Instead, she leaned into his touch.
"What happens now?"
"Now, we keep working. We stay careful. We don't give anyone a reason to suspect you're anything other than an overworked event coordinator." His hand dropped from her face, and she felt the loss of contact like a physical ache. "And we don't do this again. Not here. Not where anyone could see."
"Right. Of course." She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. "Professional boundaries."
"Lila."
She looked up.
"This isn't about boundaries." His voice was rough. "This is about keeping you safe. If anyone suspects there's something between us—something more than professional—they'll use it. Against both of us."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"I understand that you're trying to protect me." She held his gaze. "I also understand that I'm a grown woman who's been making her own decisions for a long time. So let me be clear: if something happens between us, it will be because I chose it. Not because you swept me off my feet or I got carried away by the drama of the situation. Because I chose it."
He stared at her. For a moment, she thought she'd gone too far. Said too much.
Then he nodded, once, his posture changed briefly. It was subtle but noticeable. Respect, maybe. Or recognition.
"When this is over," he said quietly. "When the case is closed, and you don't have to pretend anymore, and I don't have to lie about why I'm here. Ask me again."
"Ask you what?"
"Anything you want." He moved toward the door. "And I'll give you an honest answer."
Ronan pulled out his phone and texted Caleb.
Passive eyes tonight on Lila. Her trip home, until she’s safe in the house.
Roger that.
He left without looking back. Lila stood in her office, alone with the silence and the shadows and the question she'd carry with her for however long it took to reach the other side of this.
When this is over.
She just had to survive long enough to find out what that looked like.
Chapter Seven
Ronan couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd leaned into his touch.
He sat in his cottage on Beach Road, laptop open, coffee cold beside him, and replayed the moment in his mind. Her face in his palm. The tear on her cheek. The way she'd looked at him when she said she understood he was trying to protect her.
If something happens between us, it will be because I chose it.
She was stronger than he'd expected. More direct. Most civilians he'd worked with wanted to be protected, wanted someone else to take charge of the dangerous parts. Lila wanted a partnership. Honesty. Agency.
It terrified him.
His phone buzzed. Caleb.
Hendricks’ financial records just came through. You're going to want to see this.
Ronan pulled up the secure file share and started scrolling. Bank statements. Transaction records. A web of transfers that bounced through three different states before landing in accounts held by shell companies.
