She didn’t look away. “Neither do you.”
“No.” He pushed himself upright and folded his arms across his chest. “Just fucking no.”
Chloe let out a breath, trying to hold onto her patience. This was their best idea, couldn’t he see that? She really had no idea whether de Santis would harm her or not, but she couldn’t see him trying anything if they were somewhere public. And it was a way better option than Van trying to put a bullet through his brain, if that’s what he was really intending on doing.
“He’s not going to talk to you, obviously,” she went on, trying logic this time. “And you said yourself that he wants to see his daughter. So why not let him? Perhaps he really does want to talk to me.”
But the look on Van’s face was forbidding, every inch of him the SEAL commander. “You’re not going, Chloe. And that’s final.”
She bit on her lip, studying him. Okay, he was supposed to be protecting her, and letting her throw herself at the enemy wasn’t exactly doing that. But if his alternative was seriously him and Lucas and a bullet, she wasn’t going to let him do that, either.
“Van,” she said quietly. “This makes sense. What’s the big deal?”
His jaw hardened even more. “The big deal? You getting killed is the big deal.”
“De Santis doesn’t want me dead, you know that. Then I’d be no use to him at all.”
That muscle jumped in the side of his jaw again, his expression like stone, not giving an inch.
Chloe reached out, her hands settling on his hips, bringing him closer, attempting to ease his tension with her warmth. “The quicker we know what de Santis is after, the quicker we can neutralize him. And then I can get back to the ranch, and you can get back to the military.” She slid her palms back up to his chest again, stroking him. “Don’t you want that?”
He cursed under his breath and suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her close, holding her tight. “You can’t be at risk, Chloe. I won’t allow it.”
“Why not? What do you think’s going to happen?”
The look on his face changed, an expression flickering through it she couldn’t read. There was something more going on here, she could feel it.
“What is it?” she asked when he didn’t speak, keeping her hands where they were, pressed to his skin. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
He was quiet for a long moment, just staring down at her, the strong lines of his face drawn tight and intense. “I had to protect a woman once, a few years ago.” His voice was strangely flat. “I can’t tell you the details because they’re classified, but it was a mission that went wrong and I ended up on the run with a terrified civilian who I not only had to get to trust me, but to believe I would protect her no matter what.” There was no gold in his eyes now. They were straight-up green as glass. “I got her trust. I told her I’d protect her, that nothing would happen to her. That she was safe.… And she died, Chloe.” Anguish flickered briefly in his gaze. “I failed to protect her and she died.”
Her chest tightened, her throat constricting, that glimpse of pain making her whole body go cold. “When? How?”
“A stray bullet in a firefight she should never have even been in. And I think you can probably guess when.”
And she could. All of a sudden, she could. “Eight years ago.”
He nodded, his arms still tight around her. “I didn’t tell anyone, most especially not Dad. Couldn’t even broach the topic. He never wanted to hear about bad grades or failures. He only wanted to know about the victories. The A-pluses. The wins. And a dead girl was definitely not a win.”
She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t known or even sensed something had been up with him the last time he’d come back to the ranch, since she’d been so consumed with avoiding him because of that stupid crush. And no wonder he hadn’t told their dad. It was definitely not the kind of thing Noah ever wanted to hear.
Spreading her hands wide on his chest, she leaned in, resting her head on his warm skin, fitting her body more closely against his. “You tried, Van. But how could you guard against a stray bullet in a firefight? That sounds like bad luck, not failure.”
He said nothing, his arms like iron bands around her, and for a long moment there was only silence. Then he said, “I promised her she’d be safe. I couldn’t keep that promise. But I’ll keep it for you, pretty. I swear it.”
It was terrible that he’d lost someone he was supposed to protect, and it made her hurt for him. But there was a hard, sure note in his voice that, underneath it all, made her feel like a thirsty plant finally being given rain. As if this was a promise set in stone, unlike all the other promises she’d been given.
And maybe it was only because he’d failed this other woman that he was so driven to protect her. Or maybe it was because that no matter what he said, he was still holding himself to the standards Noah had taught him. But Chloe liked to think this mattered to him because he actually cared about her. Hell, he’d told her about something personal he’d told no one else, and that had to count for something, didn’t it?
“I know you will,” she said quietly, sliding her hands down to his waist and around him, holding him as tightly as he was holding her. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” The word was absolutely final.
Okay then. He didn’t want to talk about it, that was clear.
“Well,” she murmured, “you should know that when I meet de Santis, I’ll feel a whole lot safer with you near me.”
He stiffened. “Chloe—”
She looked up. “There’s not going to be a firefight in the middle of New York. And you’ll be somewhere nearby, waiting to rescue me if it all goes bad. But I am going to meet him, Van. I’m the reason we’re in this mess in the first place and I have to do something. No, I’m not a SEAL, but I’m also not stupid.”
Again he was quiet, staring down into her face, the expression in his eyes hard and forbidding and dangerous as hell. He was a man who liked to be in control and what she was asking of him was going to be very difficult.
“I trust you to keep me safe,” she said softly. “Now you have to trust me to look after myself.”
* * *
She was curled around him, pressed up against him, naked and hot, her dark eyes fierce, her chin at a stubborn angle. Trust her to keep herself safe …
He didn’t want to. He couldn’t.
You didn’t even tell her the truth.
Yeah, and he wasn’t going to. He never thought about it, hadn’t told anyone about it, and he wasn’t about to start now.
The problem was, her plan to meet de Santis was actually a good one. That asshole wanted to see her, so who better to get information out him than her? His team was fairly certain they’d accounted for all the stock and that de Santis definitely didn’t have enough to stage a takeover, but there was an element of uncertainty about the whole situation that Van didn’t like. If it was possible for Chloe to get close enough to ask the guy a few questions, then logically that was a good move.
Also, she was right about one other thing too. All the shots had been called by de Santis so far, forcing them to have to scramble to catch up and that was, quite frankly, un-fucking-acceptable.
They had to take charge of this and now.
Except that would mean putting Chloe on the line.
Everything in him rebelled at the thought. No, he hadn’t wanted to protect her, had been furious at being given the responsibility, but he’d been given it all the same and protect her he would. He refused to accept any other possibility.
But if he went with her plan, it was going to be her safety on the line. No, he didn’t think de Santis would actually physically hurt her, but he wouldn’t put it past that guy to try something else. Take her hostage so he could use her to force Van to give him controlling share of the company, for example.
Shit, it made him cold just thinking about Chloe being in the hands of that icy-eyed bastard.
She�
�d be safer with him than with you.
The cold crept deeper inside him, despite the warmth of her body, a small kernel of ice sitting in the pit of his stomach. She was looking at him like she wanted an answer, and he knew he had to give her one. Yeah, he wanted to say no, pick her up, and carry her into the bedroom, maybe lock the door to keep her in there. Make sure she stayed there.
But that wouldn’t solve this and he knew it. He wanted to get back to base and she needed to get back to the ranch, and neither of them could do that until de Santis had been dealt with.
With a bullet.
Yeah, well, there was always that option. Except he wasn’t into cold-blooded murder, no matter how attractive the option might be or how easily it would solve everything. Of course, if that bastard ended up doing something to her, then all bets were off …
You’d kill for her? Really?
“Van,” Chloe’s voice was husky and warm, distracting him. “You know it makes sense. And apart from anything else, I want to help. You can’t take this all on yourself.”
Of course he could, and he did, regularly. Yet, he couldn’t deny that some part of him liked how she wanted to share the burden, as if it wasn’t just him for a change. He was used to carrying the load—as a commander, that’s what he did. But shit … he had to admit it was nice to know he wasn’t alone.
She’ll still be in the line of fire if you agree.
Van met the fierce look in her dark eyes. She was small and slender, and there was an aching vulnerability to her that made his heart clench tight. But she was also surprisingly strong, with a will and a stubborn nature just as powerful as his. Christ, she’d managed the goddamn ranch and a whole lot of staff, on her own for years, and that took guts. That took determination and resourcefulness.
She wasn’t a terrified woman held captive for years by sex traffickers like Sofia had been.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “You have a point. But we’re going to do this my way, understand?”
She grinned, and he felt it like the sun coming up after a cold dark winter. “You really think you’re still in charge here?”
He didn’t smile back. He couldn’t. Because something inside him had shifted like an earthquake and now the ground was all broken and uneven and unfamiliar. And he didn’t recognize himself anymore.
You are so screwed. You know that right?
“Oh pretty.…” He slid his hands into her hair, curling his fingers around the soft, silky locks, paying no attention to the voice in his head that he thought was probably right. “I don’t think, I know.”
The flame in her eyes leapt high. “Want to bet?”
“Show me then,” he murmured. “Show me how in charge you really are.”
She tilted her head to the side, looking at him, that sunrise smile lighting her up from the inside, making her glow like a torch.
Then without another word, she reached up and brought his mouth down on hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chloe couldn’t tear her gaze from the windows as the taxi pulled up outside Rockefeller Center. Beside her, Van muttered something to the driver, but she really wasn’t listening, too busy staring at the building that reared up into the night sky above her.
It was all a little weird to be here, at the building in her snow globe. A strange choice of place to meet de Santis, maybe, but she’d thought it was fitting to meet him, her real father, at the place that signified all those empty promises she’d gotten from Noah.
Van had sent de Santis an email that morning telling him exactly where Chloe would be and what time, making it sound like he was giving in to his ultimatum. De Santis had insisted that he meet with Chloe alone—which Van had balked at in a major way. But after she’d convinced him that de Santis probably wouldn’t tell them anything if Van was in the vicinity, he’d grudgingly agreed to it.
She understood his reluctance, especially after what he’d told her the night before, about the woman he’d failed to save. But this wasn’t the same. De Santis wasn’t going to hurt her, she was sure of it. It wouldn’t be in his interests to do so and besides, it would soon become pretty clear what he wanted once they’d met, and if he intended to do something sketchy, Van would be around to make sure she was okay. He would protect her, and she trusted he would. Sure, he hadn’t managed to save that woman, but it sounded like a hell of a situation and one that wasn’t his fault in any case. It also was not going to happen this time around.
“Are you ready?” Van’s deep voice was quiet.
She turned, meeting his clear hazel gaze. “Yes.” Okay, so she was a little nervous about this—maybe more than a little—but she could handle herself.
“I won’t be far away. If he does anything—and I mean anything—you give me the signal, okay?”
Something flickered in his eyes, something that looked a hell of a lot like apprehension. And for some reason it made her feel warm inside that he was worried for her.
Don’t get too excited. You know this isn’t going anywhere even if you do get out of this.
Chloe shook the thought away. Of course this affair wasn’t going anywhere, she knew that. But she could be pleased that he cared about her enough to be afraid for her, surely?
“Yes,” she said aloud. “Got it.” They’d already worked out the signal that would alert Van if she felt in danger.
“He won’t be alone, you know that, right? He’s likely to have men around him, though you probably won’t be able to spot them. Just be aware they’re there.”
“I know, Van. We went through this, remember?” And they had, numerous times before coming out.
That betraying muscle ticked in his jaw again. “Just making sure.” He narrowed his gaze at her, then reached out to pull up the hood of the sweatshirt she was wearing for warmth underneath her leather jacket. “It’s cold out. Stay warm.”
He was sitting half-turned toward her, one hand on the back seat near her head, the other resting on one muscled thigh. He’d changed before they’d come out, into jeans and a long-sleeved tee, with a black hooded sweatshirt and his overcoat over the top. He too had the hood pulled over his head, his features shadowed, but she could still see that apprehension there, tightening the lines of his face.
Impulsively she put her hand over his where it rested on his thigh, loving the little electric spark that leapt between them as her skin touched his. “It’ll be okay,” she said, wanting to reassure him. “I’ll be fine.”
He let out a breath and turned his hand over almost absently, interlacing their fingers. “You fucking better be, understand?”
That he didn’t even pretend not to be worried made her heart tighten strangely, and she wanted to say something that was more than just a paltry “I will.” But she didn’t know what else to say, so all she did was smile and squeeze his fingers in return.
He didn’t smile back, only stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. Then his gaze flickered to the building beyond the taxi’s windows. “Okay then, let’s go.”
Outside it was cold, the wind whipping around her, cutting through the leather of her jacket, a swirl of snowflakes gusting in the air.
Holy shit. She was honest to god standing in her snow globe.
Ignoring the crowds of people pushing past her on the sidewalk, she tilted her head back. Looking up into the sky and the building towering above her, an odd thought occurred.
Had Noah stood here? Had he tipped his head back and looked up at that building? Had he felt the same odd vertigo she did? He’d told her once that he loved tall buildings, that they were a sign of what a man could do if he really put his mind to it—create something much larger and more lasting than himself.
Like Noah created the Tate legacy.
Chloe wiped the snow out of her eyes as she stared up at the building. Yeah, it kind of made sense in a way. The Tate legacy was Noah Tate’s equivalent of building Rockefeller Center. He’d wanted to create something bigger and more lasting than himself
.
Pity that it had come at the expense of his relationship with his adopted kids.
“Big projects require commitment, Chloe,” he’d told her once, when he’d first gotten her to help with planning a massive new breeding program for the ranch. “You can’t be half-assed about it.”
He hadn’t been. He’d put his legacy first and everything else had come a close second, including the kids. But that wasn’t their fault, was it? That was his.
“Hey,” Van’s deep voice was in her ear and she could feel his warmth at her back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She turned around. He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his overcoat, his gaze flicking around at the crowds surrounding them, his big body held tense, as if expecting an attack at any second. He had his hood pulled up, hiding his strong, handsome features to prevent anyone from recognizing him, and she knew—because she’d seen him pick it up before they left—that he had a gun hidden somewhere on him.
Tough. Dangerous. Hot.
“You keep asking me that.” She held his gaze steadily. “It’s enough to give a girl doubts.”
The hard look on his face didn’t ease. “Just checking. Come on. The ice rink’s in that direction.”
She wanted to tell him her little epiphany about Noah, that they weren’t to blame for the way he’d parented them, neither of them were, but there wasn’t time. So instead she only nodded.
He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as if it was the most natural thing in the world, sending a small shock through her. It felt intimate, meaningful in some way, and part of her was wary of that. But she didn’t want to take her hand from his, so she didn’t, enjoying the warmth of his fingers around hers instead, letting him lead her toward the rink.
She’d decided on the spot to meet de Santis, another nod to her snow globe and to Noah. And it was a good place too, very public, with crowds of people clustered around watching the skaters.
As they approached the rail that ran around the rink, a couple of people turned away, leaving some space for them to stand.
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