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C hase matched his steps to the commander’s, keeping his own posture easy and professional.

Thorne turned to him with hands clasped behind his back, his gaze flickering to him long enough for Chase to spot the question in his eyes.

Chase rubbed his hands together. “Nice base you have here. Good heads.”

Alyssa’s eyes bulged. The commander narrowed his.

Chase continued to deflect away from the real question hovering in the air. “I’ve been to a lot of restrooms on a lot of bases. Your personnel should be praised for their attention to cleanliness.”

Alyssa twisted aside, trying not to meet his eyes. Chase may not operate the same way she did when it came to diplomatic relations, but the restroom excuse worked every time. It was the perfect cover for his disappearing act. Nobody wanted to touch the topic, and Thorne was no different.

Though tension buzzed along Chase’s lower spine, he ignored the sensation. “We appreciate how accommodating you’ve been, Commander Thorne.”

He dipped his head in a stiff nod. “I hope you found what you were looking for in your research.”

He shifted his shoulders in a nonchalant way even as the lie rolled off his tongue with ease. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Alyssa jumped in, offering Thorne a gracious and engaging smile, all smooth edges and charm. “Thank you for the tour, Commander. It was very instructive. I’ll be sure to pass along all I learned about our military base in Syria to the secretary of state, who will inform the president.”

A man stationed on a dull military base in the desert didn’t often get a chance to rub shoulders with people of importance, so Alyssa’s mention of the president perked him up.

“We’ll want to stop by the base again before we depart. Just to catch up,” she went on.

“Of course. I look forward to it.”

Chase didn’t miss the pause. The way his eyes settled on Alyssa a beat longer than necessary. Not hostile. Not suspicious, exactly. But wary.

He’d seen that look before from men in charge, holding too many secrets under their skin.

A cough sounded behind them, and the three of them swung toward the open door.

“Rezvan.” Thorne stepped forward, hand extended for the new man to shake. “Just the person we hoped to see today.”

Alyssa darted a glance at Chase. He held up a hand for her to hold all questions until they saw how this played out.

“Ambassador, Special Operative, Lieutenant James Rezvan is the assistant I mentioned.”

“Hello.” Alyssa moved forward to shake his hand, and Chase did the same, sweeping his gaze over the man and committing every detail about him to memory.

Rezvan was older, pushing sixty, with sun-darkened skin. In full uniform, he must be hot as hell.

And his eyes held stories—plenty of which they didn’t ask for.

He nodded at Chase with respect and gave Alyssa a small dip of his head, avoiding direct eye contact.

“Lieutenant Rezvan, we’d love to learn more about the area. Are you willing to give us a tour of the city?”

He paused but finally agreed to Alyssa’s question.

Chase turned to Thorne. “Commander, if you can spare Rezvan for a short time…?”

He waved a hand in what was meant as a gracious gesture, but Chase picked up the terse nature of it.

“Then we’re ready. Shall we?” Chase touched Alyssa’s elbow, and she glided forward.

“Ambassador, this way, yes?” Rezvan clutched his hands in front of him in a reverent manner. There was a cultural modesty about the man, but something about it felt off.

He was being too careful.

They took their leave of the commander. Outside, Rezvan led them to a car small enough to get into the tightest corners of the old city. After Alyssa took the front with Chase in the back where he could watch the man better, Rezvan started the engine.

“I will guide you around the city another day. I’ll take you back to your accommodations.”

Alyssa turned her head to look at Chase.

He flicked his eyes to the back of Lieutenant Rezvan’s head, hoping to probe it for answers. “Is there any reason in particular why you want to show us around the city at a later time, Rezvan?”

“No time today, sir.”

“I see. That’s fine. We appreciate the ride.”

Chase could see Alyssa nibbling at her lips as if trying not to blurt anything out. But she clearly wanted to question the man.

Chase gave him directions to a spot a block away from the safehouse, and Rezvan pulled off the street to let them out.

Before Alyssa closed the door, she peered in at the man. “We look forward to seeing you again.”

“Another day. Another day.”

As soon as the doors shut, he shot into traffic, leaving Chase and Alyssa staring at the back of the car.

“What was that about?” she whispered.

He felt the prickle of awareness that always came with a threat—something he never ignored.

With a sideways glance at the street, he pressed Alyssa against the wall of the building, cloaking her body fully with his.

Her chest heaved. “Julian!”

“Play along.” He nuzzled her lips but kept his head angled toward the street, scanning, waiting.

Her lips moved softly against his. “Are we in danger?”

“I don’t know yet. Something feels off.”

She clamped her fingers on his side, and he felt a small shudder roll through her.

Several more heartbeats ticked by, and his sixth sense relaxed.

Chase took her by the arm. “We need to get off the street.”

Her eyes flared, the depths blazing with worry as she allowed him to guide her to the alley.

They slipped into the cooler shadows, passing several doors that led to various businesses, which was a good cover for the place they were staying.

But he didn’t stop at the door of the safehouse either.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to eat or drink in the house. We’re going to find a restaurant where we can talk. A busy one.”

There was safety in numbers. While he might just be picking up some undercover’s secretive movements that had nothing to do with him and Alyssa, he couldn’t take any risks.

When they found a restaurant with seating both indoors and out, he indicated that they’d like to sit outside. The table was situated beneath a canopy that offered shade and a measure of coolness. Once again, he positioned his back to the adobe wall with Alyssa inches away on his right.

If he needed to defend her, he could easily throw his body in front of hers or flatten her to the ground with a swipe of his arm. He touched his weapon along his spine just to satisfy himself it was ready.

Alyssa was tight-lipped, not uttering a word until they had drinks and food in front of them—more flatbread with spiced oil and this time a small plate of cured meats to share.

“What’s the real reason why we didn’t go to the safehouse?”

He hunched his shoulders. “I picked up on something.”

“Something.”

“It’s just a feeling I get.”

“ You get, or all special operatives get?”

He shrugged, his only response to the question. “It could have been nothing, but I don’t take chances.” Especially with you.

“Okay,” she said quietly, picking up a chunk of bread. “Let’s talk about the base. You go first.”

“Rezvan was definitely nervous.”

“You think Thorne warned him not to speak to us?”

He nodded. “I do. But I also think he will make good on his promise to see us around the city. He just wants to do it on his terms, maybe when the commander doesn’t know and can’t question him about it.”

She let out a sigh. The buzz of conversation around them, in addition to the traffic on the nearby street, provided the perfect cover to this discussion. But she still pitched her voice low and leaned closer to Chase when she spoke. The sweet notes of her perfume filled his nostrils, and lust stirred low in his gut.

She swallowed a bite of bread. “I asked the commander a lot of questions about the original matters I mentioned. But I dug a bit further too.”

“And?” He stuffed some meat in his mouth and chewed, surprised by the delicious spices. He really did enjoy traveling and sampling new cuisines.

“I asked about the helicopter.” She leaned closer, voice hushed. “Did you know that Echo team had their own pilot assigned to them?”

“That’s typical protocol.”

“Thorne also assured me that the inspection met standards that day.”

He scanned the area before dropping his gaze to the bread in his hand. He knew that too. Had read it in the reports. But there was more behind the crash, and everyone at Blackout knew it.

When Alyssa brushed her fingers over the back of his hand, he jerked his stare up to hers. The golden-brown depths of her eyes burned with sympathy. “What did you learn?”

He darted another glance around them, at the other guests enjoying their food and then to the cars passing on the street. “Somebody opened a portal that day.”

She stopped with her hand in the air, the oil-drenched bread inches from her lips. “A portal?”

“Things like that are used to allow access to the system, usually for techs to get in and perform system repairs. But this seems like this was something else.”

Her stare didn’t shift from his face. “You think someone gained access and tampered with the system, somehow causing the helicopter to crash?”

“Dante said as much. The system was scrambled. Those birds run on complex avionics, all of it tied into onboard computers. If someone hacked the network, introduced a command override at the right moment, it could’ve caused a catastrophic failure. I didn’t close the portal—Dante’s still inside the base’s system and in Thorne’s personal computer too. If there’s stronger evidence of tampering, he’ll find it.”

A shadow of fear crossed her face. “That’s so scary.”

“It goes to show that anyone can gain access to your life.” He searched her eyes for more shadows—ones she tried to conceal.

After talking to Dante, he remembered that he had to be keep his guard up. Anybody could be responsible for accessing Alyssa’s schedule, knowing her whereabouts. If not Alyssa, then her assistant.

He didn’t want to be suspicious of the woman sitting next to him, but he needed answers. Their attackers at the hotel knew exactly where she would be right down to the minute. And more importantly, they knew she was guarded by special ops.

Both things could point to the valet—the delay in getting their vehicle and tipping off the attackers about Alyssa’s security detail. But Dante had since informed Chase the valet had been interrogated and no connection to the attack had been uncovered.

He didn’t like the idea of questioning her, but first and foremost, Chase was Blackout. He had guidelines to follow even if he didn’t like them.

Even if it meant having suspicions about the beautiful ambassador he’d been in bed with hours before.

He tensed, and she felt the shift in him. Without meeting his eyes, she removed her hand and covered the moment by bringing her water glass to her lips.

There was plenty more to say, though.

He settled his stare on her profile. “What’s your read on the commander?”

She shook her head. “He’s definitely uncomfortable with questioning, but is he guilty? I can’t tell yet.”

“Okay.” He settled his shoulders more firmly against the wall. “Then what’s your read on Kennedy?”

* * * * *

Alyssa’s heart plummeted.

He thinks it’s one of us.

Her mind was spinning from the way Julian switched topics—like the best of interrogators trying to catch a person in a lie. But she knew she wasn’t responsible for giving away secrets, let alone access to her own calendar.

That meant…it had to be Kennedy.

Her stomach twisted at the mere thought of questioning her assistant. Kennedy was her right hand. Her walking, talking list of contacts, appointment reminders and so much more.

Yet…how well did she really know her?

Alyssa made good money. Not as good as some men who had been in her position for the same number of years, but the fight for equal pay was a topic for another day.

Kennedy made considerably less than Alyssa, but she always seemed to have disposable income. Designer shoes and handbags were the norm for her. When Alyssa asked how she could afford pricier things, she always told her she had investments. She was a financial whiz.

Which she would have to be, because Alyssa knew Kennedy’s background, and the money certainly didn’t come from her family.

All this swept through Alyssa’s mind like a hot river filled with toxic waste.

Right on the heels of that came a blast of irritation that Julian would bother to kiss her—or take her to bed—while harboring suspicions about her.

She stiffened her spine. “Why would I set myself up to be kidnapped…or worse?”

Their gazes clashed for long, pulsing seconds. Finally, he broke the stare.

She hardly felt like making a toughened SEAL back down was a victory.

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine Kennedy doing anything to hurt me. We’ve been together almost three years.”

“You interviewed her?” Julian’s angular jaw was firmly set, and though his eyes didn’t hold the same icy chill they once did when he looked at her, they weren’t entirely warm either.

Not as warm as they were last night when he joined our bodies.

She gave another quick shake of her head. “Kennedy was assigned to me. I didn’t select her or interview her, but if I’d been given the option, I definitely would have chosen her. We work together so well.”

He reached for the plate, picked up a slice of meat and brought to his lips. “Like peas and carrots? Does she complete you?”

“If you’re trying to lighten the mood, your references to movie quotes don’t have the effect you’re going for.” For another beat, their gazes locked…but the moment was loaded with something else.

Her pulse began to hammer faster. “Besides, I was going to say peanut butter and jelly. But really, she’s a great assistant, we’re friends, and she’s solid.”

No way could she miss something right under her nose. Her whole job was reading people.

“She was assigned to you. That means you didn’t vet her.”

“So?”

“So if anything was missed in the hiring process, that’s not on you, Alyssa. That would be on the FBI.”

She sat with the thought, letting it scrape like gravel under a boot.

“We searched your bags when you arrived at the base. Sophie, our resident cryptologist, went through your belongings for any link to the terrorist we believe is connected to that bombing at the Red Cross, and to Blackout.”

What was she supposed to say to that? It bristled that she was under suspicion at all, let alone had her privacy violated when the team searched her belongings and her phone.

Yet it made sense. Security must take the highest priority. She was a direct liaison to the secretary of state, who had the ear of the president of the United States. There was no room for errors.

Julian reached out, letting a fingertip trace a line from her knuckle to her wrist. A shiver rippled through her—one that had nothing to do with the conversation.

“Kennedy seems to have a lot of expensive belongings. Her purse is designer.”

She nodded. “Lots of people own expensive things. It doesn’t make her a criminal.”

“Prada. Gucci. Chanel.”

She nodded.

“And inside, every makeup product was a luxury brand too. So question is…how is an assistant able to afford such expensive things? Especially one who doesn’t come from money.”

Sparks of worry exploded in her stomach. She didn’t have answers to these questions that she had asked herself many times. Even though she was relieved that Blackout—and Julian—seemed less focused on her being a person of suspicion , she didn’t like the target on Kennedy.

Those small points of worry in her stomach made it pitch and heave so much that she couldn’t think about eating. She pushed away the bread and sat back in her seat. “I’m not feeling very hungry anymore.”

Julian’s gaze rested on her, not accusing but gentle with something else. Maybe regret that he had to be the bearer of bad news? The past few days had been a sandstorm—harsh, relentless, cutting like glass. And even now, with the dust beginning to settle, the air remained too thick to see the way forward.