He drew in a sudden breath.
"But," she added quickly. "You have someone in your life who cares about you. Your home is here, and I'll never ever want to live in this city. This can't go anywhere, Nathan. And when I saw you at Josie's house yesterday, you said, 'let's try not to mess up each other's lives.' So, I'm going to try not to mess up your life, and I'm going to say good night."
His mouth tightened. "I liked your first answer better."
She smiled, then stole a quick kiss. "One for the road," she said, and then she turned and walked into her hotel.
Ten
Bree took the elevator to her room and then bolted the door behind her. She tossed her bag on the dresser and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, her senses spinning, her emotions in utter turmoil.
She'd kissed Nathan. She could hardly believe it. Talk about the past and the present colliding…
She wished she could say she felt good about her decision to end things with a kiss, but she didn't.
Her senses were clamoring for more Nathan, and even though her brain knew she'd done the right thing by shutting it down, her body was tingling with the idea of Nathan's mouth on hers and his hands all over her body.
Groaning, she sat up, knowing she was going around in circles.
And she had many more important things to think about.
She took her computer out of her bag and turned it on. She had no emails that needed to be answered immediately, so she went on the internet and entered the baseball forum, wondering if anyone had answered her earlier message.
Smiling, she saw a message from Parisa.
Sorry I missed you at the Rowlands' house today. Still at the same number if you want to talk. Spending a boring night watching Wyatt pick up women. Could use a break. Call me.
Seeing that the message had come in a half hour earlier, she scrambled off the bed and dug out her own burner phone to call Parisa.
Parisa had been her roommate at Quantico. A beautiful, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, Parisa had the ability to blend into many different cultures. She also had the language skills to back up her appearance—fluent in French, Portuguese, Spanish, and Farsi as well as various Russian dialects. Parisa was the daughter of a former diplomat and having traveled the world, she brought an international experience that served her well. Parisa spent a lot of her time overseas, and it had been over a year since she'd last seen her.
Parisa picked up the call a moment later. "Hello?"
"It's me, Bree."
"Hang on a sec."
Bree heard some music in the background and then it got quieter, although there was now street noise in the background.
"That's better," Parisa said.
"Where are you?"
"Some bar by NYU. We came here after Jamie's celebration of life."
"How was it?"
"Sad but also oddly happy. It was bittersweet to see so many old friends, but not to see our dearest friend Jamie."
"Were there a lot of people there?"
"More than I expected—not just our tight group, but a lot of the people we went through Quantico with. It was fun to catch up. Now, however, Damon and Sophie are snuggled up together and Wyatt has two grad students hanging onto his every word. I miss my wing-woman, Bree."
"Those days feel like a long time ago."
"It has been forever," Parisa agreed.
"What about Diego?"
"He didn't make it."
"That's too bad. How are the Rowlands doing?"
"They tried to make it a joyful dinner, but I could tell that Vincent is still destroyed by the loss of his son. Cassie seems to be doing better."
"Vincent blamed himself because he'd always wanted Jamie to follow in his footsteps at the FBI. If Jamie hadn't made that decision, he might still be alive."
"Yes. He seems to carry a lot of guilt," Parisa said heavily.
"How is Wyatt doing? He wouldn't tell me where he was going after the big dust-up in New York last summer."
"Same old Wyatt—mysterious, brooding, can't really figure out what he's thinking or what he's doing. He said he's been doing some special assignments—whatever that means. Beyond that, I have no idea. Since we came to this bar, he's been all about finding some babe to hook up with." Parisa paused. "It has been nice getting to know Sophie. She's a good match for Damon."
"She is. I've gotten to know her better since she and Damon came back from their summer archaeological digs."
"Yes, they described some of their findings in great, boring detail," Parisa said with a laugh. "I never thought Damon would be into digging up old bones."
"He's in love."
"And love makes you crazy," Parisa said.
"What about you? What are you up to?"
"I'm heading to London on Sunday."
"To do what?"
"I'm not sure yet," Parisa said. "But let's get back to you, Bree. Your post had a slight note of desperation in it. Everything okay?"
"No," she said with a sigh. "I came to Chicago to consult on a kidnapping case."
"Damon told me you've been tracking someone called the White Rose Kidnapper."
"Who had been working his evil in the northeast until he made a sudden jump to Chicago. Now it seems that the kidnapper has decided to put me in the middle of his twisted game. He dug up my secret, Parisa, the one I told you about during training. He's forcing me to go back into my past, and I can't seem to stop him."
"Seriously? I thought all that was buried as deep as it could go."
"I did, too. There's a girl's life on the line, maybe the lives of two girls, and I don't know if it ends there. The kidnapper is trying to make me think that one of these girls is my daughter, the one I gave away."
"My God, Bree. That sounds bad."
She could hear the worry in Parisa's voice. "I don't know how he got all this information on me. Worse, I don't know where he's going with it."
"Maybe someone from your past is helping him. Have you run into anyone?"
"I have. But Nathan isn't helping this guy; he's trying to help me."
"Nathan, huh? Where do you know him from?"
"We grew up in the same neighborhood. He's actually the one person who knew about the baby. He helped me get out of Chicago. He helped me find a private adoption agency."
"Are you sure he's really helping you, Bree? It sounds like he could be the leak."
"It's not Nathan. I trust him completely," she said, realizing how true that was.
"Your voice just changed," Parisa said. "It got a little softer, sultrier. Is this Nathan more than a friend?"
"He wasn't…until about twenty minutes ago."
"Now we're getting to the good stuff," Parisa said with a laugh.
"Not really. I put a stop to everything."
"Why on earth did you do that?"
"There's no point in starting something that can't be finished, right?"
"Oh, I don't know. Living in the moment isn't always bad, especially in our line of work. But don't ask me about love; I never seem to make the right call." She paused. "Hang on, Wyatt is talking to me."
A moment later, Wyatt's voice came over the phone. "Where the hell are you, Bree? You should be here tonight."
"I wish I could be. How are you, Wyatt? What have you been doing?"
"Laying low."
"Is someone paying you to do that?" Of the five of them, Wyatt did the most undercover work, although his last stint had almost killed him.
"You don't think I work for free, do you?"
"Good point."
"Everything okay in Chicago?"
"I'm not sure yet. Still figuring things out. You know who is here, though? Tracy Cox."
"Cool, calculating Tracy?" Wyatt said. "Has she warmed up to you?"
"Not even a little bit. She's definitely enjoying having me report to her."
"That's a change for her. You were always out in front of her at the academy. But I have to say that even though she was a pain in the ass, she was smart."
"I'm trying to remember that. She asked me about Diego. I always wondered if something went on with those two."
"Not that I ever heard. I have to run. Keep us posted if you need anything."
"I will," she promised.