Sweet Seduction Secrets (Sweet Seduction, Book 8): A Love At First Sight Romantic Suspense Series (23 page)

I’ll catch you.

She turned around and looked up at me with stormy grey eyes mired in doubt. She still didn’t believe me. I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“It won’t help you to know who I am,” she pointed out in a reasonable voice.

“How could it not?” I argued, probably when I shouldn’t have said as such.

Her smile this time was sad.

“It’s just a small part of the bigger picture. It means nothing, once you do what you’re told.”

“So maybe the question should be not what your punishments were, but how long you had to endure them.”

A small huffed breath came out and she glanced around the gym as if seeing shadows. We were alone; I knew every nook and cranny in this place. The shadows were empty. We stood several feet apart, in the centre of the mat, the boxing bags and dumbbells and jump ropes as audience. Eric, no doubt, watching from control.

I made sure not to look up at a camera lens. But I didn’t for a second believe Charlie had forgotten them at all.

“You know Jujitsu?” she eventually asked. “Aikido?Taekwondo?”

“I know a bit of this and a bit of that,” I offered with a shrug.

“OK,” she said, effecting a ready stance. The Korean martial art of the three mentioned, if I wasn’t mistaken. “For every point you land, I’ll answer a question. For every point I land, you answer one of mine.”

Did she have questions? Was I that much of an enigma that she’d battle for every single scrap?

I smiled, mirroring her narani sogi, offering a wave of my fingers as invitation. Game on. Not quite a literal ready stance, but then I had warned her: It was a bit of this and a bit of that.

“Charyut!” Charlie shouted.

“Kyungrye,” I replied, and bowed.

We came upright again, her face flushed, her lips slightly parted, her eyes glistening vibrantly under the lights. She looked so fucking beautiful, so fucking alive.

“Joon-bi?” she whispered.

I nodded my head, I was definitely ready. This woman could throw anything at me, anything at all, and I’d be ready. I’d told her that I’d catch her. I was determined to prove that to her now.

“Shijak,” I murmured.

And then I watched her fly.

I
t was electrifying
. There was no other word for it. Watching this man who you could pass on the street and not think too much of. Yes, he was good looking; strong jawline, making you think he was proud; blond tousled hair, that had you envisaging your fingers tangled in it; broad shoulders and thick muscles you couldn’t help but want to reach out and caress; eyes that could look right into your soul, see behind your walls, knock down your defences, and still make it impossible to turn away from all that alluring blue.

But you only noticed that, any of that, if you looked at him.
Really
looked at him, that is.

If I hadn’t really looked at Adam Savill, if it hadn’t have been part of my assignment to do so, I wouldn’t have looked twice at this man

And yet, he’d beaten me on the back of a bike.

He’d made me feel emotions I hadn’t felt since I was a child of four or five years old. And some I’d only played at as an adult.

He’d held his own in a boxing ring, making me have to work hard to throw a fight.

He’d broken into my apartment, faced off against one of the most competent specialists I’d ever known, and survived.

And he matched me, word for word, in Taekwondo. He knew the commands. He knew the positions. And if I switched to Jujitsu or Aikido, I was sure he’d meet me on equal footing as well.

This man rivalled me. Breath for breath. Heartbeat for heartbeat. He knew his ap kubi, moved seamlessly into a niunja sogi. Switched it up with a sonkai, threw in a palgup chigi. Rounded it out with a son deung.

We parried, dancing under the hot lights of the gym, making contact, sliding out of range, neither one of us gaining the upper hand. He was magnificent. A determined fallen angel; exacting his penance, seeking revenge. But it wasn’t vengeful, this desire I saw in his eyes. It was a hunger for knowledge; information that he thought would help him to understand.

It wouldn’t. But watching him strive for it was a pull I couldn’t deny. A weakness that would surely lead to my downfall. A crack in my shell that meant only one thing…

I was no longer Class A. No longer classified as “Does Not Exist.” To Adam, I existed. To Adam, I was a puzzle he was determined to solve.

No longer Class A, I was now Class D. D for “Drop.” D for “Danger.” D for “Does Exist.”

I should have made him work harder for it. I should have put up more of a fight. But I was intrigued. Beguiled. Caught in a web I’d willingly walked into. He used
everything
. His whole body. His entire existence. Every essence that was him he threw at me.

My breath caught; a stunningly ridiculous reaction.

My heart pounded; a useless waste of energy better served fighting back.

My mind whirred; possibilities, fantasies, fairy tale endings of happily ever after.

Ridiculous
.

And yet, I let him land the first point.

I was fitter than him; not that Adam wasn’t in peak condition, I was just beyond that.

And yet, I let him land the first point.

I was more deadly than him; not that he didn’t have the capacity to do damage, I could just read his next strike like an open book.

And yet, I let him land the first point.

I was quicker than him; not that his body didn’t flash by in a myriad of colours that dazzled, I was just able to track every move.

And yet… I let him land the first point.

I was sure I
could
have made him work a lot harder for it. I was certain I
should
have. But there was just something about Adam. Something mesmerising and addictive and shockingly unexpected.

He made me feel.

Fucking emotions. I was getting sentimental. The fight was fair. The opponent well met. Despite the fact that I told myself I was fitter, I was more lethal, I was faster than him. He’d managed to get me to lower my guard.

Letting him land the first point.

Why? It didn’t make sense; I always won.

Why? Was it curiosity? He did intrigue me.

Was it a reward?

Reward! Ridiculous! Reward for what?

Making me feel.
That’s what. Making me realise how
good
it felt to feel.

They’d hidden that from me. They’d taken that human reaction away. They’d made emotions out to be bad.
Evil.
But Adam reminded me how very good emotions could actually be.

Adam made me
feel
more human, more
normal
, than I had ever been.

So I let him land the first point. Because subconsciously I wanted more. I wanted more normal. I wanted more emotion. I was tired of feeling nothing, an empty shell that was about to break.

I wanted more. Even if only on this mat, in this moment. With him.

I just… wanted… more.

“Hot damn!” he shouted when I landed on my side from a well placed chagi to the ribs. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

I huffed out a breath at his puppy dog enthusiasm. At my weakening resolve around this man.

“Your point,” I hissed, rising to my feet. I’d bruise. The thought warmed me. He hadn’t been holding back at all.

He lifted a hand to his chin, watching me contemplatively. A plethora of thoughts flashed in his eyes. I couldn’t catch them. I didn’t have the heart to. He’d earned the point. It didn’t matter how; it was his. And now he could ask a question and I’d have to reply.

I expected a continuation of the questioning he’d started in the lunchroom. How I got tied up with the Department. How long it took for them to break me down. I wasn’t sure if I’d answer honestly. Changing habits, such as those trained into me for survival over the past ten years, was not an event that would happen overnight.

But he surprised me. He shouldn’t have. He’d been surprising me from the outset.

“What was your last assignment?” The room seemed to shrink in on itself. The question so brilliantly put.

Adam Savill was not a pushover. Hell, he probably knew I’d let him land that point. He was cutting to the chase, ignoring his desire to find out more about me, instead taking, perhaps, his only opportunity to gain knowledge that helped ASI.

He would have made a frightfully talented spy.

He deserved honesty. The Director sure as fuck didn’t anymore.

“I was part of an international operation dealing with world wide organised crime out of France.”

“Based in Paris?” It was a second question; I could have denied him an answer for that technicality alone. But swings and round-abouts; my turn would come next.

“Yes. Paris. I’d been there four years establishing a cover.”

“Like a sleeper cell.” It wasn’t posed as a question, so I didn’t reply.

“What happened?” he pressed, and I returned to a ready stance. Narani sogi again.

He cocked his head, then cracked his knuckles.

Four heartbeats later he landed a point.

I sat on my butt wondering where the fuck he’d come from, all the while he smirked down at me from his superior height.

“New Zealand under fourteen youth champion for Taekwondo.” His smirk became a beam.

I huffed out an incredulous laugh and jumped to my feet.
Under fourteen
; too early for our analysts to include in his profile. An omission that had cost me a point.

What other secrets,
surprises
, did he have in store for me?

“What happened?” He repeated his earlier question without further fanfare.

I brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face and let out a sigh. This went against everything I had ever been taught. But like Adam had pointed out, the Director knew that. He was using my training against me. It was time to change things up a bit.

How divulging this information would accomplish that, I didn’t yet know. But I had to start trusting something would work. For now, I was putting my trust in Adam.

And didn’t that fucking make me sweat?

“I had an asset. He’d proven very useful. Until he let me down.”

“How?”

I rolled my head on my shoulders, stretched my neck. Nothing made the nauseous feeling inside subside. I swallowed back bile. My training had been a form of brainwashing; my reaction to going against it was inherent now.

“You OK?” Adam asked carefully, taking a solicitous step closer. I held up my hand, warding him off, and then walked to the edge of the mat and picked up a towel.

It was damp when I pulled it back from my neck, from my brow. I stared down at it and wondered when exactly I’d started perspiring like a new fucking recruit straight out of boot camp.

“Sting operation,” I finally said, throwing the towel down in disgust and returning to the centre of the mat. “I was meant to be going in to pick up vital intel on the target cartel. I ended up being handed over to them on a platter. They knew I was coming. I barely escaped with my life.”

“The asset betrayed you?”

I nodded my head, flexing my jaw; ensuring I wasn’t grinding my teeth in discomfort.

“I dealt with the cartel. At least those that had been in the warehouse, hoping the higher-ups hadn’t been informed of my role. And tracked Jacques to Guangzhou, China.”

“China?” Adam queried, a frown marring his brow as he contemplated that.

“The drug ring had been international. Guangzhou was where most of their supply was manufactured.”

“Go on,” he encouraged. His forthright command settling my nerves; making me feel more like I was giving a report, than opening up a part of my soul to this man.

“The higher-ups knew,” I declared. “Shit hit the fan. I got my man, but right after I handed him over, I got shot to hell, and my cover blown from here to Kingdom Fucking Come.”

Adam whistled. “The assignment a bust?”

I shook my head. “Interpol had enough to go on afterwards and Jacques must have given up a shit tonne of intel as well, because the cartel disbanded. We got most of them. Not all. But enough. The mission considered a success.”

He was silent for a moment, then asked, “How did you get out of there?” The unsaid being
alive
.

“Bullet proof vest,” I quipped. He just frowned.

I let a long breath of air out.

“Caleb Hart risked life and limb to extract me. We made it to Hong Kong, the cartel hot on our tails. We lost them in what remains of Kowloon.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. Whether that was because of Caleb’s involvement or because he knew what the living conditions were like in the rooftop slums of Hong Kong, I didn’t know. But a sense of respect shifted behind his deep blue eyes. Respect and understanding, which left me feeling all kinds of uncomfortable.

I’d wanted to feel. I’d wanted to experience emotions lost to me for so long. But that didn’t mean I was adept at doing so.

“And now he hunts you,” Adam said softly. “From saviour to persecutor. Does that sound about right?”

“We are what we are, Stalker. And Caleb and I are merely parts of a bigger machine.”

I limbered up and beckoned him with a modified narani sogi. He offered a smile; knowing, assessing, that fucking understanding flashing before my eyes.

It was with an inner, deep seated sense of satisfaction that I had him on his arse in under two minutes. Both sweating profusely, both panting, my ears ringing from the effort it had taken to simply land a bloody point in this ridiculous game.

Oh, how I wished I’d never suggested this. But once he was on his feet again, hand waving out in encouragement as if to say, “Come on. Hit me with your best shot, firecracker,” I remembered why I’d taken us down this path of open discovery.

“What’s Nick’s angle? Why this firm? Why has he got a hard-on for drug dealers?” Three questions instead of one, but this was where my earlier leniency would pay off.

“He hasn’t got an angle,” Adam replied neutrally. “He just found something he was good at and turned it into ASI.”

“And the drug dealers?”

“Fucking up our city. Our country.” He shrugged, then added, “It pays well.”

I smiled, rolling my head on my neck, getting ready for the next round. That point was so going to be mine.

“So I guess ‘wrong place wrong time’ actually works,” I offered.

“He needed to prove something,” Adam said slowly, as though only now working it out in his mind. Like the rest of ASI, he probably just accepted Nick’s agenda without thought. I could never be that complacent. I’d been raised to ask questions; even the orphanage I’d lived in had trained me towards being a spy.

“Why?” I asked, to keep the conversation going. Adam was being as lenient with me as I’d been with him.

“He met Eva when he was young. Had nothing to show for himself. Let her walk away to chase her dreams and set about making himself into someone she’d admire.”

“Fuck,” I said on a breath of shocked air. “He created ASI for a woman?”

Adam smiled; it was that open and honest smile, the one that drew me in every fucking time. “Sometimes that’s the best reason to do anything. Sometimes all there is in life to live for is love.”

“You don’t believe that,” I huffed.

“Don’t I?”

I paused in my movements to ready for the next bout and just looked at him. This man who made me feel things I couldn’t even put into words. Was love to be one of them? I doubted it. What,
who
, had I ever loved in my life?

“You’ve had dates. Women,” I said softly. “One lasted two years.” He stilled, absolutely rock solid and immovable. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. “But you’ve never lived with them. You’ve never let them into your home for more than a few nights.”

“Where do you get this information?” he said, voice rough with unbridled emotion. And not the good kind; the kind he’d been introducing me to slowly. But something else.

“Big brother,” I said with a shift of my shoulders. “GCSB,” I added.

“Fucking hell. And I thought all that crap last year was just politics at work.” He shook his head. “They really bug our telephone lines?”

“Cellphones. It’s easier to piggy back cell towers than landlines.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “So, there’s a file on me?” he asked louder. “On everyone in NZ?”