She never expected to see her old flame again. Or be kidnapped by him.

The wrong place at the wrong time—that’s the only way Sophia Reardon could explain her predicament. She wasn’t even an FBI field agent and now she was being taken hostage. By her ex-boyfriend Cameron Branson. The moment Sophia walked into his undercover operation, Cameron warned her that his “employers” would want to break her. So keeping her by his side, pretending not to have feelings for her, was the best way to maintain his role in the dangerous organization, and the only way to keep them both safe. Because if they got their hands on her, she could expose him and his secrets. And then they’d no longer have any reason to keep her around...

“You’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice said, but his words barely penetrated Sophia’s terrorised brain.

She was desperate to get his hand off her mouth. She allowed her knees to give way so all her body weight fell. He didn’t let go of her face, but he did let her hands go so he could grip her weight with his other arm.

Sophia reached up and grasped the hand covering her mouth with both of her hands—her need for air overwhelming all other thoughts.

“Are you trying to get us both killed?” the voice hissed.

Now there was no doubt in Sophia’s mind that the voice was familiar. She shook loose from the arm that held her and turned to face the source of the voice. When she saw him clearly she almost stumbled again.

Just as tall, dark and handsome as ever—a walking cliché. The man who had walked out of her life five years ago. Without one single word.

“Cameron?”

Infiltration

Janie Crouch

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JANIE CROUCH has loved to read romance her whole life. She cut her teeth on Mills & Boon® romances as a preteen, then moved on to a passion for romantic suspense as an adult.

Janie lives with her husband and four children in Virginia, where she teaches communication courses at a local college. Janie enjoys traveling, long-distance running, movie-watching, knitting and adventure/obstacle racing. You can find out more about her at www.janiecrouch.com.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

Cameron Branson—Omega Sector agent on a deep undercover mission with crime syndicate group DS-13. Wants justice for his partner who was murdered by them, and will let nothing get in his way.

Sophia Reardon—A graphic artist for the FBI, not interested in any sort of clandestine operations. She’s got enough problems of her own, just getting through day by day.

Mr. Smith—The elusive leader of DS-13, responsible for Cameron’s partner’s death. Cameron’s ultimate goal is to meet and arrest him, but that has proved more difficult than Cameron imagined.

Fin—Member of DS-13 and Cameron’s link to meeting Mr. Smith.

Rick—Another member of DS-13. Enjoys cruelty.

Fred McNeil—FBI agent on DS-13’s payroll.

Dylan Branson—Cameron’s strong and quiet older brother. Past operative for Omega Sector, now runs a small delivery/courier business with his own airplane.

Sawyer Branson—Cameron’s charming younger brother. Current agent Omega Sector.

Dennis Burgamy—Cameron’s boss at Omega Sector.

To my sweet coz, the real “Sophia.”

Thanks for providing the strength, charm and beauty to model a character after (although the rest is sheer drama and not you, I promise).

I am thankful beyond measure to have you in my life—a cousin by birth, a sister in every other way. 143, FC1!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Cast of Characters

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Cameron Branson had been telling the lies so long he was afraid they were becoming truth to him.

“Look, Tom, I don’t have a lot of time,” Cameron barked quietly into his cell phone as he sat on a bench and looked out at Washington, DC’s Potomac River. Joggers ran by in front of him and a mother chased a squealing toddler, but Cameron paid them no mind.

He especially paid no attention to the man sitting on the other side of the bench next to him who was also on his cell phone while glancing at a newspaper.

Except neither man was actually talking on his cell phone. They were talking to each other.

“Protocol dictates that we meet twice a week unless circumstances prove it impossible,” Cameron was reminded by “Tom.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have a whole lot of concern about protocol right at this moment. What I care about is bringing down the SOB who killed Jason.”

Tom sighed and turned the page on his newspaper, without ever looking at Cameron. “You’ve been under a long time, Cam. And you missed our last two scheduled meetings. I can only cover for you so much before higher-ups start noticing.”

“Well, it’s not always easy getting away from the bad guys so we can have our chats,” Cameron all but sneered. He knew his anger at Tom was misplaced, but couldn’t seem to keep his irritation under control. He just wanted to get back to work.

“Everybody knows your undercover work in DS-13 is critical for us and for you personally. But it’s important for us to do things by the book.”

Cameron sighed but didn’t say what was on his mind: doing things by the book was probably what had gotten Cameron’s previous partner killed.

“All right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.” Cameron almost believed it as he said it.

“Is everything still on for tomorrow’s buy?”

“Yeah. It should go without a hiccup. Just make sure the warehouse stays clear.”

“Cameron, I needed to meet with you about something else.” Tom closed his newspaper and then reopened it. He seemed to be hesitating. Cameron knew this was bad. He’d never known his handler to be at a loss for words. “The parameters of your mission have changed.”

Damn. “How so?”

“Taking the members and leader of DS-13 into custody is no longer your primary objective. For neither their black market activities nor their presumed part in your partner’s death.”

“Dammit, Tom...”

“I know, Cameron. But recent intel notified us that DS-13 has obtained new encoding-transmitting technologies that they’ll be selling to terrorists.”

Cameron sighed and waited for Tom to continue.

“It’s called Ghost Shell. This technology is like nothing we’ve ever seen—it could cripple communication within government agencies. It would give multiple terrorist groups the edge they’ve been looking for, and open us up to attacks all over the country. It’s critical that this technology doesn’t make it to the black market.”

“Why isn’t the cyberterrorism unit on this?” Cameron murmured with a sigh.

“It’s beyond cyberterrorism now. Straight into terrorism. Besides, it’s already out in the open. And since you’re already neck-deep in DS-13...”

Cameron just shook his head. He knew what Tom said was true. Technology like this in DS-13’s hands—the group was solely focused on financial gain—was bad, but in the hands of terrorist groups who were intent on destruction and loss of life, it would mean disaster.

“Roger that, Tom. Change of primary objective confirmed. I’ll be in touch when I know something.” Cameron got up from the bench and walked away. Tom stayed, as Cameron knew he would, pretending to talk on his cell phone a while longer as he looked at the paper.

Yeah, Cameron’s primary objective had changed. But he’d be damned if he’d let justice for his partner’s memory suffer because of it.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, sitting in the back of the extended SUV with windows tinted just a bit darker than what was probably legal, Cam Cameron, as he was known to DS-13, pretended to chuckle at a filthy joke told by one of the other riders. When a second rider chimed in with another joke—something about a blonde, a redhead and a brunette—Cameron just tuned them out. He stretched his long legs out in front of him. At least there was room to do that in this vehicle.

One thing he had to give DS-13: they may be an organized crime ring with ties to almost every criminal activity imaginable—weapons, drugs, human trafficking, to name a few—but they knew how to travel in style.

Cameron had been undercover with them for eight months. Eight months pretending to be a midlevel weapons dealer. Eight months of trying to move up in the ranks of DS-13, so he could meet the boss.

The man who had ordered the execution of Cameron’s partner over a year ago.

Cameron had made very little progress in the meeting-the-boss area of his work. Instead he’d been stuck with lower-level minions, who evidently thought a punch line about high heels and a sugar daddy downright hilarious, given the guffawing coming from all corners of the vehicle. Cameron chuckled again, just so it wouldn’t be obvious that he wasn’t laughing.

Blending in was key. Cameron’s looks—black hair just a little too long, dark brown eyes, a perpetual five o’clock shadow—made him particularly suited for blending in with bad guys. Cameron had specifically cultivated the dark and unapproachable look. His six-foot frame was muscular—made even more so over the past few months since a favorite activity of the DS-13 minions was lifting weights—and he was light on his feet.

All in all, Cameron knew he came across as someone not to be messed with. Someone who could take care of himself. Someone menacing. It had helped him in undercover work for years, this ability to blend in physically.

The problem was, he felt his soul starting to blend in, too.

“Cam, don’t you know any good jokes, man?” the driver called back to Cameron.

The best joke I know will be on you guys when I arrest all you bastards.

“No, Fin. I don’t know any jokes. I can’t be this beautiful, able to outlift all you princesses and be able to tell jokes. Wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the world.” Cameron smirked.

This led to an immediate argument over which of the four people in the SUV could bench the most weight, as Cameron knew it would.

Cameron was tired. He was tired of the lies, tired of keeping one step ahead of everyone else, tired of spending every day with these morons. And yesterday’s meeting with Tom had confirmed what Cameron had already known: he wasn’t checking in with his handler at Omega Sector as often as he should.

But since Cameron worked for Omega—an elite interagency task force—there was a little more leeway about check-ins and staying undercover longer. Omega agents had more training, more experience and the distinct mental acuity needed for long-term undercover work, or they never were sent out in the first place.

They were the best of the best.

God, it sounded so Top Gun. And Cameron certainly didn’t feel best of anything right now.

“Two-ninety clean and jerk, two-seventy bench,” Cameron responded to one of the guys asking about his top weight-lifting ability.

A round of obscenities flew through the vehicle. Nobody believed him.

“I’ll take any of you pansies on, at any time.” Cameron looked down at his fingernails in boredom. “But you better call your mommies first.”

Another round of obscenities about what they would do to his mother, then arguments resumed about lifting, leg weights this time. Cameron zoned out again.

Cameron had promised Tom he would check in with the handler more often. He wasn’t particularly worried about what Tom or the agency would do if he didn’t. But he was worried his brothers, one older, one younger, both with ties to Omega Sector, might decide to storm the castle if they thought Cameron was in trouble. Not to mention his sister.

He wasn’t in trouble, at least not the type that required help from his siblings.

He knew he was starting to make some progress in the case; there were talks of taking Cameron to the DS-13 main base, wherever that was. That’s what Cameron wanted. That’s where he would meet the man who ordered his partner’s death. And as soon as Cameron could link him with that or any other felony, that bastard was going down.

Oh, yeah, and Cameron would recover Ghost Shell, as ordered.

Cameron didn’t take the orders about the technology acquirement lightly. He would get it. But he would bring down the bad guys while he was at it.

And then Cameron could get out of undercover work for a while and try to find himself. Get away from lies and filth for an extended period. Try to remember why he started this job in the first place.

As the SUV pulled up to an abandoned warehouse in a suburb far outside of Washington, Cameron got his head back in the game. No point whining about how hard this job was; he’d known that for a while now. Five years to be exact. Cameron immediately pushed that thought out of his head. This wasn’t the time or place to think about her. Or any of the disasters that had happened since.

Opening his car door, Cameron stepped out. “All right, ladies, everything should be in the back office, upstairs. Use the east entrance since it’s least visible.”

The driver, Fin, was the leader of the group. Cameron walked around the car to him. “How do you want to set up security, Fin?” Cameron knew it was important to make Fin feel as if he was in charge.

“Yeah, let’s leave someone at the back door outside and someone walking around inside, just in case.”

Cameron nodded. “Great.” He knew there would be no raids by authorities or attacks by a rival organization—thanks to Omega Sector—but nobody else knew it. As a matter of fact, nobody but them should be around this area at all. “You’re coming in with me, right? So we can get it all counted and tested?”

Cameron was the one who had set up this sale, in an attempt to prove his usefulness, again, to DS-13. The men inside the warehouse—bad guys in their own right—were business associates of Cameron’s. They were going to buy the weapons, ones Cameron had gotten for DS-13 at a hugely reduced price, thanks to them actually coming from the Omega Sector armory. All in all, DS-13 would make a nice little profit for very little work. Cameron would come out looking like the golden boy and would hopefully be one step closer to meeting the man in charge.

Nobody in DS-13 would ever know that the scumbags buying the weapons would be picked up by local law enforcement a few miles down the road after leaving here. The weapons would go back into government lockdown.

Fin barked orders to the rest of the men then walked with Cameron up the outdoor stairs to the second floor of the building. Inside was an office that looked down on the expanse of the warehouse, except seeing through the windows was nearly impossible due to years of cleaning neglect.

Cameron introduced the buyers to Fin and then stepped aside to let Fin talk to them so the guy could feel as if he was in charge. Cameron walked over to stand by a window that looked out onto the road. He rubbed a tiny bit of the filthy pane with his finger so he could see out, all the while keeping his ear on the conversation between the buyers and Fin, making sure Fin didn’t screw things up.

Looking out his tiny hole, Cameron noticed a car moving slowly from the warehouse next door toward them. He cursed silently. Nobody was supposed to be in this area at all except for them. Omega Sector should’ve seen to that.

When the car got out of his line of sight from that window, Cameron casually moved to another window. He leaned back against the wall for a few moments before turning nonchalantly to the window and once again creating a little peephole in the dirt. Cameron was careful not to make it look as if he was studying anything. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to that car.

Sure enough the vehicle stopped right in front of the warehouse. Cameron cursed under his breath again. He hoped Marco, the man Fin had left as guard, didn’t see the car. Maybe he wouldn’t. The minions tended to be a little slack when Fin wasn’t watching. Marco may be out smoking by the SUV or something. Cameron desperately hoped so. The last thing he needed was some civilian caught up in this mess.

“Isn’t that right, Cam?” Fin called out to Cameron.

Cameron racked his brain trying to figure out what they were talking about. He needed to be paying more attention to this sale. Cameron wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want to let on that he hadn’t been listening to the conversation when he was the one who had set the whole thing up in the first place. Cameron decided to take a chance.

“If you say it, then it must be true, Fin.”

Both the buyers and Fin burst out laughing, so Cameron figured he had said the right thing. He watched as Fin began showing the weapons to the buyers.

When he turned to the window again, the driver had gotten out of the car. He couldn’t see much, but it looked as if it was a lone woman.

Damn.

Cameron knew he had to get down there and try to divert disaster before it hit full force.

“Fin, I’ve got to take a leak. I’m sure there’s a can downstairs somewhere. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Fin and the buyers barely looked up from their exchange. Fin shooed in Cameron’s general direction with his hand. Normally this lack of regard would’ve irritated Cameron, but now he was thankful for it. He headed out the door leading into the main section of the warehouse.

He hoped whoever was in the car was just some poor idiot who had gotten lost and would soon be on her way.

* * *

SOPHIA REARDON WAS lost and felt like some poor idiot. She rolled her window down farther and took a few deep breaths of air, trying to refocus.

Was this warehouse really the place? All of them looked the same. If she could read her own handwriting that would help. Of course, if people would do their jobs correctly in the first place she wouldn’t have to be here at the corner of Serial-Killers-R-Us Street and Shouldn’t-Be-Here-Alone Avenue.

Sophia looked down at the napkin where she’d scribbled the address. Yeah, that was definitely an 8 not a 3. Which meant it was this warehouse she was supposed to be at, not the just-as-scary first one she’d gone to.

All Sophia needed were a few pictures of the interior ceiling frame and doorway of the warehouse to help finish a computer rendering of the building. This warehouse was identical to one that had burned down in an arson case two weeks ago—the work of a serial arsonist who had hit buildings in four different states. The FBI had been called in to help local law enforcement.

Sophia muttered under her breath again as she grabbed her camera gear and purse. She put her FBI credentials in her pocket, in case some poor security guard needed to see them. She pushed open the door to the warehouse and walked in slowly, giving her eyes time to adjust. She cursed her office mate, Bruce, who had begged Sophia to take these pictures.

“‘The new girl at the coffee shop said yes to lunch, Sophia,’” Sophia said in her best mimicry of Bruce’s voice. “‘But today’s our only chance this week. Please, please, please go take pictures at the horror-film warehouse for me. I’m worth getting mutilated for.’”

Sophia sighed. Bruce owed her. Big-time. Sophia hated this cloak-and-dagger stuff.

Sure, she worked for the FBI, but would be the first to tell you she wasn’t an agent. She didn’t even do CSI stuff usually, although she was part of the forensic team. She was a graphic designer, for goodness’ sake. She designed brochures and fliers and posters. Safe in the comfort of her office in DC, not in some warehouse in Scaryville.

As the door closed behind her, Sophia took a deep breath and reminded herself there was plenty of air in this building and nothing to be afraid of. She was not trapped back in that car like during the accident five years ago. Sophia went through a couple of the mental exercises Dr. Fretwell had taught her to get her brief moment of panic under control. Once it had passed she grabbed her camera and began getting the shots she needed.

The doorway posed no problems so she got those first. But the beams in the ceiling area were going to be more difficult to film. Looking around she realized the office in the back would give her much better access to the shots she needed of the ceiling framing.

Sophia cautiously made her way back to the steps leading up to the office. It didn’t look as if there were any serial killers or cyborgs living here, but the place still gave her the creeps. Wooden crates and boxes were piled all along the stairs and landing, making getting up them precarious. Sophia kept a firm grip on the railing for as long as she could until she had to let go to step around a huge crate.

As she began climbing the second set of steps, Sophia caught something moving out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see what it was just as an arm reached out from behind her and covered her mouth, pulling her up against a hard chest and silencing her startled scream.

A deep voice breathed quietly in her ear, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Chapter Two

Sophia was shocked into complete stillness for a moment then burst into a flurry of action. She elbowed the abs behind her and swung her legs backward at his shins. Although she heard a couple of grunts, the hand over her mouth didn’t move.

Terror completely overwhelmed her. The hand was cutting off her air and she couldn’t breathe. Panic made her blows even more frantic and she heard more grunts, but he still didn’t release her. She reached back and tried to scratch his face, but he caught both her wrists with his free hand before she could do any damage. He pulled her closer to his chest so her kicks couldn’t do any harm, either.

“You’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice said, but his words barely penetrated Sophia’s terrorized brain.

She was desperate to get his hand off her mouth. She allowed her knees to give way so all her body weight fell. He didn’t let go of her face, but he did let her hands go so he could grip her weight with his other arm.

Sophia reached up and grasped the hand covering her mouth with both of her hands, her need for air overwhelming all other thoughts. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Dr. Fretwell reminding her that there was plenty of oxygen, that there was always plenty of oxygen, but she couldn’t make herself believe it.

“Listen, I don’t want to hurt you,” the voice said again in little more than a whisper in her ear. “But I need you to calm down.”

Sophia didn’t believe his assurances for her safety for a second, but her only thought was to get the hand from around her mouth. It took all of her mental energy, but she forced herself to stop struggling.

“Good.” The hand over her mouth eased just the slightest bit. “I’m going to let you go, but if you scream we’re going to be right back in this position. Got it?”

Sophia nodded. The hand moved very slowly from her mouth, as if he was gauging whether she would keep her word not to scream. It hovered there, ready to reclamp over her mouth at the slightest noise from her. Sophia gulped air and struggled to get a hold of herself.

She wasn’t going to scream. She knew there wasn’t anybody around the warehouse close enough to hear it. Plus, she definitely didn’t want that hand—or worse, a gag—over her mouth, cutting off her supply of oxygen. Well, not cutting off the actual supply of oxygen, but making her brain think she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

Damn claustrophobia. The last thing she needed was to become a sobbing nutcase on the floor because some creep gagged her. She needed to keep her wits about her and figure out how to get away from the big chest still standing right behind her.

Whatever trouble she was in here, she was going to have to get herself out. Because screaming wasn’t going to help.

“Are you okay?” the voice asked, the mystery man still standing directly behind her, hand still hovering near her mouth.

“Yes. Look, I was just here to take some pictures of the door and ceiling.” She was breathing so hard she could barely get the words out, so Sophia lifted her camera to the side so he could see it. “Whatever you’re doing here, I don’t know anything about it and I don’t care.”

There was no response from the man behind her. Sophia didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“I haven’t seen you. I have no idea what you look like. I’ll just leave. There’s no cell phone coverage out here, so it’s not like I can call anyone or anything.” Sophia didn’t know if that was true or not. She had forgotten to charge her phone again last night, so it was sitting dead out in her car. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

She realized she was rambling, but the longer he was silent, the more she was afraid he was going to do something terrible to her, like kill her.

Or cover her mouth with his hand again.

“I’m just going to go, okay?” Sophia took a small step away from him. “I’m not going to look at you and I’m just going to go.”

The arm in front of her dropped. When he didn’t stop her, Sophia took another step. Then another.

“Just get in your car and leave immediately. Don’t let anybody else see you or believe me, the trouble will be much worse.”

Now that the voice wasn’t whispering, it sounded vaguely familiar. As Sophia took another step away she turned to look at the man behind her before she could stop herself.

But before she could get a good look at him she tripped over one of the boxes lining the stairs. She grasped for the railing but couldn’t reach it.

Just as she began to plummet down the stairs an arm reached out and grabbed her around her hips, sweeping her easily off her feet and yanking her back against him.

“Are you trying to get us both killed?” the voice hissed.

Now there was no doubt in Sophia’s mind that the voice was familiar. She shook loose from the arm that held her and turned to face the voice. When she saw him clearly she almost stumbled again.

Just as tall, dark and handsome as ever—a walking cliché. The man who had walked out of her life five years ago. Without one single word.

“Cameron?”

Sophia watched as shock stole over Cameron’s face. He was obviously as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

“Sophia? What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking pictures for a friend, for an arson investigation.”

“An arson investigation? Are you law enforcement?”

Sophia shook her head. “No. Not really. I mean kind of, but no.”

Cameron stared back at her in confusion and Sophia realized she wasn’t making any sense.

“I work for the FBI, but I’m not an agent. I’m a graphic artist.”

“You work for the Bureau? You’re here for them?”

Cameron seemed overly shocked at her mention of the FBI. Sophia shook her head again. “Well, yes and no. I wasn’t supposed to be here at all, but I’m helping a friend out by getting some pictures he wasn’t able to get.”

“Is anybody else from the Bureau coming?”

Sophia didn’t understand why Cameron was asking her this, but the only thing she could think of—the only thing that really made sense about any of his behavior here—was that he was some sort of criminal now and she had walked in on something illegal.

Sophia would never have thought Cameron Branson capable of a criminal lifestyle when she had known him before. He’d just gotten out of the military and had more of a love for his family than anyone she’d ever known. He definitely had not been any sort of delinquent then. Trying to figure out where he belonged, sure. But not a criminal.

But she guessed a lot of stuff could happen in five years that changed a person. Case in point, the man standing in front of her whom she both recognized and didn’t recognize.

Sophia took a step back from him. His hand, which had still been at her waist, dropped to his side.

“No, I’m not officially here for the Bureau. Nobody else is coming,” Sophia told him.

Cameron seemed to relax a little at that admission, which just confirmed Sophia’s suspicion about his criminal activities. Who else relaxed at the thought of the FBI not coming?

Sophia looked more closely at Cameron. His hair was much longer than the nearly crew-cut length he used to keep—it curled now at the top of his black T-shirt. His posture was less erect, more casual. His eyes...

Well, his eyes were still the most gorgeous shade of brown she had ever seen.

She’d nearly fallen in love with those eyes once, back when she was too young and stupid to know better. Back when she thought he was a stand-up guy who was interested in her and perhaps wanted a future together.

But she had grown up and left those dreams behind. He hadn’t given her much choice, when he’d left without a goodbye and without a single word in the five years since.

So whoever this man standing in front of her was—despite his gorgeous eyes—she needed to get away from him.

For more reasons than one.

* * *

CAMERON FELT AS IF he was having an out-of-body experience as the tiny brunette who had been clawing at his face moments before transformed from a stranger into Sophia Reardon.

This was not possible.

Seriously? Of all the warehouses in all the world, she had to be in this one? And moreover, somebody from Omega should’ve had the roads leading down to this area blocked so nobody who wasn’t supposed to be here—for example, a cute brunette with a camera—got through. Somebody was going to catch a load of trouble for this, Cameron would make sure.

But right now he had to get Sophia out of here before somebody from DS-13 saw her.

But man, she looked good. Cameron gave himself just a second to really look at her. He hadn’t seen her in five years. She’d been twenty-two years old then, but she didn’t seem to have changed much. Her straight brown hair was a little longer, now past her shoulders, but the natural blond highlights were still there. Through the dimness of the warehouse’s lights he could barely make out the freckles that still scattered across her cheeks and nose. And her stunning green eyes.

Eyes that were glaring up at him right now. He took a step toward her but she backed up. “I’m not going to hurt you, Soph.”

She stopped moving. “I know. I just... I’m pretty claustrophobic. I don’t want you to cover my mouth again.”

Cameron nodded. “Okay, no problem.”

“Why are you here, Cameron?” she asked with a great deal of suspicion in her tone.

Cameron couldn’t blame her for the unease, given the current situation. “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to explain.”

She jerked away from him. “Yeah. Explanations aren’t your strong suit. I remember.”

Cameron winced. He reached for her again, but then let his hand fall to the side. Sophia had every right to be angry at him about how things had ended between them five years ago, even though he had never meant to hurt her. Cutting casual ties had just been part of the life he’d chosen when he took the job with Omega Sector.

Of course, the fact that he had thought about her every day since he’d walked away from her had proven to Cameron that Sophia had been more than a casual tie. Now, with quite a bit more perspective, he realized he should’ve given her more information and a proper goodbye.

Unfortunately, it looked as if he was about to make the same mistakes all over again: no information and no proper goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Sophia. But you have to leave. Quickly.”

“And what? You’ll explain later? We both know that’s not true.”

Cameron knew there was no real response he could give. They both did know it was true.

“Besides, I’m not sure I want to know,” Sophia continued softly.

Cameron wished he could explain, at least about what was happening right now—about being undercover—but time was running out. He needed to get Sophia out of here immediately. Every moment she stayed there was more of a risk of her being seen by a member of DS-13.

“Sophia...”

She shook her head and continued before he could say anything further, reaching a hand out toward him. “Don’t worry, I’m going. Whatever you’re doing here, Cameron, I don’t want to know. But you be careful.” She drew her hand back to her side without actually touching him.

Cameron couldn’t stand the look in her eyes. She thought he was a criminal. He wished he could explain. Before she could turn away, Cameron leaned down and put his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Soph. Again.” Cameron stepped back from her. “Go as fast and as quietly as you can. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Cameron watched as Sophia turned and carefully manipulated her way down the stairs through all the boxes. He didn’t stay to watch her go the rest of the way out. He turned and made his way back to the office.

“Get lost?” Fin snickered as Cameron walked back in.

Cam just snorted. Fin looked at him a little closer. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve been in a wrestling match.”

Damn it. He had practically been in a wrestling match.

“Stupid boxes everywhere. It’s like an obstacle course down there. I tripped.” Cameron brushed his hair back into place.

That got a few chuckles. Nobody seemed suspicious, which was good. “How’s it going here?” Cameron asked.

Fin was taking his time showing off to the buyers what he knew about the assault rifles being sold. Fin liked to show off whenever he knew anything about anything, and oftentimes even when he didn’t, but Cameron just let him ramble on. If the buyers didn’t know when and if Fin was full of crap then it was their own fault. They’d be sitting in a jail cell in a few hours anyway.

“Why don’t you start counting the money, Cam?” Fin told him. Cameron barely bit back a groan of frustration. What he really wanted to do was get over to the window and make sure Sophia’s car was gone. But the money was on the other side of the office.

“Sure.” Cameron met one of the buyers over at the desk and pulled out a small cash-counting machine from the bag they’d brought. The machine would make things a lot faster, but not fast enough. He wanted to know—needed to know—that Sophia had made it safely out of the building. He fed the cash into the machine as quickly as he could without making it obvious that he was in a hurry. The second buyer watched him carefully the entire time.

After double-checking, because he knew Fin would ask, Cameron put the counter away.

“All here, Fin.”

“Did you double-check?”

Cameron refrained from rolling his eyes. “Yes.” He walked over and placed the bag of money on the table by Fin, then strolled as casually as possible over to the window.

No car. Thank God.

Cameron felt himself relax for the first time since he realized that the tiny brunette who had just been trying to fight her way out of his arms was Sophia. The thought of sweet Sophia being caught in the middle of this made Cameron a little sick to his stomach.

Maybe seeing her today was some sort of sign to him. Further proof he needed to finish up this case and take a break. Maybe he would call Sophia, try to repair the damage from five years ago. Explain to her his reasons for leaving.

And tell her that he had never stopped thinking about her.

But right now he had to concentrate on the case at hand. Fin was finally winding down his spiel about the assault rifles, quite a bit of it incorrect information, the buyers had the weapons they wanted and DS-13 had the cash.

Cameron could tell Fin was pleased. As the buyers left, he walked over to Cameron and slapped him on his back.

“Good job, man. Very smooth transaction.”

“As always, Fin. That’s what I do.”

Cameron wanted to demand to meet Fin’s boss, but knew that any request on his part to meet the man would push him that much further away from a meeting. He had been patient up until now. He could be patient awhile longer. Although with the Ghost Shell encoding technology becoming Cameron’s prime mission objective, he couldn’t be patient much longer.

Fin nodded. “It is what you do, Cam. And Mr. Smith, my...um...boss, has become well aware of that.”

Cameron straightened, his interest piqued. He doubted Mr. Smith was the boss’s real name, but this was the first time Fin had ever openly talked about him directly to Cameron. Finally, the slightest progress.

“Well, I’d like to meet Mr. Smith someday.”

Fin slapped him on the back again. “And you will, buddy. Soon, in fact. Mr. Smith may need your help in setting up some meetings for some new stuff.”

Cameron hoped that by new stuff Fin meant the Ghost Shell technology. Fin didn’t have an expansive vocabulary, unless it came to dirty jokes.

“But now, let’s get back to the house so we can see that weight lifting you were talking so much trash about on the way here.”

Cameron followed Fin down the stairs. Two of the other three minions were already at the car. The third, Marco—the one sent to patrol the inside of the warehouse—wasn’t there.

Dread pooled in Cameron’s stomach.

“Where the hell is Marco?” Fin demanded of the other two. Neither knew.

“He’s probably in there smoking or on the can. I’ll go find him,” Cameron offered. He had a bad feeling.

“Fine.” Fin shooed Cameron annoyingly with his hand again. But again Cameron didn’t care. “Hurry up.”

Cameron made it to the warehouse door, just as it opened. Through it came Marco, dragging a terrified Sophia behind him.

Chapter Three

Cameron knew he had to think fast. A single word from Sophia, any sort of gesture that she knew him, would mean both their lives. In a split second, Cameron made a decision.

But he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

He stormed up to Marco and grabbed Sophia out of his grasp. “What the hell, Marco? Is this a cop?”

Cameron pushed Sophia, probably a little rougher than necessary, face-first up against the warehouse wall. He heard her indrawn breath, but steeled himself against any thought of her pain or fear.

It was going to get much worse.

Cameron kept his hand pressed against Sophia’s back, keeping her forced against the wall. Behind him he heard Fin and the other guys draw their weapons.

He willed Sophia to keep quiet.

Marco, a little shocked by Cameron’s aggressive behavior, stuttered, “I just found her inside. She said she was an artist and was taking pictures of the warehouse.”

“Did you check to see if she was wearing a wire or anything?” Cameron demanded.

Marco looked sheepish and shook his head. Cameron made a big show of running his hands all over Sophia’s body, as if looking for surveillance equipment. Behind him the guys made a couple of catcalls. Sophia shuddered.

When his body search led to her hands, he could feel Sophia press some sort of card into his palm—he wasn’t sure what. He moved so he more clearly blocked her from Fin and the men’s view, and palmed whatever she had given him without looking at it. As he turned, he slipped it into the pocket of his jeans.

“She’s clean,” Cameron said as he spun her around. Sophia attempted to straighten the clothes Cameron had lifted and moved during his search, her face burning.

“Listen...” Sophia began.

Cameron backhanded her.

Oh, God. He pulled the slap as much as he could without making it obvious, but he knew it still had to hurt. Her head flew to the side. He watched as a bit of blood began to ooze from a split in her lip. Cameron thought he might vomit.

But if she had said his name, they would both be dead, or at the very least his undercover work would be blown. He couldn’t take the chance.

He stuck his finger in her face. “You shut the hell up unless I ask you a specific question, got it?”

Cameron prayed as he had never prayed before that Sophia would keep quiet. He felt a bit of relief when she nodded slowly, staring at the ground.

“Whoa, Cam. I didn’t think you had that in you.” Fin chuckled.

Cameron smiled a little bit and rolled his shoulders as if he was getting rid of tension. “Yeah. Well, I hate cops. But it doesn’t look like she is one.”

Cameron took Sophia’s digital camera and brought it over to Fin. Together they looked through the pictures. Cameron relaxed a little when they were all shots of the doorway of the warehouse.

“What are you, a photographer?” Cameron asked her. He hoped she wouldn’t bring up the Bureau.

“Yeah. A graphic artist.” The answer came out as little more than a whisper from Sophia. She was still looking at the ground.

“What were you doing here?” Fin asked.

“Taking pictures for a computer drawing I’m doing of old warehouses.”

Cameron breathed another sigh of relief when she didn’t mention law enforcement. Good girl; smart thinking.

Cameron walked back over to her. “Did you know we’d be here?”

Sophia shook her head, staring at the ground. Cameron grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him—more theatrics for Fin and the guys’ benefit, but Sophia was paying the price. “You had no idea we were here?”

“No,” Sophia spat out. “I thought all these buildings were abandoned. I just needed some pictures.” She was glaring at him, but Cameron could see the terror lurking just behind the anger.

“Yeah, I’m all for woman’s lib, but I guess nobody would be stupid enough to send one tiny female with no backup or weapons to arrest all of us.” Cameron leered at her. “No offense, sweetheart.”

“Marco, did you find any ID on her?” Fin asked.

“Her purse was in her car, which was sitting out front. I moved the car inside the building just in case someone else drove by,” Marco informed them.

Well, that answered the question about why Sophia’s car hadn’t been out front when Cameron had looked the second time.

Marco brought the purse to Fin. Fin glanced inside the bag, evidently finding nothing of interest, pulled out her wallet and let the purse fall to the ground. Fin took her driver’s license out.

“Sophia Reardon. Twenty-seven years old. Alexandria address.” Fin looked through the rest of her wallet. Cameron held his breath, knowing Sophia must have some sort of FBI identification, even if she wasn’t an agent. But Fin didn’t say anything, just dropped her wallet into the purse on the ground.

Cameron thought of the card Sophia had slipped to him when he was searching her. Feigning as if he was looking around, Cameron slipped the card out of his pocket and glanced at it. Sure enough, Sophia’s FBI credentials.

A smart and gutsy move on her part—one that had just saved her life. If Fin had seen FBI anywhere on her or in her possessions, they wouldn’t have cared if she was just a graphic artist and not an agent. As far as they were concerned, anybody employed by the Bureau was their enemy.

Cameron caught Sophia’s eye. He patted his pocket and gave her a slight nod. He had no idea if she understood what he was communicating, but she had done a good job.

Cameron walked over to Fin and leaned back against the SUV, knowing he had to play it casual. “So what do we do with her?”

Fin didn’t answer immediately. That wasn’t encouraging.

The hardest part of undercover work—especially in a situation like this—was figuring out how far you could take your bluff. Pull out of the game too soon and lose eight months of undercover work with only a couple of low-level arrests. But play the game too long and take a chance of somebody calling your bluff...

Which in this case would end in Sophia’s death before Cameron could stop it.

And this situation was all the more complicated due to this new damn Ghost Shell technology DS-13 had. If Cameron blew his cover now, Omega would be hard-pressed to acquire that technology before it went on the black market. That could result in the loss of thousands of lives.

But Cameron wasn’t going to let Sophia die. Not here. Not today. He was leaning very casually against the SUV, but he had slipped the safety off on his weapon, although it remained concealed under his shirt.

But just like Cameron, everyone here had a weapon. If this came down to a firefight, the odds were definitely not in his favor.

“Let’s just let her go, Fin,” Marco said. “Smash the camera, break her phone, slash her tires so she can’t get anywhere. By the time she walks to the nearest phone, we’ll be long gone.”

Cameron could’ve hugged the big lug. That was exactly the suggestion he had wanted to make, but couldn’t.

Fin looked over at Cameron, but Cameron just shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him a bit what happened to Sophia.

“No,” Fin finally said. “No loose ends. Kill her.”

Cameron heard Sophia’s indrawn breath and he looked over at her. Full-blown panic was visible in her eyes now. She looked as if she was about to make a run for it. Cameron hoped she wouldn’t. He didn’t think he could take out all four of the other men before someone got a shot off at her.

A quick plan came to Cameron. God, he hoped this would work. He pushed himself away from the car lazily. “Aw, come on, Fin, can’t I at least have a little fun with her first? Take her back to the house so there’s something for me to do instead of looking at your ugly mugs all the time?” Cameron used his most cajoling tone.

That got a couple chuckles from the men, but Fin wasn’t convinced.

“I thought you didn’t like her?”

Cameron smiled easily. “I don’t like cops.” Cameron walked over to Sophia and trailed a finger along her collarbone, just above her breasts. “But her, knowing she’s not a cop? Hmm.”

Cameron licked his lips and moved closer to Sophia. She shuddered and stepped as far away from him as she could. A tear fell from the corner of her eye.

The guys all laughed at her reaction to him. Cameron pushed her back against the warehouse wall angrily, as if she had embarrassed him. “Well, obviously I’m going to have to teach her some manners. But I’m up to the task. Maybe I’ll know some dirty jokes when I’m done.” That got more laughs.

Fin shook his head. “She’s too skinny for me. I prefer women with some meat on their bones.”

Cameron grinned and reached out to stroke some of Sophia’s hair. She wouldn’t even look at him. “Plenty of meat for me.”

The guys snickered. Fin looked down at his watch. “Whatever. Do what you want with her. I don’t care,” Fin told Cameron. “But she’s your responsibility. And you have to get rid of her when you’re done.”

Cameron felt marginally better now that the immediate threat to Sophia’s life seemed to have passed, and his undercover work was also relatively safe. But he was pretty sure the look in her eyes would haunt him the rest of his life.

One last finishing touch to the show. He grabbed Sophia by the nape of the neck and hauled her roughly against him. He brought his mouth down heavily on hers, and wrapped his other arm around her hips. For a moment Sophia did nothing, then without warning she exploded into furious action, pushing away from him and squirming in his grasp.

Cameron brought his lips up her jawline to her ear, holding her body firmly against his. Quietly, so no one could hear him but her, he whispered, “Whatever you do, don’t let anyone know you know me.”

Sophia was attempting so hard to get away from him, Cameron wasn’t sure if she heard him. He hoped she did. He brought his lips back to hers. This time she bit his lip.

The men howled in laughter when Cameron jerked back from her.

“Ow, you little hellion. You’re going to pay for that.”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the car. Someone opened the door for them and Cameron all but threw her in, then climbed in after her. It broke his heart to see how Sophia scrambled as far away from him as she could get in the confines of the SUV.

He had saved their lives for now, but the danger was far from finished. And he hoped the trauma he’d dealt Sophia wasn’t too much to repair.

* * *

SOPHIA WAS JUST trying to keep it together. She slid all the way over in the seat to try to get as far away from Cameron as possible. If she could’ve curled herself into a tiny ball, she would have.

Normally she didn’t like being in the backseat of a vehicle, especially when there were no windows she could roll down. But right now her claustrophobia would just have to get in line behind all the other things her brain had to freak out about.

Like the fact that she had just been kidnapped by some gang that her ex-boyfriend seemed to be part of.

Except she didn’t know if he was really part of it or not.

Undercover.

It would answer a lot of questions if Cameron was working undercover. Like why he had tried to get her out of the warehouse and hadn’t said anything about her FBI credentials.

Of course, it could also be that he was now a member of this organized crime group, or whatever it was, and just didn’t want his ex-girlfriend’s brains to get splattered all over the pavement.

So back to square one.

Sophia peeked over at Cameron to find him watching her with a decidedly malevolent look in his eyes. Sophia shuddered. That leering look was not something she had ever thought she would see from Cameron. Maybe he really was a criminal now. Sophia tried not to panic. If that look from Cameron was real, she was in big trouble.

But then Sophia glanced up and saw the leader guy, Fin, watching her and Cameron in the rearview mirror. Maybe Cameron suspected that they were being watched and was playing a role.

Undercover.

Please, please, please let him be working undercover.

After Cameron had told her to go, she had done exactly what he had asked: gone straight to her car. But when she had gotten to the door, her car wasn’t there. The big guy—Marco?—was driving it inside. Sophia cursed herself for leaving the keys in it, but she had thought there was no one around for miles.

Sophia had tried to sneak outside without Marco seeing her, but hadn’t managed it. The next thing she knew he’d grabbed her and had dragged her out the back exit of the warehouse.

Where Cameron had proceeded to scream at, strike and humiliate her.

And maybe save her life.

Sophia touched her lip—it still hurt, both from the slap and his mouth-grinding kiss. She had no such misconception that she was really any safer now than she had been while at the warehouse. But at least nobody had a gun in their hands now.

As the men around her chatted and generally insulted each other, Sophia tried to watch out the window without looking as if she was watching out the window. She didn’t want to give anyone—Cameron included—a reason to think she was a threat. But if she had a chance to get away, she planned to take it, and knowing where she was would help.

They were still pretty far outside of DC when they turned into a residential area. Definitely not high-end, the houses were old, but pretty large. They were far enough apart that neighbors wouldn’t be forced to see what the other was doing unless they were deliberately trying to. All in all, probably a good location for people selling drugs or weapons or whatever else. Although it wasn’t too promising, maybe Sophia would be able to call for help when they parked and got out of the car, and someone would notice.

Their SUV pulled up to the house on the corner. Although the house was probably built in the 1960s, someone had obviously refurbished the garage door with a contemporary opener. The SUV pulled straight into the garage and the door shut quickly behind them.

Sophia bit back a sigh. So much for calling out to the neighbors for help.

Cameron’s scary, black look was back. And even though she hoped he might be a good guy, Sophia was frightened. Everyone got out of the car, but Sophia couldn’t force herself to move. She shrank back into the seat when Cameron reached for her.

“Get out here right now,” Cameron told her through gritted teeth.

She could hear the other men laughing in the doorway. Fin called out, “Regretting your decision already, Cam?”

“I’m not regretting anything, but someone else is about to.”

One of the other men whose name she didn’t know offered to come help Cam get her out of the vehicle, listing in very crude detail what he would do to her while he was assisting.

Cameron glared at Sophia through narrowed eyes for a moment before calling back over his shoulder, “Actually, that sounds like a pretty good idea, Rick. Why don’t you come on in here?”

Sophia immediately scooted over to Cameron and out the car door. All the men doubled over in malicious laughter in the doorway. Cameron grabbed her arm and dragged her forcefully out of the garage past the men, and toward the back of the house into what obviously was his bedroom. Sophia could still hear the other gang members laughing.

Once inside, Cameron turned and locked the door. Then Sophia watched, standing in the middle of the room, as he went over and grabbed a wooden chair that was leaning against the far wall. He dragged the chair to the door and propped it under the doorknob—added defense against anyone entering.

Cameron turned from the door and walked slowly over to Sophia. He stopped only when he was just inches from her. He reached up and touched the split on her lip.

They both winced.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened today, and everything that’s going to happen tonight,” he told her softly. “But right now I’m going to need you to scream like you’re terrified out of your mind. Or else I’m going to have to force you to do it.”

Chapter Four

Cameron wasn’t sure if this situation could get much worse, but the look Sophia gave him made him think it probably could.

“Wh-what?” she stammered, backing away from him.

“Scream.”

“Why?”

Cameron took a step toward her, closing the space between them again. “Look, Sophia, I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t,” he whispered close to her ear. “But those creeps out there have to think that there is something pretty terrible going on in here.”

Sophia looked around the room frantically, as if trying to find a way to escape. A tear seeped from the corner of her eye.

Cameron grimaced. Unfortunately, tears weren’t going to cut it in this case. He had to prove to the men in the rest of the house that there was a reason he had brought Sophia here.

One she wouldn’t like.

Ultimately, the worse it seemed in here for her, the safer she would be from the other men.

“You have to scream. Yell. Call me names. Do something.”

But Sophia just shook her head, looking around the room, anywhere but at him. It was almost as if she was in shock. Which would be understandable.

“Need some help in there, Cam?” Somebody—it sounded like Rick—called out from the other side of the door.

Damn. “Everything’s just fine,” Cameron responded.

Cameron gripped Sophia’s arms—hard—and shook her. “C’mon, Soph. Work with me. If they think you like it, they’re going to want their chance.”

She still just looked at him mutely. It honestly seemed beyond her ability to make any sort of sound whatsoever.

“Damn it, Soph.” Cameron shook her again. “I need you to fight me like you did back at the warehouse. Before you knew it was me.”

Then it occurred to Cameron what he needed to do. She had fought him like a wildcat in the warehouse. Not because she thought he was such a bad guy, but because she seemed so claustrophobic.

In his training and work for both the US Army Rangers and then Omega Sector, Cameron had been taught how to use perps’ weaknesses against them. It was one of the reasons Cameron had excelled at undercover work—his ability to pinpoint fears of the enemy. And use those fears without mercy.

He never thought he’d be using that training and skill to manipulate the one woman he once thought he might spend the rest of his life with.

Cameron spun Sophia around and put his hand over her mouth as he had at the warehouse. She immediately tensed up and started struggling. When he didn’t release her after a few moments she began fighting in earnest.

Cameron, protecting his face as best he could from her clawing hands, dragged her over to where the lone dresser stood in the sparse room. She kicked at it, causing it to hit up against the wall.

He could hear laughter from the other rooms.

Cameron removed his hand from her mouth.

“Let me go!” Sophia yelled as soon as his hand was gone. Cameron released her for just a moment and she flung herself around to face him, breaths sawing in and out of her chest.

This wasn’t going to work. They couldn’t hear her if his hand was over her mouth, but she didn’t scream if it wasn’t. Cameron looked around. The room had a tiny walk-in closet. Maybe that would be small enough to terrify her.

Cameron steeled himself against the thought of Sophia’s terror. He stepped toward her and this time she did scream as he reached for her.

“No!”

His hand covered her mouth again. He could hear whistles and catcalls from outside the door.

“Just a couple more minutes, baby. Hang in there,” he whispered into Sophia’s ear as he dragged her toward the closet.

When Sophia realized where they were headed, she fought him harder than before. Panic took over. She got a good punch to his cheek before he could catch her arm. That was going to leave a mark. But he didn’t let it stop him.

He caught the door with his foot and pushed it open. The closet was practically empty, just a couple of his shirts hanging in it. It wasn’t big by any means, with barely enough room for two people, but it wasn’t tiny. Only someone who really struggled with tight spaces would have a problem being in it for a short amount of time.

Cameron dragged the struggling Sophia into the enclosed space, keeping her back to his chest. He pulled the door closed with one hand and released her mouth with his other.

Sophia screamed as if she was terrified out of her mind. Which she was.

Cameron had no idea what obnoxious comments or noises the members of DS-13 were making about this. He couldn’t hear anything over Sophia’s screams.

Sophia fought in a violent frenzy—kicking, clawing, throwing wild punches. Cameron just tried to keep her from hurting him or herself. He kept her as close as he could to his body. After what seemed like the longest period of time in the history of the world—and probably even longer to her—but was really only a few seconds, Cameron opened the door and let go of Sophia. She immediately pushed away from Cameron and all but dived out of the closet, landing heavily on the floor.

She pushed herself across the floor, as far away from him and the closet as she could get, sucking in deep gulps of air the entire time. When she reached the far corner of the room she dragged her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth. Cameron stood just outside the closet, watching her, unsure what to do. He had no idea why she was so claustrophobic, but it was definitely not something she had any control over.

In that moment Cameron hated every single thing about his life in law enforcement. He was here to catch bad guys. But right now the good guys were the ones who were paying the price.

Cameron took a step toward Sophia and she cringed away from him, whimpering. “No, please...” She stretched out her arms as if to ward him off.

“No,” Cameron whispered. “I won’t do that again. Never again.”

Sophia nodded her head, but still shied away from him. Cameron didn’t want to move any closer to her. She’d been through enough. Down the hall, Cameron could hear the TV blaring. Evidently the guys thought the show in Cameron’s room was over.

He hoped it had been worth it. Because looking at Sophia right now, Cameron didn’t think there was any way it could possibly have been.

Cameron took a few steps toward her then sat down on the floor so he could be eye to eye with Sophia. Her breathing was still labored, and every last ounce of color was missing from her face.

“Sophia, I’m so sorry.” Cameron spoke softly. He knew this room wasn’t bugged, but couldn’t take any chances on any member of DS-13 overhearing them.

Cameron moved a little closer to Sophia but she shied away again. Cameron rubbed the back of his neck, where permanent tension seemed to have lodged, at least since he had first seen Sophia again this afternoon.

He wanted to give Sophia the physical space she needed, but the things he needed to say couldn’t be said from across the room. Moving slowly, he scooted over until he was next to her against the wall.

Sophia just huddled into her corner and didn’t look at him. But at least her breathing was slowing down a bit, wasn’t quite so labored.

“Sophia, I’m so sorry,” he said again. As if saying it again would make everything okay. “I had to make them think that something bad was happening in here.”

Sophia gave a quiet bark of acerbic laughter.

Cameron shook his head. “I mean, something they would think is bad. You know what they expected.”

Sophia nodded her head slightly, but didn’t say anything. They sat there in silence for long moments. Cameron tried to figure out what possible words could make this better.

“Things have changed since I saw you last, five years ago,” Cameron said softly, close to her ear.

“I know,” Sophia all but hissed, but just as softly. “The Cameron Branson I knew five years ago never would’ve done this.” She gestured toward her face with her hand, then pointed toward the closet with a shaky arm.

“Sophia, I’m sorry I hit you earlier. I had to take action immediately. And the closet...” Cameron shrugged wearily. “It had to be done.”

Sophia turned away from him again without saying anything.

“It’s not like I planned any of this. Damn it, Soph, I’m just trying to keep you alive.”

Sophia covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Looking over at the arm that was now exposed because her short-sleeved blue shirt was ripped at the shoulder, he could see some angry red marks on her arm. Those were from him, probably during the closet fiasco. They were definitely going to leave bruises on her pale skin, even though he had only been trying to help.

Although it pained him, Cameron hardened himself against the ache he felt at the thought of marring her beautiful skin. The bruises would help sell their story to DS-13.

“At least tell me you’re here, you know...working,” Sophia finally said to him.

Cameron appreciated that she left out the word undercover. That word could get them both killed quicker than almost anything else they could say. “Yeah. I’m with the agency.”

Cameron knew he was being vague, but didn’t think now was the time to go into Omega Sector and his life there. When they had known each other before, he had just been coming out of the Rangers. Sophia didn’t know anything about Omega—even most people who worked in the FBI knew nothing about it.

Sophia let out a sigh and turned toward him slightly. “Well, that’s a relief. I wasn’t sure.”

She wasn’t sure? “Seriously? What did you think, I had left the Rangers and joined some sort of crime syndicate since we last spoke?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Cameron shook his head. “I guess.” He must really have been undercover too long if an old friend couldn’t tell if he was pretending or not. Maybe he had been in the darkness too long.

Cameron didn’t have time for metaphors about darkness and light in his life. He had a job to do: justice for his partner’s killer and retrieval of Ghost Shell. And now making sure Sophia got out of this alive and relatively unscathed.

He definitely did not have time to think about how beautiful she was, or how much she had meant to him five years ago, or how often he had thought about her since.

Keeping her alive. That was the most important thing.

* * *

WAS HE HONESTLY offended that she couldn’t tell if he was really working undercover or not when she was sitting here with bruises and a racing heartbeat from what he had done to her?

Sophia looked at the closet again. From across the room, it looked so benign. Obviously there was plenty of air throughout both this room and the closet. She very clearly knew that now. But five minutes ago there had been no way to convince her mind of that.

She pulled her knees closer to her body. She believed Cameron when he said he was undercover. She even believed he was doing what he thought was best when he had hit her earlier, and everything that had happened since. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to touch her again.

But part of her desperately wanted him to touch her again. She had wanted that for five years. But not here in this house with those filthy men in the next room.

Sophia glanced sideways at Cameron. He looked as exhausted as she felt. Sophia didn’t know much about undercover work, but she was sure that her entrance into the picture had to have thrown a wrench into whatever mission he was on.

“Have I totally screwed things up for you? I tried to get out of the warehouse like you said, but that big guy was out there,” Sophia offered softly.

Cameron looked surprised that she was talking to him at all. Now that she was calming down she was realizing that Cameron really had been working in her best interest.

But she still wanted out of here as soon as possible.

“Well, your presence was definitely unexpected. But so far it looks like there was no harm done to the case.”

“Really?” Sophia couldn’t believe that was true.

“Yeah, evidently how I’ve been treating you has been helping solidify my bad-guy reputation.”

“How long have you been...working with them?” Sophia turned toward him slightly.

“This group is called DS-13. They’re basically into everything—weapons, drugs, money laundering. And now it looks like they’re expanding into full-on terrorism.” Cameron gestured toward the rest of the house with his thumb. “I’ve been in this house for about three weeks, but first made contact eight months ago.”

“What do you do? I mean, what do they think you do?”

“They think I’m a midlevel weapons dealer. What you walked in on today was a sale I had set up.”

Sophia shook her head. Just sheer bad luck. If Bruce had gotten the pictures when he was supposed to have... “If they did a sale, can’t you make arrests?”

Cameron shifted a little closer to her, but this time Sophia didn’t feel the need to move away.

“I could’ve arrested everybody there, and would’ve tried if things had gotten much more out of hand.”

“Tried?”

Cameron reached over and pulled up her ripped sleeve, as if he could reattach it to the rest of her shirt by sheer will. “There were four of them, all armed, against just you and me. And only I had a weapon.”

“Not very good odds, I guess.” Sophia shuddered thinking about it.

“No, I doubt if either of us would’ve made it out alive.” Cameron shrugged and smiled crookedly at her. “But I would’ve tried.”

“Don’t you have a wire or something? Backup?”

“Sometimes. But not in deep cover like this. It’s too complicated and dangerous to have surveillance all the time. DS-13 is smart—that’s why they chose this house. Surveillance vehicles would be pretty easy to spot around here.”

“But what if you need help?” Sophia couldn’t believe they would just send Cameron in by himself.

He smiled at her again and she found herself shifting a little more toward him.

That cocky smile. Lord, how she’d missed it.

“Honey, I can take care of myself. But I do have ways to bring in backup, if I need it.”

“Like today?”

“Believe it or not, today was mostly for show. The buyers were picked up not long after they left the warehouse. The whole thing was just supposed to show DS-13 how helpful and well-organized my buys could be for them.”

Cameron stretched his long legs out in front of him. “The agency was supposed to have blocked everything off so nobody would be around those warehouses.”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I got way lost and ended up coming through some farmer’s back field to get to the warehouses. If the FBI was watching the roads, that’s why they didn’t see me.”

Cameron nodded as if she had just solved some puzzle for him. “I didn’t want to make any arrests because these are just lower-level bad guys. I’m trying to get their boss.”

Sophia watched, a little frightened, as Cameron’s face and posture hardened right before her eyes. Whoever this “boss” was, Cameron wanted to take him down. Badly.

“No luck yet?”

“Haven’t even met him. This sort of work is tricky—you can’t push too hard or it backfires on you.”

Sophia nodded. She couldn’t imagine the sort of pressure being undercover would put on someone. Never knowing if you were making the right choices, or when you may be discovered.

It had definitely made Cameron Branson into a harder man than when she had known him five years ago. Then, he had still been strong—physically, mentally, in all possible ways. But now there was an edge to him that hadn’t been there before. One that scared her a little.

One that had probably saved her life earlier.

Almost as if her body was moving of its own accord she turned toward him. He did look exhausted. His black hair, grown out from how short it used to be, was touching his collar. Before she could stop herself, Sophia reached out and tucked a stray curl back from where it had fallen onto his forehead, nearly to his eyes.

For a moment they looked at each other. Sophia forgot where they were, the danger they were in, the fear she had felt. She only saw Cameron.

Something slid under the door before a fist beat loudly on it. Sophia jumped back at the sound, the moment—whatever it was—shattered.

“Cam, man, you alive in there? I need to talk to you.”

Cameron stood up and walked over to pick up whatever had been slid under the door. “Yeah, Fin. I’ll be right out.”

Cameron walked back over to her, and reached his hand out to help her up. Sophia hesitated for just a moment before taking it. “What is it he put under the door?”

Cameron walked with her over to the edge of the bed then sat down with a sigh. He held up what was in his hands: plastic zip ties—used everywhere to secure and fasten all sorts of things.

Sophia shook her head, confused. What were the ties for? Whatever it was, Cameron wasn’t too happy about it.

“Poor man’s handcuffs,” he finally said. “I guess Fin wants to make sure you don’t try to escape or anything while he and I are talking.”

Oh. “Okay, I guess.” Sophia was determined to keep it together. Now that she knew Cameron was undercover, she needed to help him if she could. Not being hysterical was the most help she could offer right now.

“Just don’t try to struggle against them. They’ll cut into your wrists if you do.”

Sophia swallowed hard and nodded.

“I’m going to run one set around your wrists and one around your ankles since there’s nothing in this room to secure you to. It will look more authentic that way if someone checks.”

Sophia’s panicked glaze flew up to his. Someone checking?

A fist pounded on the door again. “Damn it, Cam. Hurry up. You can finish doing whatever you want to her after we talk.”

Cameron spoke to her quickly as he pulled the plastic fasteners around her ankles. “I’ll be as fast as I can, but sometimes Fin likes to hear himself talk.”

Cameron tightened the ties so they were tight but not painful. “If anybody comes through that door that isn’t me, start screaming your head off. Immediately. Don’t wait to see what they want.”

Sophia nodded. That wasn’t a problem. She knew her screaming voice was definitely in working condition.

Cameron slipped the other ties around her wrists, and pulled them tight. He helped her so she was sitting up against the wall the bed leaned against.

Cameron leaned down and put his forehead against hers. “I’m going to get you out of this. I swear to God.” He lowered his lips and kissed her gently, then turned and strode out of the room without another word.

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