knob. “What are you doing here, Max?”

“Looking for you.”

She didn’t want to talk to him, especially alone. She didn’t trust him, but more, she didn’t trust herself. She looked down at the toes of her sling-back sandals because she couldn’t look into his eyes, afraid she’d beg him to love her any way he could. To take whatever he was willing to give, no matter that it tore her up inside. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I love you.”

She closed her eyes and tried to shut his words out of her heart. “It doesn’t matter.”.

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” Since she wouldn’t come to him, he came to her. “I have been through too goddamn much this past week for you to tell me it doesn’t matter. I almost died, and for the first time, I actually gave a shit!” He grasped her shoulders and she looked up at him. The warmth of his palm seeped through the crocheted cotton of her dress and spread hot little tingles down her arms to her elbow. “I gave a shit because I love you.” She tried to pull away, but his grasp tightened, and he forced her to look into his face. At the anguish in his eyes and the furrow creasing his forehead. “When you walked out on me, I was so pissed off I could hardly see through the fog. I had a powerful anger burning toward you, but I thought I’d resigned myself to letting you go.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, no matter that when it was time to parachute out of a C-130,I couldn’t concentrate on the mission ahead of me. Instead, all I could think about was you and how your leaving felt like a knife in my heart. Then I plunged into the ocean and my CQC vest wouldn’t inflate. I fought like hell to get to the surface, but all the gear I was wearing weighed about fifty pounds and I was going nowhere but down instead of up.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, trying and failing to keep the tears from her eyes.

“Because I want you to know. As I was being pulled down, I fought more than I’ve ever fought to live. I mean, I fought and kicked hard. I fought to get back to you. The vest finally inflated after about five seconds, but those five seconds felt like five lifetimes, and it scared the hell out me. I didn’t want to go, Lola. I didn’t want to leave you. I want more from life than to end up as fish bait or cannon fodder. I want you.” He brushed the moisture from beneath her eyes and she felt her resolve softening. “Remember when your parents told everyone at your family reunion that I’d saved you aboard the Dora Mae? Well, that’s not true. You saved me, Lola. You saved me more than you’ll ever know.”

“Okay,” she whispered, loving him and wanting him so much, no matter the pain. “I’ll try.”

“Try what?”

“Try to live your life,” she said, and leaned her head back against the door. This was what she’d been afraid of. Of looking into his face and wanting him no matter what. Of knowing that the pain of watching him live his life was better than the pain of living without him.

Max slid his hands to the sides of her face and stared into her brown eyes. He’d driven like hell to get to her, and before that, battled terrorists like a man possessed. Because he was possessed. A man possessed with the possibilities of a new life. A better life. “No, Lola. You deserve more than that,” he said. “I handed over my pager this morning. I don’t work for the government anymore.”

She simply looked at him. “What?”

“I’ve decided I want to live long enough to take care of you for the rest of your life. Bring you soup when you’re sick. Comb your gray hair when you get old and can’t do it yourself.”

Typical of Lola, she said, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but I want to take care of you. I want to make you happy and see your smiling face across my pillow every morning. I love you, and I think we can have a great life together.”

Her gaze searched his as if she were looking for more. Something he hadn’t yet said. “But Max, if we fight or you grow tired of me, you’ll regret giving up something you’ve loved doing for a long time. You’ll miss getting shot at.”