It wasn’t because she’d threatened her cousin with the possibility of a complete move and a relationship with two men known to give little mercy where the sensual pleasures they could give a woman were concerned.

It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d threatened to move in with one man, two, or a whole fucking unit. When the words slipped from her lips that she’d dare to allow another man to touch her, Doogan had existed on autopilot. Get to Zoey, take her, establish himself in the most intimate, the most instinctive way possible.

By marking her sensuality.

By owning it.

“Doogan?” The drowsiness in her tone was real, but he could feel what he had known was coming even before he’d touched her.

“Yeah, baby?” God, what had he done to both of them? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t lie to her.

“If I were really cold and called you, would you come keep me warm?” There was a note of amusement to her tone, as though it didn’t matter the answer. He knew the answer mattered, though.

“Every time,” he promised, knowing he would, knowing he’d be helpless against her need.

God, she’d slipped in when he hadn’t meant to let her in. Stole right past his determination to keep her out of his heart.

“Why did you wait so long to find me again, then?” She kept her head against his heart, and he wondered if she heard what was left of it break. “Why did you wait?”

He forced himself to swallow, forced himself to answer her.

“Because I was married.”

—

Zoey froze.

A chill washed through her. Where she’d been lazy and warm but a heartbeat before, she could now feel the icy fingers of fear invading her.

“Are you still married?”

“No, I’m not still married,” he assured her, his hand stroking down her shoulder. “And it takes more than a piece of paper to make a marriage, I believe.”

“Yeah, that’s what Dawg says.” Frowning, she tried to decipher the odd, dark note in his voice. “Did you divorce?”

“No. She died two years ago, the same day our daughter Katie was killed when she was struck by a car.”

That tone, it was pain. Regret. And Zoey sensed there was far more to it than the brief explanation.

“I’m very sorry, Doogan,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, just over his heart. “That’s a terrible loss.”

“Yes, it was.” Something in his voice had her heart breaking for him.

He’d lost the woman he loved and their child; where did that leave her where the future was concerned? The man she loved . . .

Dammit. She was in love with him.

That sucked.

His heart belonged to another woman, a dead woman. A woman who’d had his child, and that child was taken as well.

“Sleep, baby,” he whispered, stroking her shoulder once again. “I have a meeting in an hour or so. If you wake and I’m gone, I’ll be right back.”

Lifting her head, Zoey met his gaze, the somber, dark eyes watching her intently. “Super-spy stuff?” She arched her brows playfully, aching to take just a little of that too-serious, dark regret from his gaze.

“Super?” he snorted. “Not hardly. Boring, tedious follow-up. The life of a super-spy isn’t always guns blazing and cars racing.”

No kidding.

She was actually trained for guns blazing and cars racing and still hadn’t experienced it. The bad guys didn’t often get to Somerset.

Yawning and settling against him again, she curled into his warmth and let her eyes close. “Wake me when you get back. I have things to do.”

“Sleep, baby.” His lips brushed over her forehead.

As she closed her eyes, her last thought was the painful realization that Doogan had far more secrets than she’d ever imagined.

THIRTEEN

“I have the information you requested earlier.” Eli was angry. “Do you want company?”

Doogan nodded. “Wait in the truck till I get there. I have a few things to check before we head out. Text me the information and I’ll be down when I’ve finished.”

Eli nodded. Glancing to Zoey’s door, he gave a shake of his head before turning to leave the living area.

“Eli?”

The young agent turned back to him slowly. “Yeah?”

“Stay angry all you want, but the insubordination is going to begin causing problems soon,” Doogan warned him. “It’s time to let it go.”

“Let it go.” Eli stared at him bitterly. “You think it’s that easy?”

“I didn’t kill her, Eli. I didn’t frighten our daughter to the point that she ran out in front of that car nor did I put that bullet in Catalina’s head. And I didn’t ask her to lie to her family. She was your sister, and I’ve tried to be patient because you were a fine brother-in-law. But it’s going too far. Protecting Zoey is all I care about at this point, and I need to know I can trust you to do that. I’d hope your anger toward me won’t affect that.”

Catalina’s lies and deceit during his marriage to her had nearly destroyed him. He hadn’t given a damn. Katie had been all that mattered to him by then, and she’d known it. Because of it she’d tricked the brother that resented him and tried to steal the child Doogan had loved.

“Zoey’s my friend,” Eli stated simply, and Doogan heard the loyalty he felt toward her.

“Let’s find out what the hell’s going on here, fix it for her, and then we’ll deal with the past,” he suggested. “Until then, let’s see if we can get along and do this right.”

Sliding his thumbs into his front pockets, Eli stared back at him for long, silent moments before he gave a short, decisive nod.

“Understood.” Eli nodded. “I’ll text that information as soon as I get downstairs. I’ll suit up and wait for you.”

Within minutes Doogan had all the information he needed and had dressed in the protective black mission clothes such as the ones Eli would be wearing.

Thigh holster, weapon, and extra clips were secured in place as well as various other backup weapons. Grabbing the rifle, he laid it on the bed and pulled his phone from the secured pouch attached to the thigh of the pants opposite the holster.

Pulling up the earlier contact, he texted.

Have a meeting. Cover Zoey, he ordered the shadow that had stood watch earlier. He knew it was Harley. Hell, he was 100 percent positive it was Harley, and he’d kick the boy’s ass once he showed himself.

Don’t you ever sleep? He could only imagine the quarrelsome tone.

Now!

Bullshit.

Doogan sighed, shaking his head.

Not debatable. Leaving in 20. Will inform Natches of your refusal should she be harmed, he informed the other man.

Fuck you! Will inform Natches of your sleeping arrangements!

Zoey won’t like that! 18 and counting, Doogan texted.

Not your fucking backup. The reply came quickly.

17, Doogan counted.

Fucker! The insult only had Doogan shaking his head.

AWOL, he reminded the other man. 16.

Been in place, asshole. Know you!

That had been Doogan’s assumption all along.

Never did like your ass!

Doogan snorted at the last message, shoved his phone back into the pocket, collected his rifle, and left the guest room where he’d stood it. Retrieving the earbud he’d connected to the listening devices and tied into his sat phone, Doogan secured it in his ear and strode to the staircase leading to the garage at the back of the warehouse where Zoey kept her motorcycle hidden.

He had a meeting with Billy Ray. From what he’d heard during Zoey and Natches’s confrontation, the bastard had crossed a line Doogan would make damned sure wasn’t crossed again.

“We have a problem.” The agent Doogan rarely saw in Eli snapped into place with a suddenness Doogan hadn’t expected as he eased the truck, lights out, along the back alley leading to Ray’s Garage and Motorcycle Repair.