Innocence & Betrayal

by Brittney Sahin

  He pressed his hand on the wall just above her shoulder and pinned her with his gaze. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since bullets had zipped in the air around her, but she couldn’t stop her body from responding to him. Her knees went weak, and she sucked in a breath.

  “Is that a yes?” she managed.

  A smile tugged at his lips, and he exposed his white teeth. “Aye. Sounds like a plan.”

  She forced herself to turn away from him to open the door, brushing against his body in the process. The heat from the brief exchange almost wrested a moan from her lips.

  She pushed inside the room and slipped off the hideous, government-issued shoes. “I wish I had something a little more . . . me . . . to wear.” She blinked a few times when she caught sight of a few shopping bags on the couch in the living area. She spun around to face him.

  “Kate and Michael are staying in the hotel. She went shopping for you while you were at the office.” He grinned.

  “I could kiss that woman.” She rushed to the couch and lifted the bags. “Maybe you could pour us some wine while I change?”

  He nodded at her and headed toward the kitchenette.

  She rushed into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She dumped the three bags onto the bed. Thank you, Kate. Lacy Calvin Klein undergarments, yoga pants and a few brightly colored T-shirts, two pairs of faded denim jeans, and a couple of stylish blouses. Score. She spotted a tube of mascara and lip gloss tucked beneath the clothes on the bed. Kate had thought of everything.

  She grabbed the yoga pants and a pink T-shirt, opting for comfort. She debated about whether or not she wanted to put on the make-up, and she decided it would make her feel a little more human. More womanly. After being held captive, make-up seemed like a luxury.

  She walked into the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror. She pinched her cheeks, adding a little color to them before applying the mascara and lip gloss.

  She peeled off the government clothes and granny panties before slipping into her new ones.

  “What are you doing, Ava?” She pressed her palms on the granite counter and shut her eyes. “He can hurt you. He’s too much for you.” She gulped and forced her eyes open, trying to work up the courage to join him.

  Her breath caught in her throat when she walked into the living room. Aiden was looking out the window, his back to her. He was wearing jeans that hung low on his hips, with a black sweatshirt. She hadn’t even noticed what he’d been wearing earlier. Her mind had been too preoccupied with thoughts of J-4-76.

  But Lord, the man was hotter than hell. She cleared her throat on purpose, letting him know she was in the room.

  He slowly turned toward her, a beer in his hand. He brought the bottle to his lips, but his eyes remained focused on her face.

  No, on her mouth.

  “Um.” He was the one now clearing his throat. “Red or white?” he asked, shaking his head a little.

  “Red is good.” She moved toward the window where he had previously stood, and studied the busy street below.

  “Here.” He handed her a glass, and she turned toward him.

  “Thanks.”

  A wave of nervous energy rolled off her, and Aiden sucked in a breath.

  “So?”

  “So . . .” She moved away from him, feeling the need for some distance. She had to keep reminding herself of all that had happened over the weekend. Her body, despite the fact that she clearly needed to rest and get her head together, was supercharging to some crazy, radioactive sex mode. She sat down on the cream leather couch and brought her glass to her lips.

  He joined her on the couch but kept a little distance between them. It was as though he, too, didn’t trust himself.

  “How is Michael? Kate?”

  He took a swig of his beer before answering. “Good. Much better now that you’re okay.”

  “I like them.”

  He smiled. “They like you, too. They probably think you’re a bit out of my league, though.”

  Her brows perked up. More like the opposite. “And what do you think about me?” She kept her eyes focused on the burgundy liquid in her glass. She rotated the glass in her hand a little, swishing the wine around.

  “I’m happy that I met you. Circumstances were shit, but I can’t imagine having never laid eyes upon you.”

  She looked down at his hand, which was now resting on her knee. “What is this thing between us? Is it real?”

  He set his beer bottle on the coffee table before reaching for her glass. “Ava,” he said with his hot Irish voice while scooting a little closer to her. “We are—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, his lips found hers, stealing her breath. His hand snaked through her thick hair and cupped the back of her head, pulling her even closer to him.

  She pressed her hands against his chest and pulled away from him. Panting a little, it took her a moment to calm her breath and steady her body. “Aiden.”

  The way she said his name must’ve alerted him.

  “You okay? I’m sorry. It’s too soon after what you’ve been through.” He pushed to his feet and moved back to the window, turning his back to her.

  “Aiden, it’s not that.” She tilted her head a little and pursed her lips. “Well, maybe it is that . . . sort of.” She stood up and approached him. “I guess I’m just confused. It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind, and I’ve just been spinning apart.”

  “Are you saying that you don’t feel the same way?”

  “And what way is that?”

  He turned toward her. “Hell, I don’t even know. It doesn’t seem possible that I could feel the way I do after such a short period.” He raked a hand through his hair before scratching his jaw.

  He was sporting a dark beard. A sexy, full beard, which made him look even more rugged. When they’d kissed, it had tickled her skin in a surprisingly pleasant way. “I know what you mean.”

  His eyes opened wider as he studied her. “All I know is that I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “Me neither. But . . . It’s been an intense week. And these last few days—I thought I was going to die. And part of me wants to say, ‘To hell with it.’ I should seize the day and live for the now. Just do what feels good.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “And you make me feel good,” she said in a low voice before looking away from him.

  “But that’s not who you are, is it?”

  Her shoulders sank a little, and she covered her hands over her face. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  He reached for her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, gaining access to her eyes. They began to fill with tears, and she had no idea exactly why. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to feel the pain of whatever was drilling her to the core.

  “Do you want space? Do you need some time to sort through your feelings?”

  “Do you?” she asked, a little breathless. She saw the hesitation in his face, and he released her hands. Her arms fell limp to her sides. “If you go back to Homeland, can you even be with me? Hell, with anyone?” He’d said he wouldn’t be undercover anymore, but still . . .

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I know that I want to get to know you more. I haven’t really thought through what might happen tomorrow or next week, though.”

  She moved away from him and went to the coffee table to get her wine. She was desperate for a drink. “Maybe we should both take some time to adjust to what has happened, and then we can figure out if there is a future for us.” She didn’t know whether that was what she even wanted. She’d already struggled with the pain of possibly never seeing him again when she’d been held captive, but now to make a conscious choice not to see him—was that even possible?

  This man. This funny, smart, sexy Irishman had cast some damn spell over her, and she didn’t know if she could just let him go. Because what if—what if he changed his mind about her? What if he decided he didn’t want her? Her insecurities pounded
through her with such force that it was making her nauseous.

  “Ava?” He touched her back, and she turned toward him. “Maybe that’s a good idea. Not so much for me. I know what I want,” he said, offering her a crooked smile. “But maybe you should spend some time with your family and distance yourself from what has happened.”

  “Will Homeland even let me distance myself?” she asked in a weak voice.

  “I won’t let them harass you. Don’t worry,” he said with conviction in his voice.

  “Thank you.” She took a sip of her wine. “And what about Sophia? Any idea as to what you might do?” She wasn’t sure why she was pressing the issue, but for some reason it bothered her to think of Aiden pursuing his mother with some vendetta. The woman had saved her life. And, although she had given up Aiden at birth, she was still his blood.

  She could tell she’d hit a nerve. Aiden lowered his head and shut his eyes. “I can’t think about that right now. I have no idea what I plan on doing, to be honest.”

  “I should probably get some rest before my folks show up. I’m not ready to deal with them.”

  Aiden opened his eyes and gave her a half-smile. “Sorry. Michael arranged for a limo to pick them up from the airport and bring them here. He booked a room for your parents and sister.”

  “Tell him thanks,” she muttered, although part of her was pissed that they bothered to tell her family anything at all. She could easily have gotten by without them ever knowing.

  “I guess I should go.”

  His voice sounded weak, and it hurt her. “Thanks for helping me this past week, and for coming to my rescue.” She could tell he wanted to apologize again for lying to her, but he didn’t need to.

  “I’m sorry you were ever involved in any of this.”

  Oh, but I’m not . . . She followed him, not sure whether she was ready to say goodbye. “I think I’ll head to L.A. with my family tomorrow. If Homeland wants to talk to me, they can find me.”

  He opened the door and turned toward her, standing in the doorframe. “That’s probably a good idea. Stay with your family and get some rest.”

  Part of her wanted him to ask her to stay, but the other part knew that she needed time to unravel and make sense of her feelings. She also needed to figure out what she was going to do with her life now. But would Aiden be a part of her future? Was it crazy for her to even consider it? She’d known him only a week. Then again, it couldn’t be any crazier than a nerdy biochemist helping to take down a top-secret government organization.

  “What is it?” He narrowed his eyes on her, and he touched her shoulder.

  She sucked in a breath and wet her lips before looking up at him. “I’m afraid that if you leave this room, I may never see you again,” she admitted.

  “If it’s meant to be . . .”

  She pressed up on her toes and brought her lips to his. She needed to kiss him one more time—just in case, it was the last time. She wanted to burn the memory of his mouth and the way he felt against her into her mind.

  He groaned against her lips and pulled her closer to him. He lifted her into the air and her legs wrapped around his hips. He deepened her already-urgent kiss, roaming her mouth with his tongue.

  God, he was phenomenal. Tiny pulses of electricity zipped throughout her body with his touch, making her feel alive.

  She broke free from the kiss. She opened her eyes, and he lowered her back to the ground. When her feet touched the carpet, she attempted to steady herself, but she was shaken. “Goodbye, Aiden,” she said with a broken voice, feeling a tremor of fear curl up inside her core.

  He was breathing heavily as he reached for her face and touched her lips with the pad of his thumb. “Until next time, Ava.”

  And then he turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Ava sank to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. A sharp, stabbing pain punished her body. No. The realization that he was gone, and that she’d let Aiden leave, slammed into her with brutal force. “No!” She jumped up to her feet and yanked the hotel door open. She darted into the hall but found it empty. “Aiden,” she whispered his name.

  She heard the sound of the elevator doors close, and she rushed to them. She stared at her reflection in the elevator doors and moved her hand to the call button—but her hand hung in the air. Frozen.

  She couldn’t bring herself to press it.

  And with slow steps, she lowered her head and moved back to her room.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Three weeks later.

  Boston, Massachusetts.

  “How are you holding up, Aiden? We haven’t talked to you since D.C.” Kate took a sip of her martini and studied Aiden, who was standing behind the bar, pouring a drink for Michael.

  “I’m fine. Really,” he responded before sliding a Jack and Coke to Michael.

  “And you’re sure you made the right decision?” Michael glanced over at Aiden’s father, Liam, who was serving customers at the opposite end of the bar.

  “Aye.” Aiden took a sip of his drink. “I can’t go back to work for the government. I like being here. I like running this bar. It’s good.”

  “You did a good thing, you know. If you’d given up on your pursuit of justice for the people from the mosque, then they’d still be in some underground jail.” Michael shook his head.

  “I guess so. I may not have helped Ava if I didn’t realize the connection—and God knows what might have happened, then.” It was the first time he’d said Ava’s name aloud since he left D.C.

  “Aiden?” Kate reached out for his hand.

  Her touch reminded him of the loneliness he had felt over the last three weeks. He’d been back at the bar for almost two weeks, and he’d had plenty of opportunities to fill the void inside him with casual one-night stands, but the thought hadn’t appealed to him. There was only one woman he wanted.

  “Have you heard from Ava?” Kate asked, focusing her blue eyes on his and pulling her hand away.

  He blinked out of his daze. “When or if she’s ready to see me, she will.” He forced a blank mask on his face, attempting to hide his emotions.

  “Aiden, it’s obvious you care about her. Why not go after her?” Kate’s brow creased as she looked at Michael while standing. “I’ll just be a moment,” she said as she walked off toward the restroom.

  Michael cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the bar. “Kate’s right,” he finally said.

  Aiden looked down at the ice in his empty drink for a moment before smirking. “Kate’s always right.”

  “True.”

  “But Ava needs time. When she’s ready—”

  Michael cut him off. “You ever wonder if she’s thinking the exact same thing? Maybe she’s waiting for you. Giving you time.” Michael arched his shoulders back and glanced at Liam again. “You should go after her. Don’t sit around and wait for her to come to you. Hell, you should never have given each other time to begin with.” He shrugged. “Trust me. I made that mistake, remember? And when you know, you know.”

  And Aiden knew. He’d known the second he laid eyes on Ava. And now there were no excuses—he was no longer with Homeland, no longer an undercover agent with a rapidly changing identity. He had nothing to hide.

  “I don’t know,” he responded in a hoarse voice.

  “Look at your father, Aiden. The man loved your mother after one week of knowing her. He loved so hard that he never gave another woman a chance. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life wondering if you let the woman of your dreams slip away?”

  Aiden rubbed a hand over his face. “And if she doesn’t want me?” Like my mum didn’t want me? “I’ll give her more time. It’s only been three weeks.” Three long, bloody weeks.

  “And did you need those three weeks to know Ava was the one?”

  “No,” he was quick to answer.

  “Then she didn’t, either.”

  “I don’t even know where she is.” He folded his arms and leane
d against the back counter.

  “We found her when she was being held captive by a top-secret agency. I think we can find her in Beverly Hills.” He grinned at Aiden and pulled out his cell phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Finding her.”

  “What if I don’t want you to?”

  Michael guffawed. “I’ll give you the information. Do what you want with it.”

  ***

  One week later.

  Los Angeles, California.

  “You’re super boring.”

  Ava stared at her twin sister, Lily, with her mouth parted open. “I am not.”

  “You just want to sit at this table and do nothing. Let’s mingle. Talk to some guys. Dance!” Lily focused her attention on a guy a few tables away.

  Ava studied the guy. He was Lily’s typical kind of man: tall, built, gorgeous. And highly unavailable, as he had a woman’s arm draped over his. “We’ll have fun, I promise. I just need to get a little more champagne in me to help me loosen up. You know I’m not a fan of these splashy events.”

  Lily sighed and shoved her glass toward Ava. “Here. Drink mine, too.” She pressed a hand on her collarbone and stifled a yawn. “Look at me. I’m getting tired because of you.”

  Ava wrinkled her nose at Lily before downing her glass of champagne and then reached for her sister’s glass. “I hate dressing up. I’m not sure if I can even move in this dress. And the shoes you made me wear—they should be against the law.” She looked down at the designer, black trumpet mermaid gown she was wearing and wondered how much it had actually cost her sister. The sequined one-shoulder dress with sweep train tulle was about the fanciest thing she’d ever worn. She only wished she cared.

  “You look fabulous. Besides, you need to get laid. It’s been, what, like a month since you hooked up with that Irish guy?”

  Ava glowered at her sister, wondering how they were not only sisters but twins. Aside from their looks, they were nothing alike. “That Irish guy—”

  “Is old news. The guy hasn’t even called you. If he wanted you, then he would have come after you by now. You need to move on. We’re at one of the top events of the season, and there are sexy, rich men everywhere. Take your pick.”