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of her ears. But she made no move to cover herself.

    She didn’t look scared anymore.

    “Who are you, really?” she whispered.

    Uncertain, tentative, guarded, yes. Frightened, no.

    Uh-oh. He backpedaled fast. “Lorraine—”

    “Rainie.”

    “What?”

    “My name. Call me Rainie.”

    He wiped his free hand over his mouth. “Okay, look, Rainie, I don’t think—”

    “Do your friends really call you Kick?” she interrupted again.

    She hadn’t asked his actual name, he noted. He searched her eyes for a sign. Of what, he wasn’t exactly sure. But what he was sure of was that the one-eighty this conversation had suddenly taken was probably not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. The whole kidnapping/held-against-her-will thing put a very different spin on having any kind of physical relations with Lorraine Martin. Legal-wise.

    And also blackmail-wise. His old unit, the ZU, was very good at blackmail. Not that they used the term. But the consequences would be just as real, for both of them.

    “Well?”

    He pushed back stomach-churning memories. “Yes. They really call me Kick.”

    “Okay,” she said carefully. “Kick. So, are you?”

    For the life of him, he couldn’t remember what she was talking about. “Am I what?”

    “Undercover?”

    Lying had been part of his professional life for so long that he almost let another one slide off his tongue without thinking. But he was done with all that. Another of the myriad reasons he’d wanted out. He’d always hated the lies and deception. And was trying his damnedest to put it all behind him now. Which meant telling the truth. As far as he could.

    “No. I’m not a cop.”

    An emotion he couldn’t identify flitted through her eyes, which were suddenly pooling again. Damn. Now what?

    She licked her lips, raised her hand, and pressed it haltingly to his chest. “Kick?”

    “Yeah?”

    “I really need you to tell me the truth about something.”

    “What’s that?”

    Her fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt. “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

    He felt the corner of his mouth curl up sardonically. Now, there was the five-million-dollar question.

    Tentatively he felt inside himself, searched his shadowed soul. Good or bad?

    For him, despite it all, despite everything he’d seen in his life of betrayal, lies, and deception, and everything he’d done in his bloody and violent world, in his own heart he knew the answer.

    He lifted his fingers and traced them along her jaw, feeling the creamy softness of her skin, and the impressive strength beneath it. He felt the fine trembling of her body’s desire for him, lurking just below the surface. And saw the desperate need in her eyes for it to be okay to want him. That he wasn’t a monster.

    He wanted to reassure her. To tell her without reservation he was one of the good guys. But would that be another lie? On the final day of reckoning, would he be judged good or bad? He just didn’t know. Not for sure.

    So he did the only thing he could. He told the truth.

    “I wish I knew, Rainie,” he murmured softly. “I really wish I knew.”

THREE

    RAINIE felt like she’d been dragged down a rabbit hole.

    She didn’t know what to think. Or do. She tightened her fingers in the front of Kick’s white shirt. Then abruptly pushed him away.

    “What kind of an answer is that?” She couldn’t help the sob that escaped with the words. Or the visceral reaction. She wanted to pound her fists against his chest but he grasped and held them in his steely grip.

    “An honest one.”

    Angry disappointment welled up like a storm surge. Why was this happening to her ? Why not to Gina? Or someone else? She was so attracted to this man! God, she wanted him. More than any other man she’d ever met. Why did he have to be a—

    Her frustration spilled over and her body began to tremble uncontrollably. Her pulse pounded.

    “What if I don’t want an honest answer?”

    “I’m sorry,”