hand. She wasn’t a person scratching and clawing her way to the top of a department for the sheer adrenaline rush that came from success … not that he would have cared one way or another if that was her personal bent. But hearing her story, knowing what she’d been through, and maybe more important, knowing how she’d survived it all by putting her entire being on the line, just messed with him. Profoundly so. From what little he knew about her, his gut told him that this woman was just as exquisite on the inside as she was on the outside; a quality rarer still.
And due to a communications glitch and overlapping missions, he’d not only hurt her physically, but he’d also put her in harm’s way. Now he had to fix that, yet couldn’t do a damned thing while some lowlife slapped her around at best, or severely beat and raped her at worst. To make matters absolutely more insane, she couldn’t even protect herself once back inside Salazar’s hostile camp, not without blowing her cover, all because of the marks he’d left on her.
If he’d only known … damn .
Anthony wiped his palms down his face and banged his forehead against the steering wheel as she disappeared into a brilliant swath of sunlight. From where he sat in the shadowy garage, it was like watching an angel simply vanish into the bright light. Wearing a smudged white dress and no visible means to protect herself, she was fearlessly walking back into a place where other angels feared to tread.
He had to fix this, had to make this right. The Salazars had to go down hard when he took down Assad. More than anything, however, he had to make sure that Special Agent Sage Wagner came home in one piece.
God help him make this right.
* * *
She had to get out of the parking lot, had to get to fresh air. Sage was practically jogging in her heels as she exited the garage and entered the main shopping boulevard.
For a moment the chemistry between her and Captain Davis had been thick enough to cut with a Bowie knife. It was an unexpected jolt to her system, something so off the wall and crazy that she knew it had to be a result of the concussion. Yeah, she’d definitely bumped her head.
She didn’t do men on the job, didn’t lose focus while working a case, and in this circumstance, any deviation from the plan was a great way to get herself killed. Almost happened earlier, underscoring that point, so what the hell was her problem?
Shaking off the attraction, she set her sights on Avant Garde. Hopefully, Jeffrey wouldn’t be in, because if he was, there’d be an inescapable discussion about her bruised arms and slightly puffy cheek. She was more than a fav customer to him; she was a friend. Therefore, he’d undoubtedly stand in front of her fitting room door with his arms folded, giving her all the statistics about domestic violence, and caring about her—and it would break her heart to have to lie to him.
Sage hoisted her shimmering Louis Vuitton shoulder bag up, feeling every body blow that had landed, and squinted against the sun glare, Dolce & Gabbana designer shades be damned. But she had to play this out, finish what she’d started, and she definitely couldn’t afford to lose focus for personal reasons at this juncture.
To even go there mentally was ludicrous. She was living a totally fabricated life, built from the ground up by careful planning and her agency’s stealth. Birth records, phony high school records, false parental death certificates, bogus job records, even a couple of traffic tickets thrown in for good measure to go along with the fake driver’s license she carried in her purse beside the credit cards in her false name. Everything had been established to give her an entirely new history so that when Salazar had her investigated, he’d come up with a vetted mate.
No man with Salazar’s kind of assets and in his line of business was going to risk his empire on casual tail. The woman who got to get inside would
And due to a communications glitch and overlapping missions, he’d not only hurt her physically, but he’d also put her in harm’s way. Now he had to fix that, yet couldn’t do a damned thing while some lowlife slapped her around at best, or severely beat and raped her at worst. To make matters absolutely more insane, she couldn’t even protect herself once back inside Salazar’s hostile camp, not without blowing her cover, all because of the marks he’d left on her.
If he’d only known … damn .
Anthony wiped his palms down his face and banged his forehead against the steering wheel as she disappeared into a brilliant swath of sunlight. From where he sat in the shadowy garage, it was like watching an angel simply vanish into the bright light. Wearing a smudged white dress and no visible means to protect herself, she was fearlessly walking back into a place where other angels feared to tread.
He had to fix this, had to make this right. The Salazars had to go down hard when he took down Assad. More than anything, however, he had to make sure that Special Agent Sage Wagner came home in one piece.
God help him make this right.
* * *
She had to get out of the parking lot, had to get to fresh air. Sage was practically jogging in her heels as she exited the garage and entered the main shopping boulevard.
For a moment the chemistry between her and Captain Davis had been thick enough to cut with a Bowie knife. It was an unexpected jolt to her system, something so off the wall and crazy that she knew it had to be a result of the concussion. Yeah, she’d definitely bumped her head.
She didn’t do men on the job, didn’t lose focus while working a case, and in this circumstance, any deviation from the plan was a great way to get herself killed. Almost happened earlier, underscoring that point, so what the hell was her problem?
Shaking off the attraction, she set her sights on Avant Garde. Hopefully, Jeffrey wouldn’t be in, because if he was, there’d be an inescapable discussion about her bruised arms and slightly puffy cheek. She was more than a fav customer to him; she was a friend. Therefore, he’d undoubtedly stand in front of her fitting room door with his arms folded, giving her all the statistics about domestic violence, and caring about her—and it would break her heart to have to lie to him.
Sage hoisted her shimmering Louis Vuitton shoulder bag up, feeling every body blow that had landed, and squinted against the sun glare, Dolce & Gabbana designer shades be damned. But she had to play this out, finish what she’d started, and she definitely couldn’t afford to lose focus for personal reasons at this juncture.
To even go there mentally was ludicrous. She was living a totally fabricated life, built from the ground up by careful planning and her agency’s stealth. Birth records, phony high school records, false parental death certificates, bogus job records, even a couple of traffic tickets thrown in for good measure to go along with the fake driver’s license she carried in her purse beside the credit cards in her false name. Everything had been established to give her an entirely new history so that when Salazar had her investigated, he’d come up with a vetted mate.
No man with Salazar’s kind of assets and in his line of business was going to risk his empire on casual tail. The woman who got to get inside would
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