Page 50 of Covert Operation

“Fuck.” I rake one hand through my hair again as I go for the elevator. After taking it down to the first floor, I duck through the sliding door leading outside. I need air.

And my ass kicked.

Since I doubt I can come up with a way to ethically achieve the latter, I dig out my phone and make the call I used as an excuse. Isaac picks up, apologizing the second the call connects.

“I’m sorry, man. I swear I thought you said one room, so that’s what I booked.” He genuinely sounds sorry, but it doesn’t fix my fucking problem. There’s no way I can share a room with Savannah. Not now.

Not if I want to keep things right between us.

“Find me another room. Make it happen. I don’t care what it takes.” I pace along the sidewalk, ignoring the odd looks I get from the people coming and going. “Have Heidi hack into their system and change someone’s reservation.”

“I mean,” he hesitates, “I can ask, but I’m not sure she’ll do it. Even if she does, it won’t change anything tonight. We have to wait until people check out of their rooms.”

I stop, letting my head fall back as I take a deep breath, trying to calm the panic and frustration crawling across my skin. “First thing tomorrow. Get her on it.” I disconnect the call because I don’t want to hear him tell me I’m fucked. That the chances of Heidi kicking some unsuspecting couple—or family—out of their room are slim to none. Which means I’m faced with multiple nights of Savannah sleeping beside me.

I struggle with sleep enough as it is. Having her right there will make it nearly impossible to rest. My only hope is to exhaust myself to the point I pass out.

And pray there aren’t any incidents.

The hotel has a gym—my usual drug of choice—but I left my bag in the room and the tactical pants and boots I’m wearing will make me even more conspicuous than normal. Without a coat, the chilly air is starting to sink into my skin, so I decide to kill two birds with one stone and I start to jog, cutting across the self-park lot to a less populated area.

Then I run like my life depends on it, plowing through the snow covered green space surrounding the hotel and adjoining shopping mall.

An hour later, I’m dripping with sweat and my body aches. I’m ready to drop when I quietly let myself into the room and let out a sigh of relief when I find the lights off and the soft sound of Savannah breathing as she sleeps.

I put every bit of my training to use as I collect a pair of sleep pants and creep into the bathroom where I quickly shower and brush my teeth. The room is still quiet when I sneak to the empty bed and slide beneath the covers.

Thankfully, my plan works and my head barely hits the pillow before sleep takes me under.

TWENTY-ONE

SAVANNAH

I DIDN’T MEAN to fall asleep. I intended to stay up and wait for Zeke to get back so we could talk about my little…

Mishap.

Yep, that’s exactly what it was. A mishap.

I was caught up in the emotion of the moment and had a lapse in judgment. An accidental slip.

One that freaked Zeke all the way out even though he might have also had a little mishap based on the way I ended up pressed against the railing. And thank goodness I did. If that hadn’t been holding me up, I might have melted into a puddle of lusty goo all over the balcony.

But then Zeke ran like the wind, leaving me behind. So I unpacked, took a shower, and laid down, ready to wait him out.

And then, in spite of the nap I took on the way here, I passed out cold, sleeping hard on the luxurious mattress beneath me.

Right up until a strange noise woke me up.

I hold my breath, thinking maybe I didn’t mess up my plan after all and Zeke is just now getting back from his panicked escape.

But no, I can make out the outline of his big body in the bed next to mine. When he shifts—the movement almost violent—I jerk upright, worried something’s going on and I’m still too naive to know we’re about to be attacked.

But then Zeke goes still again, the tempo of his steady breathing making it seem like he’s still asleep.

Shocking since the sound of my racing heart should be more than loud enough to wake the dead. I press a palm to the middle of my chest, hoping to calm it. Everything is fine. Zeke is here. I’m safe. He will never let anything happen to me?—

A soft noise stops my speeding heart right in its tracks. I recognize that sound. I’ve made it. Many times. Alone at night in my bed when the nightmares take hold of my sleeping mind. But this one doesn’t wake Zeke the way mine wake me, and the next sound he makes is even more awful. Filled with pain and suffering.