“Take a seat,” he offered, his voice just a touch husky, telling her she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity.
The undercurrent of chemistry between them was undeniable, but they were both dancing around the elephant in the room. They needed to have a conversation about the night’s earlier events, but Mia was hesitant to start, and Max didn’t seem too eager, either.
He went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with two cold bottles of beer. He handed one to Mia, and their fingers brushed in the exchange. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, making her heart skip a beat. It was another reminder of the bond they shared, and of the fact that whatever their current feelings may be, their union was written in the stars.
But stars didn’t understand things like trust and betrayal. Mia did.
They settled on the couch, and the soft material beneath them created a sense of comfort despite the awkward silence. Max opened his beer, and the fizzing sound echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Mia followed suit then took a sip of beer as anticipation hung in the air. It was time to talk. They couldn’t put it off any longer. They needed to discuss where they would go from here.
“So,” Max said, “I guess we should have that conversation now.”
Mia nodded. “Yes, we should. You weren’t there by chance when I was attacked, were you?”
Max shook his head. “No. I’d been following the shifters.”
“You said you’re not FBI.”
“That was the truth,” he said.
“So, police then, undercover, or DEA?”
He shook his head then sighed. “No. To both. It’s not something that I’m able to talk about.” Max reached out and placed a hand over hers. “But if I could, I would.”
The touch of his hand was soft and surprisingly tender, andit was completely unexpected. Mia sucked in breath when it sent shivers racing down her spine. But she couldn’t afford to get distracted. There was too much at stake.
“If there are things you can’t tell me, then where do we go from here?” she asked. “Aren’t our mates supposed to be the one person we can be completely honest with?”
“Are you able to be honest with me?” he asked.
Yes,her leopard whispered, but Mia pursed her lips. Could she? One thing was for certain, she wanted to be honest with Max, but why should she put her heart on the line and divulge all her secrets when Max wasn’t able to be honest back?
A thought occurred to her then, sending a chill across the back of her neck.
“Are you a criminal, Max?”
“No,” he said with conviction.
She felt the honesty behind his words and breathed a sigh of relief. But still, if he wasn’t a criminal, then the fact that he’d been following the shifters meant that he had to be some sort of law enforcement.
“If you’re not FBI, police, or DEA, and you’re not a criminal, then there’s really only one other possible explanation and it would certainly explain why you’re not able to tell me why you were there tonight.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” Max asked as if he didn’t fully expect her to guess correctly.
“You work for the CIA,” she said, holding his gaze.
Max didn’t respond, but his head lowered slightly as if he were avoiding her eyes. His silence spoke volumes. Everyoneknew that people who worked for the Central Intelligence Agency weren’t allowed to divulge what they did for a living, so it must have been incredibly difficult for a shifter to have to be so guarded around his mate—even though he’d only just met her.
“Jesus,” she breathed. “So then, when we met earlier, you already knew who I was, who my father is?”
“On the contrary,” Max said. “I didn’t know either of those things, I still don’t in fact. But I was going to find out before I came to see you again. That was my plan when you told me that you didn’t want to be mated to me.”
He blew out a sigh and continued. “I wanted to be armed with all the facts so that I knew what was holding you back. But I had no intention of letting you go, Mia. You should know that. I would have come for you, and it would have been soon.”
“If you had shown up at my house, you wouldn’t have met with a very good reception. My father isn’t a good man,” she admitted. “He’s a criminal, of the very worst kind.”
Max frowned. “Wait, what’s your surname?”
“Johnson,” she replied.
