softened with sympathy. Instead of giving Kari answers, she offered her support, putting an arm around her trembling shoulders and murmuring words of comfort while she cried.
Adam came home from work in the wee hours of Saturday morning, dead tired.
He still didn’t know what to think about Kari. If she was a drug smuggler, she was doing a damned fine job of fooling him. And an even better job of appealing to him on every level. There was something about her, a sweetness he couldn’t resist. He’d anticipated a sexual attraction, but he hadn’t expected to like her.
As he pulled into the garage, he noticed a strange presence at his doorstep, a figure slumped over in the dark. Ian. Adam wondered what had brought his friend back again so soon. It was unusual for him to visit while he was on assignment. They went weeks, sometimes months, without seeing each other.
Adam locked his car and left the garage, approaching the lump on his doorstep with caution. Ian was leaning against the side of the house, dozing. Always a light sleeper, he startled awake before Adam reached out tonudge him. The hood of his jacket slipped down, revealing his misshapen face, grotesque in the moonlight.
Adam swore under his breath. “What happened?”
Ian lumbered to his feet, with help from Adam. His left eye was swollen shut and dark with bruises. But he just shrugged, playing it cool.
“Do you need to go to the ER?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Come on,” Adam muttered, unlocking the front door and watching him limp inside. He went straight to the refrigerator, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. “The DEA can’t afford ice packs?”
Ian accepted the bag with a wry smile. “I had one. It melted.”
“You need painkillers?”
He put the peas over his eye. “Yeah.”
Adam went to the medicine cabinet and shook out a few tablets, over-the-counter stuff. He’d offer something stronger, but he knew Ian wouldn’t take it. He handed him the pills and a glass of water, grimacing. “What’s the damage?”
Ian took the bag away from his face long enough to swallow the painkillers. “I think I have some cuts on my back.”
Adam gestured toward the bathroom, resigned to playing doctor again. Only Ian wasn’t half as pretty a patient as Kari. When he pulled his T-shirt over his head, Adam’s gut clenched in sympathy. “Jesus, man.”
Ian turned, trying to check out his back in the mirror. There were a couple of shallow lacerations and some serious bruises. “Am I that fucked up?”
“Nah,” Adam said, finding the antiseptic. “You look like shit, though.”
Ian smoothed a hand over his stomach, which was washboard flat. He had always been lanky, and now he really fit the description of an addict. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. “I could use a plate of your sister’s enchiladas,” he admitted.
Adam dabbed at Ian’s scratches with a soaked cloth. “Yeah, well. Maybe you should have married her.”
Ian tensed, either from the sore subject or from his stinging wounds. They rarely discussed his fling with Raquel—it was ancient history. Adam didn’t know why he’d brought it up. Frowning, he finished tending to Ian’s back and gave him a clean T-shirt.
“Thanks,” Ian said.
They went back to the kitchen, where Ian sat down and Adam heated up some soup. “What are you doing here?” he asked, studying Ian’s puffy eye. He wouldn’t have shown up like this unless he was in trouble.
Ian took a few spoonfuls of soup and pushed the bowl aside. “I got in a scrape with a target,” he said, rubbing his bruised jaw. “I’d rather not make a big deal of it.”
“You mean you’d rather not report it?”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded.
“Why?”
“There was a girl …”
Adam took a seat at the table, cursing silently. He already knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it.
“I was outside with a secondary,” Ian continued. “My primary dragged her into a secluded location, against her
Adam came home from work in the wee hours of Saturday morning, dead tired.
He still didn’t know what to think about Kari. If she was a drug smuggler, she was doing a damned fine job of fooling him. And an even better job of appealing to him on every level. There was something about her, a sweetness he couldn’t resist. He’d anticipated a sexual attraction, but he hadn’t expected to like her.
As he pulled into the garage, he noticed a strange presence at his doorstep, a figure slumped over in the dark. Ian. Adam wondered what had brought his friend back again so soon. It was unusual for him to visit while he was on assignment. They went weeks, sometimes months, without seeing each other.
Adam locked his car and left the garage, approaching the lump on his doorstep with caution. Ian was leaning against the side of the house, dozing. Always a light sleeper, he startled awake before Adam reached out tonudge him. The hood of his jacket slipped down, revealing his misshapen face, grotesque in the moonlight.
Adam swore under his breath. “What happened?”
Ian lumbered to his feet, with help from Adam. His left eye was swollen shut and dark with bruises. But he just shrugged, playing it cool.
“Do you need to go to the ER?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Come on,” Adam muttered, unlocking the front door and watching him limp inside. He went straight to the refrigerator, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. “The DEA can’t afford ice packs?”
Ian accepted the bag with a wry smile. “I had one. It melted.”
“You need painkillers?”
He put the peas over his eye. “Yeah.”
Adam went to the medicine cabinet and shook out a few tablets, over-the-counter stuff. He’d offer something stronger, but he knew Ian wouldn’t take it. He handed him the pills and a glass of water, grimacing. “What’s the damage?”
Ian took the bag away from his face long enough to swallow the painkillers. “I think I have some cuts on my back.”
Adam gestured toward the bathroom, resigned to playing doctor again. Only Ian wasn’t half as pretty a patient as Kari. When he pulled his T-shirt over his head, Adam’s gut clenched in sympathy. “Jesus, man.”
Ian turned, trying to check out his back in the mirror. There were a couple of shallow lacerations and some serious bruises. “Am I that fucked up?”
“Nah,” Adam said, finding the antiseptic. “You look like shit, though.”
Ian smoothed a hand over his stomach, which was washboard flat. He had always been lanky, and now he really fit the description of an addict. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. “I could use a plate of your sister’s enchiladas,” he admitted.
Adam dabbed at Ian’s scratches with a soaked cloth. “Yeah, well. Maybe you should have married her.”
Ian tensed, either from the sore subject or from his stinging wounds. They rarely discussed his fling with Raquel—it was ancient history. Adam didn’t know why he’d brought it up. Frowning, he finished tending to Ian’s back and gave him a clean T-shirt.
“Thanks,” Ian said.
They went back to the kitchen, where Ian sat down and Adam heated up some soup. “What are you doing here?” he asked, studying Ian’s puffy eye. He wouldn’t have shown up like this unless he was in trouble.
Ian took a few spoonfuls of soup and pushed the bowl aside. “I got in a scrape with a target,” he said, rubbing his bruised jaw. “I’d rather not make a big deal of it.”
“You mean you’d rather not report it?”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded.
“Why?”
“There was a girl …”
Adam took a seat at the table, cursing silently. He already knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it.
“I was outside with a secondary,” Ian continued. “My primary dragged her into a secluded location, against her
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