Born of Fire

“I work better that way.”


She dropped the bottle and turned to face him. His hair was hanging in his dark eyes that seared her. “No, Syn, you don’t. I don’t like what the alcohol does to you.”

Syn wanted to curse her and tell her it was none of her business. But right then, staring down into her face . . .

He was lost to her.

All he wanted was to have her hold him close and make everything else go away. Yet she couldn’t. Not when Tessa’s life was on the line.

I have to stay focused. Something that was impossible when she stood so close to him he could see her pupils dilate.

As if she could sense his desire, she reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “I see you, Syn. I know what kind of man you are, and the only thing I would change is your needless insobriety.”

“I don’t like to feel.”

“And yet you do. No matter how much you drink, it doesn’t really go away, does it?”

No, it didn’t. But her touch . . .

It chased the pain away. How did she do that? How could she love something like him?

“I will always stand by you, Shay. Always.”

Shahara’s breath caught at those ragged words that had come straight from his heart. They and the use of her nickname touched her deep inside. And before she could think better of it, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

His hand tightened on her waist as if he wanted to hold on to her forever.

It was then she knew the truth.

He loved her. He might not say it, but she could feel it in his kiss and his touch.

Syn wanted to curse at how good she tasted and felt. There was no one else he’d ever wanted like this. And as her tongue danced with his, his mind tormented him with thoughts of a life with her.

If only they could . . .

He pulled back even though every part of him screamed out in denial of it.

“We need to get going,” they said in unison.

Syn stepped back and indicated his stolen uniform. “But we can’t go like this.”

“Yeah, we’d look a little suspicious. So what kind of clothes did you buy?”

He motioned to the bag on the floor. “Didn’t you look before the hissy fit?”

“No. And I didn’t throw a hissy fit.” She picked up the bag and pulled out a shirt and pair of pants that were definitely cut for Syn. On the bottom was a rust colored pantsuit for her. It was made of the softest fabric she’d ever touched. “Nice.”

“I’m sorry it’s not better, but I didn’t have time to really look.”

His apology stunned her. “Don’t be sorry. It’s the nicest thing I’ve ever had.”

Syn clenched his teeth at the earnestness of her tone. Gods, how he wanted to rectify that. And as she started taking her shirt off, he realized that he couldn’t stay in here. Not if he wanted to stay focused.

“I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few.”

Shahara frowned as Syn all but left a vapor trail in his hurry to leave her. Shaking her head, she pulled her shirt off and dropped it on the desk as she exchanged her uniform for the pantsuit.

As soon as she was dressed, she pulled her shirt back. It caught against the magazine by his laptop and uncovered something that sparkled. Curious, she moved closer to find . . .

A wedding ring.

The sight hit her like a punch in the gut. Was it Mara’s?

If it were, it meant only one thing—he’d loved his wife. He’d been lying when he said he didn’t. And he must have loved her dearly for him to have kept her ring all these years.

Something inside her shattered at the realization.

Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s Talia’s . . .

But Talia had only been a girl when she’d died. Surely she wouldn’t have owned a wedding ring.

His mother’s?

No, he hated her too much to have kept hers. There was only one answer and it made her ill.

That’s why he didn’t tell you he loved you. He’s still missing his wife.

She heard him opening the door. Moving away from the ring before he caught her ogling it, she put her uniform in the bag and tried to act as nonchalant as possible. But inside . . .

Inside she was screaming.

He put his old clothes down by the couch.

“Will you finally tell me what the C.I. stands for?” she asked, wondering if he’d share that with her.

“No.”

She lifted her brow in surprise. “No snappy comeback? Why, Syn, I think you’re losing your touch.”

He said nothing as he shut down the computer. She saw him hesitate at the ring. Then he palmed it so fast that she barely realized he’d moved.

Looking up, he scowled at her. “What? Did I grow a new head?”

She cleared her throat as she hoped her face didn’t betray her anger and hurt at him. “No, I was just trying to think what name you might choose that would fit you best.”

“How about dead?”

“You’re not funny.”

“Neither is Merjack.”

She rolled her eyes. “So what are we going to do about him?”