The taste of her lingered on his lips, and his heartbeat still stuttered a little. This woman— “We had a deal. You go, I go.”

“I didn’t make you that deal.”

He just blinked at her. “Yeah, you did.”

“You said it. I just . . . I didn’t want to fight with you.” Her mouth tightened. “But you shouldn’t be here, Colt. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You don’t want— Honey, like it or not, I’m in this with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since wh— Since a couple of Russian assassins who had your picture on their phones lay siege to my house!”

His words bristled her, and she clenched her jaw. Looked away. “I’m sorry about that.”

Okay, Colt, calm down. He knew better than this. Hadn’t been the best interrogator on the team for his propensity to lose his cool. Mostly.

He was a doer, but he didn’t lose his temper. Now, he took a breath. “I’m not . . . accusing you of anything. It’s not your fault, but . . .” His hand dragged through his hair. “You can’t just . . . disappear, Tae.”

“I can.” She looked back at him. “Disappearing is exactly what I should be doing.”

“Not from me!”

His own tone shook him, and now her eyes widened. “Why? You don’t owe me anything. I’m not your assignment.”

He blinked at her. “I know.”

“Then what possessed you to get on a plane and follow me down here?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at her. Fine. “I don’t know.”

Her mouth tightened. She shook her head.

And in it, he saw her sitting by his bedside, worried about him or feeding him or just . . . there, when he woke from a nightmare or, worse, some deep, lingering pain.

“Maybe it’s my turn.”

“Your turn for what?”

“My turn to . . . listen. To care. To show up. And I happen to have—”

“A certain set of skills?” A smile tweaked her lips.

“Fine. Yes. A certain set of skills. But most of all, Tae, I know you’re scared.”

Her smile fell, replaced by the tight bud of her lips.

He couldn’t stop himself from walking up to her. Hesitated a moment, then put his hands on her shoulders.

She met his eyes.

He blew out a breath, the rush to pull her to himself almost shaking through him.

But this was Tae. The woman who’d listened to his nightmares. The woman who’d cooked him dinner, played cards with him.

The woman that he’d called Flo because of her ability to help him claw his way out of the darkness, maybe even heal a little, inside.

He wasn’t going to start something that he knew would only break both of them—well, certainly him—in the end.