was.
“Why didn’t she ever mention it? Especially when you were taken during that kidnapping case.” Even when the team had been unwilling to listen to Kieralyn’s demands that Lana had been on to something. Even when she’d gone outside the FBI and pulled in the expert listener from the NSA—Ian—to help her. “And why did you send that recording to her instead of him?”
“I’m sure she would have played that card if she hadn’t been able to enlist Ian’s help or track me down on her own.” Lana smiled as she seasoned some steaks she’d pulled from the fridge. She seemed to be enjoying his confusion. “Besides, while I have no doubt the entire FBI would have been looking for me if I’d brought Dad in, I didn’t want that much attention any more than yours or any other Bureau team would want to deal with my dad in that situation.”
She was right that no one would have wanted to work with the Director but that was a risk of the job. The man was a bulldog and he’d have called every shot on the investigation. That Lana had hesitated to utilize that missile launcher when she’d been in danger was another layer to the confusion she caused. “The attention would have gotten you recognition and any promotion you wanted.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. After she’d slid the steaks into the oven and allowed the door to slam closed, she turned on him. Her stare swelled with suppressed fury. “I’m not sure what’s more impossible for you to grasp. Maybe it’s the idea that a woman would prefer not having her powerful daddy throw his weight around for her. Or it could be that she finds more pride in herself when she handles things on her own. Or maybe it’s just that I prefer things that way.”
“Lana.”
“Something in that thick head of yours is keeping you from seeing it.” Her voice lowered as her rage increased. “You look at me and see a power-hungry journalist who’s willing to sell her own mother for a story, no matter how many times I prove differently.”
“That’s not—”
“True?” She nodded. “It’s absolutely true. Somewhere along the way you were burned when you allowed yourself to trust a journalist. I don’t have to know who she is or what she did to know it was…damaging.”
Damaging didn’t touch what had happened, but he wasn’t going to get into it with Lana. Hell, the last thing he wanted to do was catch her interest in the way of a story. Scandal, even a perceived one, didn’t die. It only got more romanticized and interesting.
“I’m not like that other reporter, Aidan. I want success. I push hard for it, and yes, I take risks. But damn it, I never risk a case or another person’s integrity.” She flipped the steaks and shut the oven door more calmly than the last time. “When I win awards I want to know I got them through honesty, hard work and on my own merit. I need to know every day that I’ve done nothing to sacrifice my morals.”
Conviction rose in her voice when anger had lowered it. Under the conviction was what sounded like a layer of pain. As if he had the power to actually hurt her. While part of him saw the truth of her words, another part stood in disbelief and waited for her to let him down. They were the same parts that warred between wanting to be with her and wanting to run from her before doing something to piss off the director.
The doorbell rang, saving him from having to respond.
“Watch those.” She waved at the oven and headed to the door. She turned in the doorway and shook her head almost sadly. “I wish you’d stop expecting me to betray you.”
She turned away and headed to her door. Her voice was muffled, but Aidan heard clearly enough.
“What the hell?” Lana asked.
“Should’ve stayed out of it.” Either a woman with a deep voice or a man with a slightly high one spoke. “Now it’s your turn.”
Chills covered Aidan’s neck. He was running to the door with his gun drawn, yet when he got there
“Why didn’t she ever mention it? Especially when you were taken during that kidnapping case.” Even when the team had been unwilling to listen to Kieralyn’s demands that Lana had been on to something. Even when she’d gone outside the FBI and pulled in the expert listener from the NSA—Ian—to help her. “And why did you send that recording to her instead of him?”
“I’m sure she would have played that card if she hadn’t been able to enlist Ian’s help or track me down on her own.” Lana smiled as she seasoned some steaks she’d pulled from the fridge. She seemed to be enjoying his confusion. “Besides, while I have no doubt the entire FBI would have been looking for me if I’d brought Dad in, I didn’t want that much attention any more than yours or any other Bureau team would want to deal with my dad in that situation.”
She was right that no one would have wanted to work with the Director but that was a risk of the job. The man was a bulldog and he’d have called every shot on the investigation. That Lana had hesitated to utilize that missile launcher when she’d been in danger was another layer to the confusion she caused. “The attention would have gotten you recognition and any promotion you wanted.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. After she’d slid the steaks into the oven and allowed the door to slam closed, she turned on him. Her stare swelled with suppressed fury. “I’m not sure what’s more impossible for you to grasp. Maybe it’s the idea that a woman would prefer not having her powerful daddy throw his weight around for her. Or it could be that she finds more pride in herself when she handles things on her own. Or maybe it’s just that I prefer things that way.”
“Lana.”
“Something in that thick head of yours is keeping you from seeing it.” Her voice lowered as her rage increased. “You look at me and see a power-hungry journalist who’s willing to sell her own mother for a story, no matter how many times I prove differently.”
“That’s not—”
“True?” She nodded. “It’s absolutely true. Somewhere along the way you were burned when you allowed yourself to trust a journalist. I don’t have to know who she is or what she did to know it was…damaging.”
Damaging didn’t touch what had happened, but he wasn’t going to get into it with Lana. Hell, the last thing he wanted to do was catch her interest in the way of a story. Scandal, even a perceived one, didn’t die. It only got more romanticized and interesting.
“I’m not like that other reporter, Aidan. I want success. I push hard for it, and yes, I take risks. But damn it, I never risk a case or another person’s integrity.” She flipped the steaks and shut the oven door more calmly than the last time. “When I win awards I want to know I got them through honesty, hard work and on my own merit. I need to know every day that I’ve done nothing to sacrifice my morals.”
Conviction rose in her voice when anger had lowered it. Under the conviction was what sounded like a layer of pain. As if he had the power to actually hurt her. While part of him saw the truth of her words, another part stood in disbelief and waited for her to let him down. They were the same parts that warred between wanting to be with her and wanting to run from her before doing something to piss off the director.
The doorbell rang, saving him from having to respond.
“Watch those.” She waved at the oven and headed to the door. She turned in the doorway and shook her head almost sadly. “I wish you’d stop expecting me to betray you.”
She turned away and headed to her door. Her voice was muffled, but Aidan heard clearly enough.
“What the hell?” Lana asked.
“Should’ve stayed out of it.” Either a woman with a deep voice or a man with a slightly high one spoke. “Now it’s your turn.”
Chills covered Aidan’s neck. He was running to the door with his gun drawn, yet when he got there
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