Free Hard Target by Tibby Armstrong Page B

her computer and she into mine around the same time. That was an interesting conversation to say the least.”
    Alex remembered the red rose on her pillow. The words, Change your password, Agent Valentine on the accompanying card. He’d come over that night with a bottle of wine and they’d talked until dawn, then made love well past sunrise.
    “I was going to ask her to marry me the night of my arrest. Over takeout Chinese and a bottle of pinot noir.” His laugh was self-deprecating. “Romantic, huh?”
    Alex suppressed a gasp. Günter didn’t say anything, merely reached into the fridge and popped open another beer before setting it down in front of Simon.
    God, he really sounded innocent. Either he believed what he said, or he was an amazingly good liar. And a sociopath too. Alex sat up on her elbow. “If I got you access to your old laptop, do you think you could hack into it? Figure out who did this to you?”
    Draping his arm over the back of his chair, Simon faced her. Gun seemed to recede farther into the shadows.
    Sitting fully upright, she pushed her hair behind her shoulders. “I wouldn’t offer if I was the one who set you up.”
    “You testified against me,” he said.
    “If you really are innocent, I want to know who did this to you. Who did this to us.” Even she didn’t understand what made her willing to let him prove himself now. After all these years.
    Simon stood and crossed to the bed. Alex examined the shadows obscuring his face and wondered at his thoughts.
    “I already know who did this to us.” He shook his head. “You.”
    Covers tangled around her legs and she had to push them aside to stand. In the kitchen, Günter took a long sip of his beer and watched her and Simon as they faced off.
    “If what you say is true, I’ll get your name cleared.”
    “You can’t give me my life back. You can’t return what I lost.” He took her in with a sadness of expression that extinguished any remaining hope he’d forgive her.
    “I know.” She grasped his hand and gave it a quick squeeze before he pulled his hand away. “I just need to know. For me too. Maybe then we can move on.”
    And maybe then you won’t hate me.
    Günter stood and moved to the door. Neither Alex nor Simon heeded his leave-taking as the latch clicked softly shut behind him.
    “Do you really believe me?” he asked.
    Alex plumbed the depths of her emotions and came up with the same conflicting feelings she’d had on the subject, almost from the beginning. This time, however, something made her want to believe in him.
    “At first…” she began, then shook her head. He didn’t need to know about her interrogation. The questions they’d asked her and how she’d responded. He only needed to hear how she felt now, and she needed to be honest. “I’m willing to take a look at the evidence.”
    Simon stepped away.
    “Come to bed,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a couch.”
    “Or a headboard to cuff me to,” she muttered.
    He gave a wry snort and stripped off his jeans.
    His naked ass drew her stare. Holy hell, without a change of underwear today he’d gone commando at her place. “I can sleep on the floor…”
    “Alex.” Jeans in his hand, he faced her in all his masculine glory. “I promise not to touch you. Just let’s go to bed.”
    She couldn’t lift her gaze from the length of him nestled against his testicles. Her fingers curled with the urge to grasp him and feel him harden in her palm. “Are you sure?”
    He tugged on his pajama bottoms, hiding himself from view. “I’m sure.”
    Disappointment sent her tummy into a freefall, but she nodded and crossed to the bed. Still wearing her clothes minus her bra, reluctant to touch any of those clothes from her past life at least for tonight, she crawled under the covers and moved to the far side of the mattress. The bed swayed with her movement and she relished the gentle motion with a sigh. Simon climbed in and the bed swayed