A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [62]
Rachel wiped her hands on a clean towel. “She could have just told me to back off if she wanted you so bad.”
The burst of laughter erupted from Roman’s gut before he could call it back. He certainly didn’t want to go into the dynamics of his interactions—couldn’t call it a relationship by any stretch of the imagination—with Domino, but the thought of the woman playing possessive with him was hilariously funny.
“She’s been through with me for a long time, Rachel. And vice versa.”
“But you were lovers once.”
“Yes, we were. So were we. And it wasn’t so long ago, either.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she snapped.
“I’m not. I’m actually getting to the subject. I came here to talk about you and me, not about my past.”
Rachel took a step closer to him, her gaze darting between the walls on either side of her, as if they might close in at any moment. He sidestepped and she squeezed past him with such haste, he felt a cold wave of wind.
“Do you have a past?” she asked rapidly.
“A varied one,” he replied, knowing he’d be breaking contracts, agreements and regulations up to his ears if he told her one single detail. And yet, he was willing to share some of what led him here—what led him to Rachel.
“Can you tell me about any of it?”
Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her lips were frozen in a lethal line.
“Does it matter?” He winced. His reply had been automatic, practiced, grilled and ingrained into him. Could he ever revert to the man he used to be? Honest? Forthright? Real?
“Stop it!” she said, stamping her foot in such a way that she didn’t look the least like a petulant child, but a woman on the edge of losing control. “Answer the question! Stop hiding behind the persona some phantom agency cooked up for you. They’re not here now. It’s just me. Me and, please, for the love of God, the truth. I want to know who you are, Roman. But if you can’t tell me that, I at least deserve to know who you were, once, before you turned your life over to people who probably don’t give a damn if you live or die. I made love to you, Roman. Not once, not twice, but more times than I can count. So many times that my body still reacts to the air you breathe.”
He could hear her voice shaking, could see the force of need in her eyes, and he wondered how he’d gotten in so deep, so fast. And yet, his own passions matched Rachel’s point for point. What had started as sex, somehow, despite all the lies and omissions, had turned into something more.
He gestured toward the love seat in the center of the room. She sat, her hands tense on her knees, her shoulders tight. He dug into his pockets and decided not to sit beside her. He couldn’t possibly be that close and not take her into his arms.
“I work for a division of Homeland Security.”
Her eyes widened. “The terrorist people?”
With a nod, he started to pace. “Smoking out terrorist threats is our main directive. I was recruited to a joint FBI and CIA task force specifically investigating reports that a certain, deadly terrorist network has been using televised images in order to send messages to sleeper cells here in the States.”
Rachel sat back in the love seat, her stare disengaged from his. He knew this was a lot for her to process, but he’d decided to go for broke. Since he’d been shot at, he knew his position on the task force had been severely compromised. His cover had been blown. He suspected that the next time he reported to headquarters, he’d be taken off the case he’d worked since the first report came to his desk. But right now, there was no real harm in him letting an average citizen know that the government was actively pursuing potential killers.
Too bad Rachel wasn’t the least bit average or he wouldn’t be in this mess.
“What kind of messages?”
He stepped forward. This part, she’d understand. “Messages imbedded in the graphics.”
The whites of her eyes suddenly contrasted starkly with the dark, hypnotic green. “Graphics…where?”
“In the opening credits of certain productions.”
“Like documentaries? Like the one I was working on when we met?”
He nodded.