A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(21)

He knew just showing up like this would likely scare her, so he knocked on the back window of the Jeep—which would probably scare her too, but there was no way around it. There was movement in the front of her vehicle, but it was too dark to see much. He backed up, giving her enough space to see him in the moonlight—and hoped she didn’t close the garage door on him. “Amelia, it’s Nathan,” he called out, knowing she’d hear him.

The driver’s-side door remained closed.

He stepped forward again. “Amelia.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, stepping out silently from the opposite side of the vehicle in that hip-hugging black dress that showcased every delicious line and curve.

The sight of her made his mouth water. The raw reaction to simply seeing her annoyed him. She moved like a ghost, as quiet as any trained operative he’d worked with. He noticed she’d taken her shoes off too. A throwback skill to when she was a kid and wanted to be invisible at her home. The thought made his stomach twist.

“You keep your dome light turned off?” he asked. It should have turned on when she slid from the passenger-side door.

She blinked in surprise. “You show up at my house unannounced—when you shouldn’t even have my address—at one o’clock in the morning, and that’s what you want to ask me?”

He lifted his shoulders casually, keeping his game face on. This was his first job since his injury. He’d overlooked her in the files and didn’t have room for another mistake. He’d had the best training in the world, first in the Corps, then with the NSA. He couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Ever. It was fucking weak.

For now he ignored her question, wanting to get her inside and out of view of neighbors or anyone else. They hadn’t done enough recon of her place to know if Mercado was watching her. That was doubtful, but just in case, Nathan wanted to cover all his bases and keep her safe. “We need to talk.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, temper flaring in her eyes. The moonlight gave him enough visibility to see her, but her eyes looked dark, not the vivid blue he knew them to be. “You’ve got my number,” she said, her voice testy.

“I work with Maria’s husband.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the quiet street. “Can we talk inside where it’s private?”

She let out a sound of frustration—as if she wanted to strangle him—but nodded and turned away from him. He followed her into the garage, stopping when she grabbed her small purse and shoes from the vehicle. Without looking at him, she pressed the button to close the garage, then let herself into what turned out to be a mudroom. An insistent beeping started and she moved directly to the keypad on the nearest wall.

She looked at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Turn around.”

Doing as she ordered, he shut and locked the door that connected to the garage while she disabled her alarm system. She still didn’t speak to him as she opened another connecting door. This one entered into her sleek, modern kitchen.

She flipped on a light, dropping her shoes haphazardly as she made her way to a clearly custom-made wine rack. The crosshatched rack was above a granite countertop where a laptop and a stack of papers sat. Below the countertop was a small refrigerator for chilled wines. She plucked a bottle of red from the higher rack and took down a wide-mouthed glass.

“You want a glass?” she asked without turning around.

“I’m good.”

She snorted. “Sit while I open this. I can’t think with you hovering.”

Sighing, he took a seat at one of the ladder-back chairs at the center island. He wanted to talk to her but guessed that she needed to get her bearings. He could see it in the way her hands slightly trembled as she popped the cork—and he hated that he’d made her feel this way. Still, he knew on a certain level, she trusted him at least somewhat.

Otherwise she wouldn’t have let him in the house and wouldn’t have turned her back to him. “Amelia, I’m sorry to just show up like this.”

Glass in hand, she turned to face him but didn’t cross over to where he sat. Just watched him warily. “Talk. Now.”

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and was surprised when her gaze tracked the movement with just a bit of undeniable . . . lust. It sent a jolt of awareness through him. He’d never stopped wanting her. Years and miles of separation hadn’t seemed to make a difference. The woman had gotten under his skin and he’d never been able to get over her. From the moment they met, everything about her had been real. No pretenses and no games. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to her.

“What I’m about to tell you is classified. Maria’s husband and I are working on a covert op right now. Everything Maria showed you is true; women in Miami are going missing and we’re trying to find out why they’re being taken and by whom. We need to stop this operation.”

“Maria works for the government too?” Amelia’s voice held more than a hint of sarcasm.

“No. We just thought it might be easier for her to talk to you.”

“Why talk to me at all? From what she showed me, at least fifty women are missing and I don’t know the majority of them. What could she possibly . . .” She set her wineglass on the counter as her brow furrowed. “You guys think I’m involved?”