She didn’t say anything. And he wasn’t going toexplain anything. They both had their secrets. They weren’tfriends, or partners. She herself had said she didn’t “do partners”—whatever that meant. Maybe she’d beenburned before. FBI agents worked with other agents, but they didn’thave assigned partners. So what had happened to her?
Megan was a mystery he didn’t have time to solveright now. Not when his job was to find Zimmerman.
“Take the next left,” he said. “About a mile upthere’s a 24-hour store.”
“Okay.”
He directed her to the pharmacy and went insidehimself. When he came out he half expected her to be gone. He’dprobably have thought about ditching her in the same circumstances.The job always came before other people’s feelings—especially whenthose people were professionals. Perfectly capable of taking careof themselves.
Megan was a strong woman. In the past couple of weekshe’d seen her get hurt in a gunfight and still carry on. That sameday two of her Double Down teammates had been killed when their RVexploded—another incident related to this that his boss was lookinginto.
The blackmailer had retasked a UAV on American soiland used it to attempt to cripple Double Down.
Adrian felt for them. He’d seen the pain in Megan’seyes at the funerals for the two men and in the days since. He’deven been at the meeting where they’d ID’d Zimmerman. His emotionshad been entirely too tied up in this whole thing and that had tostop. He needed to get his heart out of this, even though he justfelt for them like anyone would. It wasn’t about the situation. OrMegan.
He needed to get back to being a professional.
“Scoot over, and I’lldrive,” he said, tossing the bag on the back seat. There wasn’tanything he could do about the stain on the driver’s seat, so heignored it as he drove them to the hotel where he’d booked himselfin for the night. The kind of room with two queen beds. Would shemind sharing? It would be much easier to keep an eye on her when hecould literally keep an eye on her. Not in a creepy way. Hewas capable of being a professional, thank you. Just becauseMegan was a beautiful woman didn’t mean he couldn’t control hisbasic instincts. Be a gentleman. If she agreed.
“A hotel?”
He nodded.
“I hadn’t gotten around to booking a room.” Shestudied it like it wasn’t the same as every other chain hotel inAmerica. “I’d probably have slept in my car, to be honest.”
“This way you can clean up in an actual bathroom.Added bonus, you can sleep in a real bed.”
She eyed him, but he got out of the car. She had agun. He figured if he did lose his mind and actually try something,she’d just shoot him anyway.
When she got out, she said, “Can you grab my duffelfrom the back?”
Adrian did so. They used the side entrance, and hewalked her up to his room. He set the duffel on the floor in thebathroom and she went in, locking the door behind her. He took thetime to change into jeans and a T-shirt, figuring it would be atleast a minute before she was done so he was safe.
His phone screen illuminated. He looked at thescreen, which flashed to show the email from his boss. A reply tothe report Adrian had sent in.
Bring her in.
Adrian frowned, then flipped his phone face down onthe table. From behind the bathroom door, there was a loud thud.“Megan?”
He strode over and knocked. “Megan, you okay?”
Chapter3
Megan blinked and opened her eyes, feeling vaguelyhuman. She was lying on the bed. A quick shift told her the gunshotwound she’d received had been bandaged, and she was now wearing thejogging pants from her duffel. Same shirt she’d been wearing lastnight. So at least that was something.
Megan shifted to her elbows and looked around theroom. Adrian’s hotel room. He sat at the desk, working on hislaptop. Back to her. The sheets on the other bed were rumpled.Something about the sight of that affected her more than she’d haveliked. As though his being here made her feel…safe.
What was that about?
Megan took a minute to study him while he wasn’taware of it. Silver hair on his temples. Tall but slender, withlong arms and legs. He probably had to have his shirts custom made.She wondered if he was muscled under that T-shirt and sweater hewore.
The guy was like every other FBI agent she’d known.Trained with. Worked with. They were all essentially cut from thesame cloth. Follow the rules. Ask more questions than people wantedto answer. Discover the truth. Justice would be found.
Looking at him made her wonder how she’d managed tostray so far from that without realizing. She knew she’d lost herway. The fact she hadn’t gone to church in two years made thatplain to see. But when had she drifted from those basic tenets thathad governed her life for so long? Not in one step. It seemed morelike she’d moved, step-by-step from her core values.
Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity. The center of every FBIagent.
Now that they were so clearly right in front of her,embodied in all that was Adrian Walker, it made her realize justhow off course she was.
“Coffee?”
Megan started. “What?”
He turned. He’d known she was awake but hadn’t saidanything until now. “Coffee?” He motioned to the half-empty pot onthe counter with the pen he’d been using to write on a notepad.“We’ve got two hours until we have to beat the office in DC, so you have time to eat and get ready.”
“DC?”
He nodded, his attention back on his computer now.“My boss said the sweep of Zimmerman’s computer came in. We need tobe briefed.”
We?
She struggled to process what he’d just said.
“Okay,” she paused. “Wait asecond.” This was going way too fast. “Did I pass out in thebathroom?”
“Yep.”
“Did you break in and dress my wound, then change mypants?”
He shifted the chair around. Grabbed his coffee cup,took a sip. Shrugged. “You passed out. From seeing the blood, Iguess? Or maybe you got light-headed?”
She wasn’t going to tell him what the reason was. Itwas bad enough he’d been here for
