A wave of regret hit her as she stared at Kennedy, but it soon passed as an ironclad resolve settled into her mind.
“Fine.” She walked to the door and reached for the knob. “But, sir, it’ll also be my last.”
Thirteen Months Later Monday, September 15, 4:00 p.m.
LILY FELT CAPTIVE in her own skin. The longer it took her to find Jackson, the worse the sensation became. It had been thirteen months to the day since she’d dangled three stories above the pavement and stared into his face before he let her go. She’d kept her word to the director and walked—and had hunted Jackson ever since. To end that horrible chapter and get her old life back at Unit 67. The life she loved and missed every second of every single day.
She couldn’t escape the mental imprisonment she found herself in, no matter what she did to combat it. So, on a daily basis, she took to the wide dirt path along the Missouri River snaking through Omaha and ran until her lungs gave out.
To clear her mind, her thoughts, her mood.
Endless months of searching had resulted in nothing but dead ends. Frustration and anger ripped through her veins as one foot after the other pounded against the well-traveled trail. Jackson couldn’t have just disappeared. People didn’t vanish into thin air. They always left a trace. Always. She just had to find it.
Her legs screamed at her to stop and her breath came in soft gasps as Lily eyed her fellow joggers. On cue, they moved left or right, as though somewhere deep within their subconscious, a tiny voice screamed not to have any contact with her, to get away from the impending danger.
A man approached from behind and ran next to her. She stumbled, regained her footing and picked up her pace. He matched it. Stride for stride.
Lily stole a quick glance at him. Dark stubble peppered his strong jawline. Short brown hair clung to his perspiring forehead and defined muscles pressed through his damp shirt. Everything female about her perked up. Damn. He’s sexy.
He also blocked her only escape route...unless she wanted to take a swim in the Missouri River to her left. Which she didn’t.
She picked up speed again.
So did he.
“Thought you could use a running buddy.”
“Not interested.”
“You know, they say women shouldn’t run alone.”
She snorted. This man had no idea what she was capable of. “Go away.”
“Not going to happen. I need to talk to you.”
Lily slowed to a stop and shoved her hands to her hips, glaring at him. “Look, I appreciate the Midwest friendliness, really, I do. But I don’t take to strangers interrupting my life, and especially my runs. Now. Go. Away.”
“I’m not a stranger.”
“Like hell you aren’t.”
She turned to leave.
“I do know you, Lily Andrews.” His voice sliced through the dusk air. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and pinned her with piercing blue eyes that made the clearest Caribbean water look dull. “Your reputation precedes you. I know you were 67’s best black-ops agent before you went quiet. I know that you moved to Nebraska to escape...”
As the stranger rattled off classified information, the irritation drained out of her, replaced by a white-hot rage. Who was this guy? Another 67 agent? How else would he know so much about her? She’d never seen him at Langley, so he had to be embedded in another agency. DEA? FBI? She refused to believe the alternative—that she’d been burned—and focused on searing his image in her memory.
Lily backed into the tree line, scanned the running path. Reaching behind her, her fingertips brushed the petite gun tucked against the small of her back.
The man mirrored her movement, almost as if he could read her mind, knew her playbook, and stepped closer. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
She gripped the butt of the gun. All her senses were on high alert. Why would 67 come after her now? A year after she’d walked? Did Kennedy honestly think the raging fire in her belly would have snuffed out? A soft crunching behind her pulled at her ears, and her muscles coiled. She cast an uneasy glance over her shoulder, calculating the impending risk.
Nothing but a bunch of young high school kids.
“Get your hand off that gun, Lily.” He stopped talking and let a group of joggers run past. “A Mexican standoff in public all but guarantees you’ll blow your safe haven to hell.”
He had a point. She tipped her chin toward him, carefully watching his movements. “You first.”
A grin spread across his face, and a deep dimple appeared. He raised his arms in surrender.
She stepped back and put distance between herself and the handsome stranger. “I don’t know who you think you are, but stay away from me. I won’t ask again.”
“Just hear me out.”
“Hell will freeze over first.” She pulled the gun out and let it hang by her side. It was an extreme gesture, but he’d rattled her.
His eyes widened, but so did his grin.
Lily cocked the hammer back. “Run. You have five minutes to be out of my sight. Or I’m coming after you.”
“As tempting as that thought is...”
She increased the pressure on her trigger. “I told you to run.”
“And I told you that a standoff wasn’t necessary.”
Before she could respond, he sprang and tackled her onto the ground, straddling her. She reacted instinctively, bringing her gun up to aim. He hit her at the wrist joint and sent the weapon tumbling into the tall ornamental grass planted along the running path, hiding it from view. Grabbing her arms, he pinned Lily beneath the bulk of his body. She gasped and struggled against his ironclad hold.
He moved his mouth to her ear. “Don’t make a bigger scene than you already have. We have an audience. Follow my lead or we’re both going to spend some time behind bars.”
Follow his lead, my ass. She fought hard, desperate to put some space between herself and this brute of a man. He cocked his head and grinned down at her.
“Don’t forget I asked nicely.”
Asked nice—
The stranger lowered his head and brought his lips to hers.
Lily froze. Every nerve ending in her body fired spontaneously—and without her consent—as he deepened the kiss, pulling a sensual reaction from her that she hadn’t experienced since Jackson. It hummed within every fiber of her being. What the hell? She tried to twist away, but he pressed down harder, the heat of his body seeping into her coiled muscles, coaxing them to relax, to let go.
To trust.
Not able to break his iron grip, Lily did the only thing she could think of.
She bit him. Hard.
With a surprised yelp, the stranger jerked back and stared down at her as if she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had—she’d drawn blood.
“Is everything okay here?” an older woman asked, eyeing them suspiciously. Her male running companion reached for his phone.
Lily’s eyes flickered between the couple and the man on top of her. He licked away the drops of blood on his lip and gently increased the pressure