“This.” She gestured to the walls around her, all of her work over the past five months. All of the heartache and loss she had channeled into her pursuit of the ones who hurt her. “We want the same thing, don’t we? To see the end of Opus Nostrum. Neither one of us is going to rest until those bastards are no more. So, why don’t we do it together?”
He glanced between them, where she now extended her hand to him. “Together?”
“As a team. As partners. What do you say, Rafe?”
He knew damn well what he should say. That his loyalty was already spoken for. He had a team of partners counting on him back in D.C., as well as the brethren he hoped to rejoin as soon as possible at the Boston Command Center. Until his mission was completed, he didn’t have room for anything, or anyone, else.
He should have told her all of that last night, before he let the situation with her get so far out of his control.
As much as she deserved to know the truth, until he spoke to Lucan Thorne and Sterling Chase, he couldn’t breach the Order’s faith in him by divulging his continued role as a warrior.
And there was a selfish part of him that didn’t want Devony to hate him.
Not last night, and not right now, when she was looking at him with such open trust and affection.
“I’ll have your back and you have mine,” she said, still waiting for his answer. “Do we have a deal?”
Rafe looked at her, swamped by respect and admiration, and something deeper that he didn’t want to name. Of all the things he owed her in the short time since they’d met, this was the one promise he could give her. That regardless of his obligation to the Order, he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. That much he could commit to without reservation, and with full honesty.
“Okay,” he said, the word like sandpaper in his throat as he took her hand in his. “We have a deal, Devony.”
The Order wasn’t going to like it.
He wasn’t convinced that he did, either.
CHAPTER 13
They spent the majority of the day reviewing every piece of information Devony and her father had collected. She loved seeing the way Rafe’s sharp mind worked, his indefatigable thirst for knowledge. He was focused and methodical, and she marveled at his keen ability to spot patterns and connections among even the most obscure bit of data.
He was a gorgeous male, to be sure, but his sexy brain was wreaking havoc on her senses too.
If she thought poring over her work together would help take her mind off all of the other things she wanted to be doing with him, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Every time he reached past her to pick up a photo or arranged a set of documents on their shared worktable, she struggled to resist the urge to lick the tangle ofglyphsthat tracked down his muscled forearm.
When he asked questions or shared his theories about Opus and the individuals who might have ties to them, she hung on every word, captivated by the sensual cut of his lips and her very vivid memories of all the wicked things his mouth had done to her body.
It was nearly impossible to ignore the steady drum of his pulse when he was seated so close to her. Her Breed senses locked on to that strong beat and the liquid rush of his blood pounding through his veins. Her fangs prickled in her gums, and she couldn’t decide what she wanted more, to have Rafe inside her again, or to sink her sharp canines into the side of his neck.
That latter craving was the last thing she should be thinking about.
Blood bonds were sacred. They were eternal, and not to be entered into on impulse. She could feed all she wanted on human Hosts, but one sip of Rafe’s blood would irrevocably seal her to him for as long as either of them lived.
Why that notion didn’t freeze her in her tracks, she didn’t want to know.
She had never been some starry-eyed girl mooning over the idea of happily-ever-after. God, was that what she was doing now with Rafe? She couldn’t possibly be that foolish. Apparently, losing her virginity had also robbed her of some good sense.
“Where’d we put your father’s cargo traffic log for Conley Terminal?” Rafe asked, jarring her out of her troubled thoughts.
Frowning, he sifted through an open file of handwritten notes.
Since it appeared she was alone in her distraction around him, she really needed to find something else to focus on. Especially since he seemed to have no trouble keeping a professional line drawn between them today.
“This one?” She slid one of the dozens of entries toward him.
He glanced at it only briefly, then shook his head. “I’m looking for the logs from February.”
“Here you go.” Devony retrieved the document in question and handed it to him, watching as he intently studied it.
