Read The Perfect Hostage (A Super Agent Novella) (Entangled Edge) for Free Online

as what to have for breakfast? All night they’d talked and laughed and fucked, that same easiness between them that John had never felt with another woman.
    An easiness that scared him.
    Yet, here he was, discussing breakfast options. Outside, his truck sat in a bed of snow. It would take an hour to unbury it, clear off the drive. Meanwhile, the storm raged, daring him to try. But it was nothing compared to the storm inside his heart.
    A smart man would hightail it to the shower, grab the soap, and wash her back and all those other body parts he loved so much. A smart man would go cook the eggs and bacon and work hard to make her laugh again.
    But then, a smart man would enjoy the way she looked at him all the time with her heart in her eyes. Those beautiful, emotion-filled eyes…she was hungry for love, not just sex, and while he’d pretended it didn’t matter, it did.
    Shit . Why was he still here?
    Because once I had her in front of me again, once I tasted her lips and heard those words—John, I need you—I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t leave .
    Not this time.
    Running away was for pussies. In the line of duty, he’d never run from anything. In his private life, it was just the opposite. He was tired of running from people, from his own fucking emotions. Maybe with Lucie he didn’t have to.
    Home.
    He glanced at the truck again. The freedom it offered suddenly didn’t appeal.
    Wandering over to the open bathroom door, he took a deep breath. Leaned on the jamb. He didn’t have to leave. He could stay, explore this thing—whatever it was—with Lucie, and not panic.
    “Eggs and bacon would be perfect,” he said, watching her through the frosted glass. Ordinary conversation the morning after. A first for him. He liked it.
    “I’ll make some scones, too,” she said, washing her hair. She leaned back into the water stream, her breasts on glorious display behind the glass.
    John’s cock twitched, but he stayed rooted where he was, forcing himself to soak in this ordinary, mundane moment of “normal.” The type of normal he’d never had.
    Was this what Lawson had with Zara?
    John’s chest still felt tight, and the itch to leave lingered under his skin, but normal wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. In fact, he felt…content.
    Huh. Another first.
    Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised when the shower shut off. Lucie opened the door, grabbed a towel, and stepped out. When she saw his face, her brows knit into a frown. “If you don’t like scones, I’ll make toast.”
    “Um…sure.” He tried to concentrate on the breakfast selection, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to freeze this moment. “Lucie?”
    She toweled her wet hair, the frown dissipating. “Yes?”
    Standing still, he just stared at her, trying to work out what he’d been thinking. Wanting to tell her that he was staying, that he hoped to stay longer than breakfast. Longer, maybe, than the weekend.
    He started to speak, stopped. Tell her.
    Wrapping the towel around her body, she noticed his struggle, and her eyes grew wary. “What is it?”
    His jaw clamped tight as a vise, refusing to let the words out.
    She stepped toward him. “ Ça va ? Are you okay?”
    Backing up, he shook his head. No, he wasn’t fucking okay. A knot had formed in his chest. He was stupid, foolish.
    Scared.
    Don’t be a pussy.
    “I’m… I want to…” Jesus. What was wrong with him?
    Her face fell, the light in her eyes dimming. “You are leaving then? Before breakfast?”
    The hurt in her voice was too much. Way too much. They’d been here before—him bailing—so what else did she expect? He turned, faced the wall, wanting to put his fist in it.
    This was why he couldn’t do relationships. Not all the other bullshit he told himself. It wasn’t his job or the fact he could be killed on any of his missions and leave behind a family. He was broken inside. Something wasn’t right. Other people knew how to handle emotions, knew how