Page 43 of Claimed By the Bikers

“Silas…”

“Your turn,chérie. What made you so good at disappearing into roles? At becoming someone else so completely?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and I think she might not answer. Then: “My first undercover assignment. I was twenty-one, fresh out of Quantico, assigned to infiltrate a human trafficking ring in Seattle.”

“Ambitious for a rookie.”

“That’s what my partner said. But Ben insisted I was perfect for the role—young, pretty, desperate-looking enough to be believable as a runaway.” Her mouth twists into somethingthat’s not quite a smile. “The plan was simple. Go undercover as a prostitute, gather evidence, extract after two weeks.”

“But it didn’t go according to plan.”

“Nothing ever does. My cover held for exactly ten days before one of the girls recognized me from somewhere. Maybe a coffee shop near the field office, maybe just a familiar face in the wrong place. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Marcus—the guy running the operation—figured out I was law enforcement.”

I can see where this is going, and I don’t like it. “What did he do?”

“Gosh, I hate this part of my life story. Anyway, Marcus decided to make an example out of the federal bitch who thought she could infiltrate his organization.” She pulls away from me, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s cold. “Three days in a basement. Three days of Marcus and his friends showing me exactly what they thought of cops who stuck their noses where they didn’t belong.”

“Merde.” The word comes out rougher than I intended. “How did you get out?”

“I didn’t. Backup finally tracked me down, but not before…” She trails off, staring at something I can’t see. “Let’s just say I spent six weeks in the hospital afterward.”

“And Ben?”

“Told me it was a successful operation because we got the evidence we needed to shut down the ring. Said my sacrifice saved dozens of women from that life.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Funny how he used the same language last night when he wanted me to plant evidence on you.”

Now I understand why she’s so good at becoming other people, why she slips into roles like putting on clothes. When your survival depends on being whoever someone else needs you to be, you learn to disappear completely.

“That’s why you’re so careful about boundaries,” I realize. “Why you fought us so hard at the beginning.”

“I swore I’d never let the lines blur again. Never let myself care about marks or targets or anyone involved in an operation.” She looks up at me, eyes bright with unshed tears. “But you three made that impossible.”

“Good.” I pull her back into my arms, holding her against my chest where she can hear my heartbeat. “Caring about people is what makes us human,chérie. What makes life worth living.”

“Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Delacroix?”

“That’s my experience as someone who spent five years not caring about anyone after Céleste died.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Atlas and Garrett saved me from that. Just like you’re saving all of us from something else.”

“From what?”

“From becoming the kind of men who don’t trust anyone. Who see enemies everywhere and forget that some people are worth the risk.”

She tilts her head back to look at me, and I see the exact moment she decides to trust me completely. Not just with her body or her secrets, but with the part of herself she’s been protecting since Seattle.

“Show me,” she says quietly.

“Show you what?”

“Everything. The whole operation. Every route, every contact, every person you help. If I’m going to be part of this family, I want to understand what I’m fighting for.”

I study her face, looking for any sign that this is still the federal agent gathering intelligence. But all I see is a woman who’s made her choice and wants to honor it completely.

“D’accord. But first, coffee. And you need to put on pants if you want me to concentrate on explaining supply chains instead of thinking about all the things I want to do to you in that T-shirt.”

She grins, the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her since last night’s revelations. “What if I don’t want you to concentrate?”

“Then we’re going to scandalize the neighbors when Atlas and Garrett come looking for us.”

“Let them look.” She goes up on her toes, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that tastes like morning and new beginnings. “I’m done hiding what I want.”