“What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“You did this?” she accused, her breath catching as another stab of pain speared through her.
He shook his head, regret rearranged the features of his face, softening the signs of anger that had been there only a second or so ago.
“One of my men.” His temper flared again. “But he claims he had no choice.”
Ami vaguely remembered kicking and clawing, and then the coup de grace, the head butt. “Why didn’t he identify himself?” she snapped, then winced. “I thought I was about to be raped—” her gaze met Tanner’s “—or worse.”
He crossed the room and visually examined her, as if looking for other signs of mishandling. “Worse was what you were headed for.” He glared at her then. “If you’d been caught by any of the locals, do you have any idea what they would have done to you? You weren’t properly attired and—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut him off. “They didn’t catch me, you did. I want to know why you’ve been following me and haven’t tried to contact me.” Pain seared through her again. What she really wanted to know was why he hadn’t gotten her out of here.
“Following you is my job,” he said tightly. “And keeping you alive,ifI can.”
Yeah, right. Her own temper rushed toward the boiling point. “For how long? Until I accomplish whatever task it is the CIA needs me to do?” He wasn’t going to rescue her…not until she’d done whatever the hell it was he wanted.
He didn’t have to respond. She saw the answer in his eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m expendable. Once I’ve done your bidding, it doesn’t matter whether I survive or not.”
“That’s not true,” he countered savagely. “I will keep my word. I’ll get you back to your son. I won’t go back on that promise.”
As if she could trust him. She didn’t even know the man.
“Forgive me if I don’t put a lot of stock in that guarantee,” she tossed back at him. The whole world had gone mad as far as she could see. The only thing she wanted to do was to go home. But no one would let her.
“Why didn’t you just let me go?” she asked, the anger pulsing out of her like the blood from a severed artery. There was no need to ask him how her son was, he’d never gone back. He’d been tailing her…her and Michal.
He looked away then. “I can’t do that. Not until this is finished.”
She threw up her hands in surrender. “To hell with it. I give up. I’m never going to see my child again and we both know it.” She rounded on him then. “Why not just admit that and be done with it? I’m dead, right?”
Ten long seconds ticked by before he answered. “As far as anyone else is concerned, your survival is not essential to the mission,” he admitted wearily.
She started to shake her head, but then remembered the hot ball of pain pulsing at the base of her skull. She laughed instead, a dry, brittle sound. “I knew it.”
“But that’s not the way I see it,” he pressed. “I’ll keep my word, Ami. You have to trust me.”
She glared up at him from beneath her lashes. “Like hell. I can’t trust anyone.”
“I have everything set,” he said more quietly as if fearing someone would overhear him. “I have a backup plan that no one else knows about. Your son is safe. I’ll see that you’re reunited with him. But you’ve got to do exactly what I tell you. I can’t help you if you get me killed or one of my operatives spotted by Arad or his people. I can’t help you if I’m out of the picture,” he reiterated.
She took the final step that stood between them. “Swear to me that you won’t let anything happen to my child and that if I survive this you’ll get me to him.”
“I swear.” He started to say more but didn’t or couldn’t. Slowly, without taking his eyes from hers, he lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “I won’t let you down.”
For that brief moment a memory surfaced—him holding her…kissing her. She blinked the image away. She remembered something he’d said that first day they’d met…something about their relationship before.
“Did we…?” Her gaze locked with his and she pleaded for the whole truth. She didn’t want any more lies. She was so sick and tired of deception.
“Yes.” He lowered his hand and backed off emotionally. She felt his withdrawal. “But that was before. Our…personal relationship ended when you went undercover.”
That meant only one thing. “He’s Nicholas’s father.” The words were scarcely a whisper, a mere breath, but the realization was so profound she staggered beneath the weight of it. On some level she’d known.
“Yes,” Tanner admitted. “He’s the father. Do you understand what that means?”
She looked up at him once more.
“If he finds out about the child, he’ll do whatever necessary to get his hands on him. Is this the kind of life you want for your child?”
