A bullet. Not just any bullet, though. He recognized the sleek and sharp ammunition his men stocked. Twisting it between his fingers, he could see a dark film coating it.

Blood. This was her blood.

His lone survivor, who had been the unnoticed backup, had told him they’d shot the woman. And she’d just pulled out the slug as though nothing had happened. He’d thought the man had been delirious.

She’d survived a powerful gunshot wound as if she’d never been hit. This was a new development. A very interesting and even more encouraging development.

Jeff smiled and squeezed his fist tight around the shell. The bitch was truly dangerous. He wanted her. Wanted her power. And he’d stop at nothing to get it.

Rome pulled into the potholed parking lot of a dingy motel. If it could even be called that. He’d been in worse places, but this spot was a dump. At least it was a surprisingly clean dump, miles from civilization.

Surrounded by leafy trees and a sprawling, overgrown hayfield, the ten-room, one-level motel was the perfect point in the middle of nowhere to hole up and spend some time going through the data that they hoped could answer a lot of their questions.

Harper was convinced it would. He trusted that she trusted her brother’s foresight, so he was also convinced the information would be valuable.

He’d dropped Harper off here with explicit instructions to stay put this time, then left to get some provisions. He’d had to drive for a while, finally finding a local all-night superstore, which thankfully had a little bit of everything, from clothing to groceries. There was no way they’d be staying at the motel for long, but they’d be there overnight for sure, given that midnight was fast approaching.

Rome felt a curious thrill while shopping for extra clothes for Harper. Her requests were simple, but actually picking out her cotton underwear seemed extremely intimate.

He’d never bought lingerie for any woman. He’d never understood the purpose of it. He wanted his partners naked, not clothed, even in just scraps. And he was very glad he’d never wasted any money on the superfluous garments.

All Harper wanted were a pair of jeans, a couple of T-shirts, and a hooded sweatshirt. Rome sighed as he hefted the plastic bags.

He’d never met a woman quite like Harper. She wasn’t apologetic or embarrassed when she rattled off the sizes of her clothes. She loved food. She was athletic, sported an honest tan from the outdoors, and was rightfully proud of her lean muscles. She was also extraordinarily intelligent.

And she wasn’t ashamed of any of it. The woman was completely confident and comfortable with herself.

Almost every other woman he’d encountered had always been on some kind of fad diet and would never in a million years have eaten a full-sized salad, let alone a whole sandwich.

Harper was the complete opposite.

Most of the women he’d dated back when he’d had time to date wore glitzy designer clothes. Any muscles were carefully sculpted for looks without much actual substance. His usual type was celebrity gorgeous, with long midnight dark hair, pale skin, and petite frames. He’d always thought their insecurity was appealing and liked the fact that they were just plain shallow-like a pill, glossy on the outside but acrid on the inside.

It kept things simple. It kept things neat and orderly. He couldn’t stand the drama of a relationship. His world of shadows, violence, and corruption had more than enough of it. So he didn’t need it in what little personal life he allowed himself.

And it had been a while. Almost two years since he’d lost himself in a woman. Which was just fine with him. His work fulfilled him like nothing else ever had. Even hockey. Besides, he didn’t want the complications of falling for anyone.

But he was falling for Harper. Hard. It was completely insane and a logistical nightmare, but he couldn’t deny it. She was everything he’d never thought he’d wanted, and something he should never have.

And when she’d said she loved him at the café, his heart had pounded so loud, he thought she must have heard it. Though he knew it was just a fleeting quip, involuntary sparks of joy had shot through his chest, warming his every fiber.

Harper was all wrong for him, yet he wanted her. Bad. For more than just a night. More than just however long this mission took. Knowing she didn’t fully trust him, he knew he needed to keep some distance.

Despite her apparent lack of trust, he was sure Harper wanted him, too. But for how long?

Stopping outside the thick wooden door to their motel room, he knocked on the door in the prearranged sequence that would assure Harper it was him. After a few seconds, the door opened a sliver and he saw a sea green eye, near his eye level, peer at him from above the jingling door chain. He gave her a smile. Then the door shut and he heard her fiddle with the chain.

And fiddle some more.

After several clatters, he heard a “for crying out loud” and something that sounded dangerously close to “gosh darn it.”

Something else about Harper that was undeniably enchanting. She never swore. At least, he’d never heard one bad word come from those luscious lips, and she certainly had many reasons to rattle off some doozies.

After a heavy thud and splintering crack, he distinctly heard the clinking of the chain and the door opened wide.

She greeted him with an innocent smile. He stepped over the threshold and pushed the door shut with his boot. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the chain slider had been pried off the back of the door and now dangled harmlessly, still attached to the chain.

He raised his eyebrow at her in question. Her smile grew bigger with a shrug of her broad shoulders.

“How goes it?” Rome chuckled at her resourcefulness and gestured to the laptop resting on the lone queen bed. He dumped the bags next to the computer on the golden-flowered comforter.

“There’s a lot of information there.” Harper’s voice sounded throaty and tired. He heard a slight squeak from the bed as she flopped down on it. “You were right.”

“About what?” he halted his rummaging through the bags for a moment, giving her his full attention after feeling, more than hearing, her weary tone.

“Bobby was a Five Watch scientist,” she said, rolling over to lie on her back. She crossed her hands over her flat stomach. Damn, she was hot. “He worked in a classified bioengineering division. Apparently, he’s not just a normal genius government scientist.”

“Okay, tell me about it,” he said as he resumed unpacking the bags, starting with the food he’d gotten at the grocery section of the store. He’d been surprised to find that the tiny room had a modest refrigerator. Even more surprised to find that it worked and was nearly spotless.

“I’m not through it all yet.” Harper sprawled at the head of the bed and repositioned the laptop in front of her. “But from what I can tell, Bobby was experimenting with plants, developing-well, actually, he did develop-a serum for them. A superserum of sorts.”

“The serum you have in your body,” Rome said, confirming more than questioning.

“I’m sure of it.”

“So it’s for plants,” he said as he bent over to put some cans of soda in the fridge. “What’s it supposed to do?”

“Augment and fortify global vegetation,” she answered with a heavy sigh. She moved over to lean on her side, just watching him, her gaze raking him.

“What does that mean?” he asked, emptying the food bag and riffling through the heap piled on the top of the comforter.

A couple of chocolate bars slid across the bed and hit her in the thighs. His gaze followed her hand as it reached near her crotch to grab one of the king-sized bars. A rush of heat flushed through him straight to his groin and he had to clear his throat. She tossed the long bar back onto his little pile of food.