“So do women like Victoria,” Delilah added.
He took a step back at that. “Yes, well, now I need to live with my decisions. Because Victoria Whitney was given the same kind of access to that manuscript.”
“Bernard will turn up,” Abe said firmly. “And when he does, he will go to prison for a very long time.”
“And in the meantime, Codex has restored a tiny amount of justice. We have world-renowned astronomers here this evening who have told me this book is the reason why they became interested in our galaxy. School children will be here later this month for private viewings, to learn about the power of the brightest star in our sky.” He bade us farewell after that.
And as we walked down the stairs toward the curb, there was nothing I wanted more than to hold Delilah’s hand.
“Freya and I will be in the office tomorrow,” Abe said. “Come in if you’d like. If not, take a well-deserved day off.”
Freya gave Delilah a hug and clapped me on the shoulder. “See you on Monday?” Her gaze was quizzical, like she was puzzling something out. And when she looked back at Delilah, there was resignation there.
“Of course,” I said. Delilah and I both said good night to Abe and Freya, and I was grateful when they decided to share a cab home.
As soon as the taillights disappeared into traffic, Delilah turned to me and said, “My former coworker Margaret found me tonight. She’s bringing a lawsuit against Mark for manipulating her and lying to human resources to gain promotions.”
“You’re serious?”
Delilah nodded. “I told her I’d provide testimony. Public testimony.”
She stepped into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, filled with relief that I could touch her, hold her, caress her. Filled with happiness that she was fighting back in a way that made her proud. “The world is lucky to have you, Delilah Barrett.”
She lifted her head up, chin pressed to my chest. “Even Francisco was fooled by Bernard. You weren’t the only one.”
I knew she’d get it. “I think I can finally let it go.”
“Working at Codex, you mean?” Her eyebrows knotted together.
“No,” I said. “No, I want to work here. I mean that I’ve allowed Bernard to control me long enough. He was controlling me for ten years without my knowledge. I took this job because of him. I went after Victoria because of him. Maybe it’s time I do this job for me.”
A kind of peace came over her. “Take me home.”
My arm was raised to hail a taxi before she even finished the sentence. I knew we needed to talk. I knew whatever we were about to embark on couldn’t exist within our current reality.
But maybe we could have one more night.
51
Henry
Delilah didn’t seem to want to talk—not on the ride to my house, not when we walked through the door, not as she took my hand and led me slowly up the stairs to my bedroom. She kept the lights dim, allowing the glimmering moonlight to shine through the windows, painting my room silver. With her back toward me, she turned over her shoulder—allowing me a glimpse of that classical profile.
“Sit,” she instructed.
I sat.
Back still toward me, she reached behind and untied the knot holding her dress up. The material parted away from her spine, curving like the bow of a cello, revealing her skin in a slow, sensuous tease. With refined grace, Delilah hooked her fingers into the sides of her dress and slid the material over her hips, a private striptease, just for me.
With a sly grin, she dropped the material to the floor. She was left in sheer panties and black stilettos. I could barely swallow—my cock was so hard I could feel it pressing against my zipper.
When she turned all the way around, I was presented with an almost nude Delilah, shining with moonlight, eyes honest and face open. Whatever had happened between us, whatever had been holding her back—even slightly—had vanished. Delilah came to me like a vision, and as I curved my fingers up the back of her thighs, I could only stare up at her in wonder.
This woman had taken out half of Victoria’s guards without batting an eye. Had stared down an armed psychopath with nary a tremor. Was about to fight back against the man who had tried to steal her bravery.
But he hadn’t succeeded. If there was one thing I was learning, it was to never, ever underestimate Delilah Barrett.
She stroked her fingers through my hair, caressing each curl.
“Any man that doesn’t realize your love is a privilege is a goddamn fool,” I said before I could stop myself.
I felt her shudder. Then her fingers, tugging off my tie gently. “I trust you, Henry.” She lifted my head.
“I trust you too.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Tonight, I want you bare. No barriers. No Thornhills.”
“I’m clean,” I said against her belly.
“Me too. And protected.” Her fingers caressed my cheeks.
“Take what you want,” I rasped. “You can have it all.”
Delilah nodded and dropped the tie into my palm. Closed my fingers around it. “Didn’t you once tell me you’d tie me to your bed and fuck me for days?”
I was stripped of speech. My palms on the back of her thighs slid up to her ass—yanked her hard into my body. She smirked.
“You want me to tie your beautiful wrists to this bed?” I asked in a rough voice.
“Please.” In her eyes was an alluring combination of challenge and submission—and I was the luckiest man alive to tie this goddess to my bed. My head was between her legs, mouth covering her mound, tongue gliding along her slit through the wet fabric.
“Why do you smell so fucking good.” It was no question—more a curse, an acceptance. I growled against her clit, gripping her waist, holding her still for my worship. I plucked the sides of her panties between my fingers and dragged the silky fabric down her thighs, exposing the glistening lips of her pussy. I licked my tongue inside her cunt.
“Oh, yes,” she crooned. I explored deeper stroking my tongue until her legs shook. I scooped her up and threw her back onto the bed with more force than I meant, but she only spread her legs wide for me.
My belt hit the floor with a thwap. Then my pants, my vest. Down slid my white shirt—every item of clothing came off until I was naked and fisting myself in front of Delilah’s hungry eyes.
I dropped to the bed and prowled up her body with deliberate intent. She backed all the way up and presented her wrists with an innocence I found wickedly deceitful. I took her panties, bound them around her wrists, secured the material to the bars on the bed.
“Okay?” I whispered against her lips.
“Perfect,” she assured me.
I wrenched her knees open, pressing them as wide as they could go. “I’m going to fuck you until you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are mine.”
I dragged the head of my dick through her folds, right against her clit—sliding, grinding, applying the right amount of pressure to have her head thrown back in submission. I palmed both of her breasts, rolling her nipples as she squirmed.
“Mine,” I said.
I gripped her waist, lifted the entirety of her lower body off the bed. Wrapped her legs around my head and fluttered my tongue against her clit.
“Mine.”
Suspended in the air, Delilah let out a series of wails that increased in volume as I lavished her clit with my tongue—bringing her right up to the edge before stopping.
I dropped her back to the bed. Kissed up every single inch of her body, from her ankles to her mouth, an exploration of details I didn’t want to miss—details I couldn’t believe I hadn’t focused on before: the splash of freckles on her belly, the curve of her ribcage, the rounded softness of her shoulders, the rippling strength of her thighs. Fingers, tongue, lips, teeth—I cataloged this woman’s body with the devotion of a scholar.
And by the time I reached her mouth, she was gasping with pleasure.
I entered her body with shallow st
rokes, gliding both hands to entwine with hers on the headboard. My hips moved between her legs with a luxury born of understanding—that we could have all the time in the world to discover the depths of our feelings.
Because in that moment, sharing a breath, hearts beating as one, I knew what I had to do tomorrow. Knew it and embraced it.
I gave her a kiss that had us both gasping, groaning when her heels dug into the small of my back with each thrust. She was softly chanting “yours, yours, yours” as I used my teeth to mark the spot between her throat and her shoulder, uniting us with the same sweet bite. Her chants became cries and her cries became loud, keening moans. Her internal muscles were squeezing my cock so tightly I knew she was close. Keeping one hand with hers, I let my other hand land on her clit, massaging her in tight circles as my thrusts grew frenzied, wild, out of control. The headboard smacked against the wall, the bed shook, and I poured every piece of myself into this moment, this time, this glimpse at paradise.
Delilah and I climaxed together, in a kind of erotic harmony I’d never experienced before in my life. I pressed our mouths together as I rode out our dual orgasms. When the aftershocks had finally abated—when we were nothing but a panting, sweating, tangled mess of limbs—I untied her bound wrists. Pulled her into my body, needing her as close as she could be. Her blue-green eyes shone in the darkness.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Mhmmm,” she hummed, clinging to my chest.
I grinned against her neck, fully understanding the permanent shift that had occurred between us. The fact that I’d even briefly entertained the notion that Delilah and I could work together at Codex—and also have a romantic relationship—was ludicrous. They couldn’t coexist.
I’d made a living out of cataloging the tiniest of details in the oldest of books—appreciating each mistake and flaw, each poetic line and brilliant page, because that was what told the story. Love could be expressed through these tiny details, through gestures, through actions.
It told the story. It was the story. I recognized the massive poignancy of Abe, bringing his staff donuts because he struggled to say well done. Of Freya, staying up all night, bringing Delilah tacos so she wouldn’t get hungry on stakeouts. Francisco, admitting he’d been fooled by Bernard as easily as I: friendship, trust, connection.
I was falling in love with the woman I held in my arms. And I needed a way to show her.
“Delilah?” I whispered. She was snoring softly, already asleep.
Which was fine—she’d only try and talk me out of it anyway.
I slept deeply that night, Delilah wrapped around me, the sweet feel of her skin sliding against mine as she shifted and dreamed. When I woke, my decision felt hard—but also easy. Relieved, I turned over in the bed. Only to find it empty.
Delilah was gone.
52
Delilah
Abe glanced up from his computer with a look of concern. Freya had given me a comforting smile when I’d come in, noting the piece of paper in my hand. But I wasn’t nervous or scared. Unlike that day two years ago, I wasn’t walking into a room with a man who had manipulated me to do his bidding.
I was making my own decision. And I trusted how this story was going to end.
“I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he said. “Especially so early.”
I clicked his door shut. Sat primly in the chair across from his desk.
“I need to talk to you.”
Brow furrowed, he sat up straighter. “Go ahead.”
I searched my body for signs of uncertainty but found none. “When you hired Henry, I figured he’d be a research assistant, hidden away in an office somewhere. I didn’t think he could do fieldwork. I definitely didn’t think he could go undercover. And when we became partners, I was certain we were doomed.”
Abe was silent, watching me with wary eyes.
“I know all of that to be untrue now. Henry Finch is a brilliant detective who took to undercover work like a natural. You won’t find a lot of people like him. Or anyone, to be exact. I believe him to be one of a kind.”
I placed the sheet of paper down on the desk.
“That night at Victoria’s mansion, I instigated us going against your direct orders,” I said, comfortable with the half-lie. Henry might have initially suggested it, but I hadn’t stopped it. “I was the veteran, technically in charge, and I pushed us into a situation that was dangerous and out of control. I put Codex at risk and Henry at risk.”
I slid the paper, faceup, toward him.
“For your consideration,” I continued, “here is my letter of resignation from Codex. Effective immediately.”
“Are you firing yourself?” His face was cold.
“I believe Henry is level-headed, calm, and can charm anyone in a room. He’s a better fit here.”
“All of those words are words I would use to describe you as well.”
“Thank you,” I said, chest starting to pinch. I hadn’t fully allowed myself to imagine going about my days without seeing Abe and Freya. It almost threw me off course, but I soldiered on. “This job has been the best two years of my professional life. After what happened, I thought I’d never love a job again, believe in myself again. But you took a chance on me and gave me an opportunity I will always be grateful for. You taught me that the book is always the most important. Here, at Codex, Henry is the most important.”
Abe picked up my letter and gave it a cursory glance. One eyebrow lifted, like the sight of it was personally offensive. “You still haven’t told me why you believe you and Henry cannot work here, together.”
“Because I have feelings for Henry,” I blurted. “Romantic feelings.” I clutched at the armchair, steadying myself. “I’m falling in love with Henry and I refuse to hide it. But I highly doubt you would approve of two of your employees dating, especially after your experiences in the FBI. That means, in order for Henry and me to be together, one of us can’t be at Codex.”
After a long, painful silence, he put the paper down onto his desk. “I see. You are sacrificing yourself for Henry?”
I exhaled, the answer filling me with complete and total happiness. “It’s no sacrifice.”
That had his eyes locking on mine in disbelief. He knew how much I craved this job.
“Do you…accept my resignation?”
“I have a phone call in one minute,” he said brusquely. “I will be in touch with you later today.” He turned back toward his computer, but I could see the muscles of his throat working.
“Oh,” I said, standing up awkwardly. “Well, okay.”
Abe didn’t respond. So I stood and opened his door—regardless of what he said, at least I could walk out of here with steady legs and a clear conscience. The first thing I saw was Freya, staring wide-eyed at me like I’d suddenly grown a pair of wings and a horn. She was trying very hard not to laugh.
“What is it?” I said.
And that’s when I saw Henry. He was dressed sharply in a navy-blue suit, yellow tie, glasses. And he was holding a piece of paper that looked suspiciously like my own.
Abe walked out. Saw Henry, staring at me. Freya, staring at us both. And the paper in Henry’s hand.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Abe sighed wearily. “What’s in your hand, Henry?”
I could see Henry attempt to puzzle out the bizarre scene unfolding before him. “I’d really rather talk to you in your…”
“What is it?” Abe repeated.
“My resignation letter.” Abe was standing between us, but our eyes were locked together.
My jaw dropped.
That was why Freya seemed like she was about to lose her shit.
“Am I being pranked?” Abe said this in a deadly, quiet tone.
“What?” Henry asked.
I leaned my back against the wall, trying to rein in my thoughts.
Abe glowered back and forth between the two of us. “Well? Am I?”
“Why would I prank you by resigning?” I as
ked. When Henry heard the words, his expression mirrored my own.
Abe pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something beneath his breath. “Get in here,” he barked.
I exchanged a crazed glance with Freya, who shrugged and mouthed What do we do?
But then Abe was slamming the door behind me.
“Sit. Both of you.”
He picked up Henry’s letter of resignation, picked up mine. Scanned them both quickly. I didn’t dare look at Henry. Abe placed them down on the desk gingerly, like he was worried they’d shatter.
“Tell me why you think you need to resign, Henry,” Abe said.
“I purposefully withheld information from you and Freya, the night of the party. I knew—or thought I knew—about the secret hallways and recognized that by bringing them to Delilah’s attention, we’d likely go against your orders. Which I pushed her to do so, fairly emphatically. I believe all of those behaviors indicate that I’m not a fit, moving forward.” Henry took a shaky breath. “As much as I’d love to stay.”
Abe tap-tap-tapped his index finger on the letter. “And is there any other reason?”
Henry cleared his throat. “Yes, there is. The other reason is because of my feelings for Delilah.”
I turned fully in my chair, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Henry.
Abe’s nostrils flared with annoyance. He rapped his knuckles on the desk.
“And why you, and not her?” he asked.
“Because she’s the most talented detective you’ve ever worked with,” Henry said, as if it was blatantly obvious.
Another sharp rap.
“Did you plan this?”
“No,” I promised. “I didn’t tell him because I assumed he’d talk me out of it.”
Henry’s lips lifted into a smile. “I assumed the same.”
And thankfully Henry didn’t say what would have naturally come next: I woke up this morning after a night of passionate sex and you were missing from my bed.
Abe steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair, as if he was our tribunal. “Two of my talented agents are willing to leave their jobs because of your commitment both to each other but also to Codex.”
Behind the Veil Page 30