Page 136 of Covert Mission
“Please, Lucas. I can’t stop now. I’ve come too far. I’m so close, I feel it, but if I don’t follow through on this, my dreams are all dead.”
Fuck. I want to put her on a plane and send her out of here. I don’t want her going undercover. I don’t want her sneaking around gathering intel. But I fucking get the fire inside her.
That’s what I see in her, on top of so many other things, but it’s the fire that makes my soul recognize hers.
That spells big trouble. I didn’t ask for this. Didn’t want it.
Against her hair, I murmur, “I get you. I love your determination.”
Her arms tighten around my waist in a determined hug. “Then you won’t stop me.”
I chuckle. Frustration makes me squeeze her back. “Damn you and your logic.”
She burrows deeper, and I don’t even care that there are restaurant patrons staring at us. “One condition.”
“Oh, brother. Here we go…”
I tilt her back, take her face in my hands, and kiss her lips. I restrain myself from diving my tongue in for a taste. When I pull back, her expression is filled with hope and tinted with confusion.
“I’m working your case with you.”
She blinks, her mouth opens. After a beat, she snaps it closed. “But what about your work?”
“I stepped down.”
After a shocked inhale, she pushes both her hands against my chest. “No! You can’t do that.”
“Done.”
Her brows pinch together. “Because of me?”
I kiss her forehead again. “Yes, but it was time.”
“What do you mean?”
I gently push her back toward her chair. “I can’t be effective if my head is not in the game.”
When I sit across from her, she looks worried. “But you’re good at your job. I can tell you like it.”
I sigh and lean back. “I do. But I can’t do that when I’m worried about you.”
The waitress arrives with two heaping plates of food. The delicious smell of lobster and shrimp and spices wraps around us. After she gives us a quick pitch about the dishes, the woman leaves.
I pick up my fork and motion toward Cami… Cameron.Damn, I have Camile wired in my brain.
“So, tell me about the name Camile.”
As she spreads the cloth napkin on her lap, she smiles. It’s the kind of smile that causes a hitch in my pulse. Sweet, innocent. A view into her inner world.
“It’s my undercover name. Kind of my alter-ego name. When I’m Camile, I feel powerful and invincible.”
“But not when you’re Cameron?”
She makes a face as she picks up a plump shrimp on her fork. “No. I was supposed to be a boy. That’s the name my father picked because of some guy on television. Anyway, I wasn’t named Cameron because I had hip parents who like gender neutral names. It was a reminder that I wasn’t the child he wanted.”
“I like them both. What do you want me to call you?”
Her expression falters. She blinks and looks past my shoulder for a beat, but then she focuses on me again. “Truthfully…I don’t care what you call me. I just like the way you see me.”