“I’ll go through this stuff.” Rome squeezed by her to enter the office, brushing his hard body against hers and giving her a reassuring pat. “Why don’t you check the bedroom?”

She watched him bend to one knee and start sifting through the papers on the floor, scanning each before he stacked them neatly to the side. The motion tightened his jeans against his taut rear. Though she was struggling mightily to hold her emotions in check, she let herself indulge in the ordinary act of appreciating the fine male specimen before her eyes.

Shaking her head, Harper paced down the hall to Bobby’s bedroom. Again, ugly destruction greeted her. She stood in the doorway and surveyed the morbid scene. In a daze, she walked in.

Picking up a rumpled T-shirt from the floor, she stared at the faded symbol of the Green Lantern. Bobby loved comic book heroes as much as she did. They had competitions of who could find the coolest vintage shirts of their favorites.

She carefully folded the shirt and held it in one hand as she reached with the other to pick up an upside-down wooden picture frame on the floor. Turning it over, she saw her own image next to Bobby’s through the cracked glass. They were facing the camera, each with an arm around the other’s shoulder in front of a glorious mountain backdrop.

Ah yes, their summer trip to Whistler a few years back. They’d ridden up the open chairlift to the summit of Whistler Mountain. Smiling, Harper remembered being absolutely petrified to ride the lift high above the craggy, rocky mountainside. Bobby had laughed at her anxiety, but had also held on to her arm with doting support and talked to her the whole way, both up and down, to keep her too distracted to freak out.

Her eyes misted over. She stood, then leaned back to sit on the disheveled bed. Bringing the shirt up to her face, she could faintly smell the fresh, cool scent of Bobby’s cologne.

The picture frame slid from her unsteady grasp, but she barely heard the thump as it hit the floor. Instead, she buried her face in Bobby’s well-worn T-shirt and finally let loose her crushing anguish.

It was just too much. Surrounded by Bobby’s things, knowing he’d never see them again was just too much. The silent tears just kept coming. And she didn’t even care to stop them.

She had no idea how long she’d been crying when she heard faint footsteps and felt the bed sink next to her. Strong arms circled her trembling shoulders and pulled her into a solid embrace. Leaning into the warm body, she heard Rome’s strong and comforting heartbeat while his hand made soothing patterns on her back.

Rome tightened his grip, startling her. She sniffled and raised her head to look at him. Head slightly tilted, he was clearly listening for something. He released her and stood silently, pulling his gun just seconds before she heard the front door crash open.

Rome heard the footsteps trying not to crunch on the gravel outside just seconds before the front door was bashed open. He silently cursed for allowing himself to get caught up in Harper’s naked grief. She was undeniably distracting. He’d known coming here would be hard for her, but he’d also known she was strong and could handle it well enough.

And she had done better than he’d expected. Really, he couldn’t blame her for falling apart at seeing her brother’s place in shambles, and it also justified his belief that she truly was shocked that Bobby was dead. No, he didn’t know her well at all, but what he did know from all the cruelty he’d seen in the field was that depth of sorrow couldn’t be faked.

“Get behind me, fast,” he hissed.

Harper quickly got up and stood still at his back. He could feel the warmth of her taut body just a breath away from his as he listened. It was impossible for whoever was out there to keep quiet with the amount of debris littered over the floor. Someone stumbled and grunted. Idiots.

It was difficult to tell how many people had entered the house, not to mention how many might be wandering around outside. Rome was glad he’d parked in the back, obscured by some dense and drooping trees. It came to him while he was digging through the clutter in Bobby’s office that Jeff would have expected him back by now-with Harper in tow, dead or alive.

Well, the woman most certainly was alive. And he’d inexplicably committed himself to help her. So it was somewhat possible Jeff was looking for him as well. But he was pretty damn sure whoever was bumbling around out there was after the enigmatic woman standing right behind him with her hand resting lightly on his shoulder blade.

He turned toward her. Is there a way to the back? he mouthed. Damn, she was close. Close enough that he dropped his gaze to her full lips. He nearly moaned when the tip of her tongue poked out to wet them. Sheer willpower forced his attention back to her eyes. She shook her head no.

Tearing his gaze back to the hallway, he noticed shadows milling around near their position. Could Harper and he get through the window and to the Land Rover without causing alarm? It was likely that the intruders didn’t know they were even here.

Deciding their best tactical option was to run, he turned to look at Harper, then immediately pulled her to the floor in a tangled crouch. Outside the window he caught a glimpse of motion. Damn it all to hell. Whoever was out there was going to find his car.

He and Harper had to do something fast before they were completely trapped.

“There’s a window in the office.” Harper’s breathy voice in his ear gave him a jolt. Shake it off, boy.

He nodded, trying to clear his mind, which was tough considering the snug contact of their bodies. He peeked around the corner. All clear. If they moved fast, they might beat the intruders to the car via the office window. “Let’s go.” He readied his gun, barrel down, wrist steady, and grabbed her hand, hauling her up with him.

Leading her cautiously down the hallway, he hugged the wall, briefly smiling when he noticed her doing the same. As they reached the doorway, he pulled her with him inside the room.

“Stop!” boomed a loud voice. Crack! A bullet splintered the doorframe directly above Harper’s head.

Too damn close. They needed a new plan. Rome was smart enough to know when to give in. But he never gave up.

“Get out here now,” the man commanded. “With your hands on your head.” Maybe they didn’t know he was there. Maybe he could catch them off guard. But that left Harper alone to face them.

Yes, she was tough, but against the hostile firepower that was probably out there? She was wanted dead or alive. Which, to most agents, meant dead. If they had been sent by Jeff, there wasn’t much that would stop them from pulling their triggers.

“All right,” Rome answered loudly enough for anyone in the house to hear. “We’re coming out.” He nodded to Harper and gave her a look he hoped was reassuring. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips, but nodded back. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her in a low voice, and gave her arm a comforting squeeze.

Moving ahead of her, he holstered his gun and put his hands on his head, motioning her to mimic him. He was thankful she did, though she seemed a bit more passive than the woman he knew-albeit briefly.

As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, two men roughly grabbed his upraised arms and dragged him into the trashed living room. Gritting his teeth, he watched as they did the same to Harper. His captors abruptly stopped and Harper stumbled as she was shoved to a halt next to him. The men moved around to face the two of them.

“Are you Harper Kane?” one asked in a blunt tone.

Rome wasn’t sure whether she would answer. He kept staring straight ahead, not wanting to tip them off in case she didn’t.