Internal Affairs by Jessica Andersen

did—assuming she could believe him about the amnesia. She did believe him, though, because no matter how many times she’d called him a cheat and a liar inside her own head, the truth was that he’d never lied. He’d told her about the waitress the next morning. If he hadn’t lied about that, she couldn’t believe he was lying now. Which left them—where?
    She shook her head, not sure what came next. “You should get some sleep, let some of this gel.”
    “Actually, what I should do is leave,” he said bluntly. “I shouldn’t have come here. I just…It was instinct.”
    The fact that she found that even the slightest bit flattering just went to show how thoroughly she’d been into him. And also that she was her mother’s daughter.
    “If you leave, I doubt you’ll get far,” she said dryly.
    His eyes went to the window, even though she’d drawn the curtain earlier, blocking out the night. “You’re probably right. I’ve endangered you by coming here. Whether I leave or not, you’ll still be a target.”
    A chill swept over her. “I was talking about the fact that I doubt you’d make it far without collapsing, given the concussion, bullet wound and blood loss.” But he was right about the other, too, she knew. People were looking for him. Regardless of who found him first, she was going to be in serious trouble. If the task force found out she’d hidden him, Percy would have his excuse to fire her. If the terrorists found him, they were both dead.
    She should turn him in, to Fax or someone she trusted. But what if the blood on his clothing had come from the dead agents? Even Fax was on a witch hunt to cull all the conspirators from the federal ranks, and none of her friends had thought much of Romo in the wake of the breakup. Could she truly trust them to believe in him the way she did?
    Damn it, she didn’t know what to do, and she hated not knowing what came next. She’d grown up in a family that had been in a constant state of flux, with her father coming and going depending on where her parents had been in the cycle of him cheating, her kicking him out, him repenting and her forgiving him. Over and over again.
    “You’re a doctor?” Romo asked, no doubt because she’d just predicted he’d fall on his face if he tried to leave now.
    “I’m—” She broke off, struck anew by just how odd it was for him to be meeting her for the first time all over again, after they’d been as intimate as two people could possibly be. Or at least as intimate as he’d let them be. “I’m the chief ME of Bear Claw City,” she said, andeven she heard the quiet ring of pride in the words. And why not? The job might not be hers for much longer, but for now she could claim the prestigious title.
    He whistled. “Impressive.” He frowned for a moment, thinking.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s just that it’s true, you know. You’re in danger now because I came here.”
    “I have friends who could help.”
    Romo’s expression went instantly shuttered. “Don’t tell any of them that I’m here. Don’t even hint it. Promise me.”
    His sudden intensity sent a spear of worry through her. “Why not?”
    “I don’t want to endanger them the same way I’ve endangered you,” he said, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that.
    “They’re all cops and agents, Romo. They can handle themselves.” She wasn’t as sure as she sounded, though. The memory of his funeral was too close to the surface. She couldn’t bear to think of reliving the experience for Chelsea, Fax or any of the others.
    “Promise me,” he repeated, reaching out as though he wanted to touch her, though they were a room apart. “Promise you’ll give me the night to remember. Promise me we’ll talk again before you do anything.”
    They stared at each other for a long moment while the air thickened with things said and unsaid, and with too many questions. Finally, unable to deal with the pressure