“I don’t have a tell. They beat it out of me years ago.” I twisted the top and took a drink to keep my eyes off the sight of her throat working. What was it about her neck that had me nearly feral?
“Hmm.” She set her bottle down on the counter. “Well, I guess I know you better than they do. Now what’s wrong? You know, besides the obvious.”
“You mean the fact that you seem to have chosen Kabul as your place of residence during a military overthrow of the government?” I put my own bottle down and walked into the center of the suite so I wouldn’t do something stupid like lift her to that counter and kiss her until she remembered that she’d loved me at one time.
“Yeah. Other than that.” She perched her ass on the arm of the sofa.
“I have a feeling.” I shrugged.
“Oh, we’ve moved on to discussing feelings? Look how much we’ve matured.” A smirk tugged at her lips.
The remark, though clearly teasing, hit a nerve. “From what I remember, I was the one completely open with my feelings the last time we met.”
“And from what I remember, you were the one who asked me to ignore our history so we could both get our jobs done here.” She stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles.
“Yeah, well, that’s getting more difficult by the hour,” I admitted, refusing to look at the way her pants hugged her hips, her thighs. “We’re in the calm before the storm,” I told her as I crossed the room to look through the windows into the courtyard below. There was nothing peaceful or artistic about it now. It had been turned into a corral, another waiting room, with a winding line of desperate people.
I turned to face her, preparing myself for the coming fight. “This place is about to blow, Iz. You can’t stay.”
“I don’t see you leaving,” she said casually over her shoulder.
“We are not the same.”
“Well aware.” She looked away.
“The senator has given permission for you to stay insofar that we can assure your safety and get you out.” I moved, putting myself in her line of sight. The glare she gave me made me wish I were wearing my Kevlar. “Iz, it’s getting uncomfortably close to pushing that limit. I’ve seen the maps. By tomorrow, Kabul is going to be the only exit point from this country.”
She took a shaky breath and straightened her shoulders. “Then it’s a good thing we’re already here, isn’t it? I’m not leaving without my sister.”
My jaw flexed. “I’m doing everything I can to get Serena out, but my orders are for you. And when the time comes, I will put your ass on a plane whether or not you tell me you’re ready to leave.”
“What are you going to do, Nate?” She stood, folding her arms. “Throw me over your shoulder and carry me kicking and screaming?”
I moved forward, consuming her space, until we stood toe to toe and she was forced to lean back in order to keep glaring at me. “If I have to, yes. You have no idea the lengths I will go to in order to keep you safe.”
“Because I’m your assignment.” The statement was an accusation.
“Because that’s all I’ve done since I met you, Isabeau.” My hands curled with the need to touch her, to pull her against me and beg her to leave.
“She’s all I have, Nate.” She held her ground as the air between us charged just like it always did. “I’m a trophy to my parents, and a memory to you, and . . .” She rubbed the empty finger on her left hand. “Serena is the only person in this world who’s been there for me unconditionally, the only person who’s never deserted me, and I’ll be damned if I leave her to die. If I go, there’s no one left here who cares about her. We both know what will happen to her.”
“You’d prefer to die with her? Because that’s a very real possibility. There are over four hundred miles of hostile territory for her to get through, and that’s if she agrees to leave. Every air resource we have is committed. I can’t just call her an Uber and send for her, and we can’t wait. You can’t wait.”
Her lower lip trembled, and I muttered a curse.
“I deserve a day,” she finally said.
“A day?” I repeated.
“For all the years I spent waiting for you, the least you can give me is a damned day to see if she’ll leave. Twenty-four hours.”
I straightened and retreated a step like she’d slapped me.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes flew wide, and she covered her mouth with a hand. “Nate, I’m sorry. That was wrong.”
“And if she’s not here in twenty-four hours, will you agree to stop being a general pain in the ass and fighting me about leaving?”
“Will your team be leaving with me?” Her eyes shifted into a pleading expression so familiar that I had déjà vu.
“You know I can’t.”
And there it was. The look I’d always put on her face eventually. Disappointment and misery. “You’ll stay while this place implodes.”
“Careful, Iz. You say that like you care what happens to me.” I put some space between us.
She followed after me. “I have always cared what happened to you!”
Except when she didn’t.
“That’s something you’re going to have to get over.” I forced a shrug. “If I wasn’t here, I’d be in Iraq, or a dozen other places you’d never even know about. I heard what Serena said, that you went to work for Lauren because she was pushing legislation to end the war.” My heart swelled and broke at the same time. “And I’m not arrogant enough to think that had anything to do with me, but just in case it did, just in case you’re living your life chasing that goal, then Izzy, you have to stop. Even you aren’t powerful enough to end every war. There will always be a need for guys like me to do the things that make it possible for you to sleep at night.”
Even if she was sleeping next to a man who didn’t deserve a single hair on her head.
“You deserve a life.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at me like the last three years hadn’t happened. Like we were still fighting for weekends and every chance to see each other, denying that we were in a relationship when we’d both known we were.
“I have a life.” One she wanted no part of.
“A real life, Nate.” She moved forward, lifting her hand and then resting it lightly above my heart. “A home. A future with . . .” She bit into her lower lip and then sighed. “With whomever you choose.”
The walls of my defenses cracked, and pain came flooding through, drowning my self-made promises to keep my distance and my mouth shut when it came to her love life.
“And is that what you have with Covington? A future? A home? Because I fail to see the allure.”
So much for professionalism.
“The allure?” She jerked her hand away. “He was there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
IZZY
New York
October 2018