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Tears brimmed in Alyssa’s eyes. The face on the screen was shockingly familiar because it haunted her dreams. The hard-hitting freelance journalist she had freed that long ago day.

“Callie Northwood. It’s so good to set eyes on you.”

The woman’s smile widened. “Miss Vargas.”

“Please call me Alyssa.” She hugged herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

She looked softer somehow, more human than the image Alyssa held in her mind all these years.

“I searched for you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Special Operative Chase told me. The reason you couldn’t find me was because I changed my name.”

Alyssa gaped in astonishment.

“Callie Northwood was my pen name. A little dramatic, I know. But I thought it gave me an edge in print and in the media.”

“I understand. You do what you have to do in this world.” Never could those words have rung so true as they did in this surreal moment.

She pushed a wave of dark hair over her shoulder. “After you freed me, I decided it was important to return to my roots and my real name. Izzy Cruz.”

“Izzy,” Alyssa repeated, testing the name against the image of the woman. It fit her much better.

“When Chase reached out…I thought it was important for me to connect with you. If not for you, I wouldn’t be here. You saved my life, and I never got a chance to thank you.”

A lump lodged in Alyssa’s throat. “You were incredibly brave. I’ve thought about you every day since. I never got to say goodbye.”

They continued to talk about how that day changed both of them for the better. They even discussed the bombing at the Red Cross and how the woman who died in that explosion had a son who took his life afterward and how they were hoping to find more living members of her family or anyone else connected to the son.

Interest lit Izzy’s face. “I never knew this angle of events. With your permission, I’d like to investigate this further.”

Alyssa nodded, eager to have more assistance in finding the woman’s family.

All the while, Julian stood back, listening and watching. He didn’t contribute, just allowed Alyssa to have the moment to herself.

He’d given her the closure she craved all these years.

She and Izzy ended the call with a promise to stay in touch. After the screen faded to black, Alyssa turned and walked straight into Julian’s arms. Her lover wrapped her tight against him, face bowed into her hair.

“I needed that so much, Julian. But you knew that. I needed to see the good from that day. Now I can bear the weight of what happened to the poor woman at the Red Cross a little easier. I did help people that day. My efforts made a difference in the world.”

He nodded against her hair. “You did. I hope you have a little more peace of mind now.”

She withdrew from his arms to search his face. “I’ve been thinking, and now is a good time to bring up the topic.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking about us. We both said things.”

“I meant every one, baby. I love you. I don’t want to let you go.”

She smiled up at him. “I feel the same way. After you left on the op, I did a little soul-searching, and not only about my career. I know that in Blackout, you’re not supposed to have people who are close to you.”

He cradled her face in his hands. “That’s true, but rules are made to be broken. And I plan on demolishing every last one to have you, Alyssa.”

She shifted onto her tiptoes to capture his mouth in a long kiss that heated fast. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“I have one question for you,” Julian said.

“What’s that?” She pressed her palms to his chest, leaning close.

“My room. Top bunk or bottom?”

She issued a seductive giggle. “How sexy.”

A wicked gleam lit his eyes a split second before he swept her off her feet. She let out a squeal that echoed through the house as he carried her upstairs.

One of their last encounters swirled through Alyssa’s head. The fast, scorching moment up against the wall had been the hottest thing she ever experienced in her life.

Julian kicked the door shut and twisted the lock.

Cradled in his arms, she tipped her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t think anybody’s going to stop eating pizza and having fun just to interrupt us.”

“I don’t take any chances. And never with you.” As he claimed her mouth, he let her slip down his body. When her feet touched the floor, she threw her arms around him, rocking into his body.

“That feels like a demand, not a negotiation, Ambassador.”

“I’m not an ambassador for very much longer.”

“You are to me.” He slid his hand up her torso to cup her breast. “You’re my ambassador of chaos. Every time you walk into a room, you destroy my focus and wreck my plans to keep my hands off you.”

She walked him backward toward the bed. Bunkbed.

He kissed her hard, bending her over his arm. Her mind whirled with a haze of desire. Tearing away from the kiss again, he stared down at her, eyes on fire. “You’re my ambassador of pleasure.”

She yanked his shirt over his head and ran her hands down the warm steel of his torso, over ridges and ripples of muscle stacked there from years of training. Passion stole over her, and she went for his fly, eager to feel the hard length that pressed into her body when he held her.

Reaching for the hem of his sweatshirt she wore, his eyelids drooped. “Seeing you in my sweatshirt is the hottest thing I could come home to.”

Her heart lunged against her ribs at his words. Any connection between Julian…and home …made her throat clog with emotion. Home was where her extraordinary best friend, protector, lover—her SEAL—was.

They tore off the rest of their clothes and tumbled into the bottom bunk. He positioned her on top, straddling him.

“Christ, Alyssa. You’re so damn perfect. My ambassador of truth—because one look at you and I can’t lie about what I want, how I feel or who I’d burn down the world for.”

“I love you, Julian.” She poised at the tip of his cock and took him inch by inch. The moan they shared stole any hope of taking this slow. In moments, she was rocking fast, taking what she wanted from the man she loved.

She spent her career watching out for other people, putting herself second. But the way he showed her love made her feel she was always first.

Her inner core spiked with sensation as he dragged his thick length through her walls. Their tongues flipped in steady swirls that increased in intensity with each stroke.

He clasped her hips, guiding her movements. “Ina son ki.”

“Ina son ka,” she responded without thinking.

His eyes gleamed. “I knew it. I knew Hausa would be one of your seven languages.”

Their exchange of “I love you” in the language widely used in Nigeria was a part of their story she wanted to keep exploring.

Then he cut off all train of thought by swiping the pad of his thumb over her clit. Her mouth opened on a wide O of bliss right before the storm of her release hit full force.

He captured her mouth, stoppering her scream and feeding her a deep groan as he poured his cum inside her with rhythmic jerks of his hips.

Long minutes later, they lay entwined on the bunk, their breathing matched. “What are the other languages you know?”

She hovered over him, gazing into his eyes. “I’ll never tell.”

He delivered a light pinch to her bottom that made her squirm. “I’ll get it out of you in my own time. You’re not the only one good at getting what you want out of people.”

She brushed her lips lightly across his. “That’s what makes us a good pair.”

“You mean perfect couple.”

Her lips spread in a smile. Because tonight, she belonged here—in his arms, in this room, in this messy, dangerous, beautiful life they were building together.