by Kim Baldwin
“Why? Am I misbehaving?” Blayne said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Or am I being too honest?”
“Neither. You are just tipsy, tired, and in need of distraction.”
“Hmm. Slightly tipsy, maybe,” Blayne agreed. “But I know what I’m doing, or trying to do…and I’m obviously not getting through. What am I doing wrong? Is it because I’m a woman?”
Alexi tried to appear nonplussed by the question. Why the hell did I let her have any more wine? This cannot be happening. “Your gender is not relevant. Your mental and physical state is. It is not just the alcohol. It is the stress of the whole situation, also. Your judgment is impaired.”
“I may be tired and this whole situation may be insane, but my judgment is just fine,” Blayne argued.
“I beg to differ. If there were nothing wrong with your judgment you would not have given me such a hard time all the way here.” Alexi met Blayne’s eyes steadily, seeing an opportunity to convince her to finally accept her protection, and also to get the conversation diverted to another topic. “From the moment that we met I have been trying to persuade you to allow me to keep you alive, and I have actually saved your life, also. However you have done nothing but doubt my intentions. In my book, that is bad judgment.”
“I’ve had every reason to be suspicious of you,” Blayne replied testily. “Of anyone, considering what’s happened. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.” She cocked her head to one side, studying Alexi. “Why the hell can’t you handle a compliment?”
She is like a dog with a bone. How can I get her to stop? “As I said, I cannot trust your judgment. Besides, you are not in any position to be declaring an attraction, and I am not any position to be able to accept it.”
Blayne perked up at that statement. “So, if my condition and your situation were different, would that change anything?”
“I do not work with hypothetical situations. We need to concentrate on keeping you alive, and not indulge in pointless speculation.”
Her reply was a frustrating and vivid reminder to Blayne that Alexi didn’t see this as a romantic restaurant, full of possibilities. It was work. And she was on guard. Always. “Don’t you ever relax?”
“Only when I can afford to. And now is not that time. Your life is too high a price to pay for the sake of some fleeting experiment.” Perhaps that trivialization would hit home where common sense had so far failed.
Blayne barely seemed to register the comment. “Look, I’m certainly glad you take your job so seriously. But surely we’re safe now. Can we just have some fun? Even if it is just an…experiment.”
Alexi struggled to maintain her composure, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Blayne’s persistence was starting to have an effect on her physically. Oh, I understand exactly what you mean. And we certainly could have some fun together, if things were different. Lots and lots of fun. But I cannot let this continue.
“Listen to me. This happens all the time, witnesses being infatuated with the agents protecting them. Rather like a patient falling for her therapist. It will pass. Now, please finish your wine because we both need to get some rest.”
She snatched up the check and signaled the waiter they were ready to pay, hoping to forestall further conversation.
But Blayne was not about to let the topic rest after a comment like that. “Pardon me, but that’s just bullshit. I know damn well when I’m attracted to a woman, and I have since the age of fourteen.” Her anger was rising, and it was clear in her voice. “I understand if you’re not attracted to me, but don’t think that you know me and what and how I feel. You were hired to protect me, not to analyze me.”
Alexi knew there was truth in that statement. Perhaps she had indeed overstepped her bounds. But she was speaking from experience—several of the witnesses she had protected had come on to her, or developed crushes on her, men and women both. And it was entirely possible Blayne was falling into the same pattern.
Blayne apparently didn’t think so. And if she were truly honest with herself, Alexi might admit that it felt different to her, too. But there was no use acknowledging that. There was simply no way she would get involved with a witness again.
She kept her voice even, with some difficulty. “I am sorry if I’ve given you the impression that I am trying to analyze you and tell you what to feel. It was not my intention. And if I have insulted you in any way please accept my apologies.”
Her polite and totally emotionless answer only infuriated and frustrated Blayne even more. She felt like grabbing the WITSEC agent and planting a big kiss on her, telling her to analyze this, just to see if she could get a reaction, any reaction, because her words and her outright flirting weren’t doing the trick.
Yeah, maybe she’d do just that. She took another long sip of wine to steel her courage as Alexi paid the check.
*
He had stayed at his computer at the Chicago Joint Task Force on Organized Crime far longer than usual, hoping for more news on Blayne Keller and Alexi Nikolos. But to remain at his desk so long after his shift was risky under the circumstances. The graveyard-shift guys were starting to give him odd looks, so he finally gave up and headed home shortly before eleven p.m.
When he let himself in, his wife was putting the leash on their Jack Russell, who was whining for his nightly neighborhood stroll.
“Just in time,” she commented as she kissed him hello. “He was getting so impatient, I was about to take him out myself.”
“No need,” he said. “Come on, Frisco.” Still in his suit and tie, he headed out with the dog.
As he passed in front of a darkened storefront a quarter-mile from his home, a well-dressed man stepped out of the recessed entryway and fell into pace beside him. He masked his surprise and kept on walking. He had never seen the man before, but he knew immediately the voice would be familiar.
“Like clockwork. You are always so predictable,” the stranger said.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well I’m sure not here to join you for a romantic moonlit walk. We want to know why you haven’t contacted us.” The stranger suddenly veered off from the man’s usual route, so they would now be heading away from his house. Even the dog seemed momentarily surprised. “Act natural and keep on walking,” he said.
Reluctantly, the man followed. “I haven’t called because there is nothing to report. We don’t know where she is.”
“So you’re telling me your whole task force cannot track down one woman?”
“Yes. Exactly. She’s pulled out of the program. We’ve lost contact with her.” The dog stopped to do his business, and the men paused awkwardly, both of them glancing around. They were in a mixed area, part residential but with a few neighborhood businesses, all closed. There was sparse traffic, and no other pedestrians at that hour.
“But you will continue to look for her,” the man said, when they resumed walking. The inflection made it more statement than question.
“Yes. She’ll turn up.”
“We expect to be informed about her every move.”
“It’s very risky for me to contact you,” the man said. “I think they may be watching me. Or at least trying to find the leak.”
”We have paid you sufficiently to solve that problem,” the stranger said.
“Yes, you have. And you won’t let me forget it.”
“See to it, then. Now go home.”
The stranger continued on in the direction they were heading, and the man and his dog turned and headed back the way they had come.
*
The two miles back to the motel were not nearly long enough for Alexi to calm the inner stirrings of her body. She saw Blayne to their room and unlocked the door, but did not follow her inside.
“I have something to do,” she said from the threshold, and Blayne paused and turned around with a disappointed expression. “Please do not leave the room or make any phone calls. I will be close by, and back soon. Get some re
st.”
She left without giving Blayne a chance to object, but remained just outside the door for a long moment, in case Blayne was tempted to follow her. When she did not, Alexi headed to a place in the shadow of a large tree where she could wait, unobserved, in the darkness and still see the door to their room. She pulled the collar of her jacket up, and hugged her arms to her sides. She wished she had dressed more warmly now, but she was counting on the fact that the alcohol Blayne had consumed would put her to sleep before she got unbearably chilled.
What a nightmare. How the hell am I going to protect her, be with her day and night, with her trying to seduce me? This is torture.
Chapter Twelve
Alexi rubbed her eyes, trying to shrug off the drowsy aftereffects of a night spent tossing and turning, unable to sleep as she fought an inward battle of physical arousal versus mental resolve. When she’d returned to their motel room, she had found Blayne passed out, fully clothed, looking so innocent and vulnerable in slumber that it was all she could do not to touch her fingertips to the soft coppery strands of hair that rested against Blayne’s cheek. I’ll keep you safe.
The more she got to know Blayne, the more protective she felt toward her. She has had such a lot to go through. To endure all this with no family to support her, and now cut off from all that is familiar. No wonder, then, that she has developed an attachment for me, but that attraction is misplaced.
She kept reminding herself that was all that it was. Blayne was just naïve about what was going on. She would come to realize she was merely reaching out toward the one person who could make her feel safe. And then the infatuation would fade, as quickly as it had begun. Pity, too.
It would certainly make it easier for Alexi to focus on her job if Blayne wasn’t throwing herself at her the way she did last night. But Alexi also found herself lamenting the day that Blayne realized her feelings weren’t real but only transitory. Regretful we could not have met under different circumstances.
She didn’t care to examine why she was feeling somewhat wistful about this missed opportunity. She had enjoyed wonderful evenings with countless women, had sex pretty much any time she wanted it, and never before had wasted energy thinking about a woman she could not have. There was always another woman around the corner.
Alexi was beginning to feel restless to get back on the road. She glanced at her watch. Nine a.m. She’d give Blayne another half-hour. The Straights of Mackinac were populated by the colorful sails of a half-dozen sailboats of various sizes and types. Looking out over the water once again, she recalled their evening, and Blayne’s blatant flirting. I wonder if she will remember everything she did. She was getting pretty intoxicated there toward the end. And even more than that, she wondered whether Blayne would try to pick up where she left off.
Blayne replayed the night before in her head as she studied Alexi in profile. She was, at turns, chagrined by her bold behavior and excited by the memory of how Alexi had made her feel. She still couldn’t believe that she’d fallen asleep waiting for Alexi to return to the room, even with her frustration boiling over. She had been there, all primed and ready to go, all set to finally taste those lips she had stared at all night, and before she’d even realized what was happening, she was alone. Fuuuck.
Now it was morning and her head hurt like a sonofabitch. She winced at the bright light streaming into the room. Alexi was standing at the window looking out over the water. And this morning, the alluring Inspector was certainly a feast for the eyes, dressed in tight, hip-hugging jeans and a red, long-sleeved form-fitting T-shirt. It was an entirely casual ensemble, but it showed off Alexi’s sculpted body so well that Blayne found it to be extremely sexy.
Such a nice ass you have there. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.
The events of the night before came rushing back again, this time with stark clarity. Oh shit. I didn’t. She pondered what Alexi had said. An understandable infatuation, my eye. I know what I feel. And it’s no patient-therapist kind of thing. The idea that Alexi had had witnesses get crushes on her before stirred a twinge of something unfamiliar in Blayne, something unsettling. I bet people are throwing themselves at her all the time, on and off the job. So why would I expect her to think this is any different?
But it was different. For Blayne, anyway. Drunk or sober, she found Alexi very compelling, and she was unabashedly staring at Alexi’s ass when that beautiful face turned in her direction.
Alexi knew she should totally ignore Blayne’s blatant ogling. Acknowledging it would only likely encourage more bold flirtations. But the lingering, appreciative look felt like a caress, and she had to turn away while she got her body under control. “Good morning. We should get going soon.”
“Okay. I won’t be long.” I’m not at all done with you, yet, Blayne thought, as she got out of bed and headed off for a long, hot shower. Or maybe, she mused ruefully, a cold one would do her more good. Nope, not done with you by a long shot. Just let me get rid of this headache, so I can figure out a way to get through to you.
There was an awkward silence between them while they packed up their meager belongings and headed for the Prizm. “Are you ready for some breakfast?” Alexi inquired as they buckled up.
“Oh, God, no. No food.” Blayne winced. “But coffee would definitely be appreciated. Mass quantities of coffee. Intravenously, if possible.”
Alexi smiled. “The mass quantities at least, I can do.” They headed for the nearest fast-food joint, just down the street. “I was going to suggest we do some more shopping this morning, because I think our opportunities will be more limited where we are going in Canada. But perhaps you would like to wait until we get to Sault Ste. Marie?”
“Most definitely.” Blayne tilted her seat back to ease the pounding in her head. “See if they’ll give us a little bag of ice, too, will you?” she asked as they pulled up at the drive-through. “And then we need to stop at the convenience store over there for some ibuprofen.”
*
A couple of hours and several cups of coffee later, they were in Sault Ste. Marie and the drugs and massive infusion of liquids had started to work their magic. Blayne felt almost human again.
Alexi parked the car in front of a Wal-Mart and said, “Get whatever you will need for the foreseeable future. Clothes, personal items. We will probably be tucked away somewhere remote, so something to keep you occupied, too. Music, books. Don’t worry about the cost.”
“Does that mean you’re giving me my money back?” Blayne asked as they headed into the store.
“I think it prudent for me to continue to handle the finances,” Alexi replied. “For now.” She pulled out a shopping cart and they set off down the nearest main aisle.
“I’m not going to go anywhere, you know,” Blayne said. “Not any time soon. You don’t have to watch every move I make in here.”
“Better that we stick together.”
Blayne stopped in her tracks, forcing Alexi to stop as well. “I’m serious, Alexi. I’ll accept your protection, but you have to give me room to breathe. I think we’re safe here, don’t you?”
Alexi considered her answer. “Relatively, yes. If it is that important to you…” She could tell from Blayne’s body language—hands on hips, feet firmly planted—that this was no small matter, but a test of trust.
“It is.”
“All right then. I will leave this cart with you and get my own.” Alexi stepped back from the one she was pushing. “How long do you need? A half-hour? Forty-five minutes?”
Blayne looked surprised but pleased at the quick concession. “Make it forty-five. Trying on clothes and picking out a few CDs will take some time.”
“All right. I will meet you up by the cashiers then.” Alexi headed toward the front of the store, but doubled back once Blayne was out of sight. She would allow Blayne the illusion that she was not being watched, but the reality would be entirely different.
Blayne went to electronics first, and Alexi
watched her select a portable DVD/CD player and several movies and music CDs to go with it. Then it was on to books and magazines, then health and beauty aids.
It was there that Alexi first realized Blayne was shoplifting.
The cavernous store was nearly empty, so she couldn’t get close enough to see what she had taken, or exactly where on her body she had put it, but Alexi knew from the quick glance around and the way Blayne positioned herself that something funny was going on. What the hell does she think she is doing?
The next stop was sporting goods, where Blayne once again did her glance-around before lifting an item from off the shelf and tucking it somewhere on the front of her body.
Damn it. What foolishness. She hadn’t told Blayne, of course, that she had a sack full of money in the trunk, but she thought she had been clear that money was not a concern. Why is she doing this? She had put most of her selections in the cart to be paid for, which made Alexi all the more curious to know what it was that she didn’t want to be seen purchasing.
This has to stop. Right now. If someone catches her, what a nightmare. Alexi began to wonder what else she might have missed. She had to admit Blayne was pretty good at it. Very quick and subtle. And she didn’t look guilty at all. Who knew what she might have tucked away in her jacket, her pockets, and wherever else.
She followed Blayne to women’s clothing, and watched her pull several items from the racks—jeans, shirts, sweaters, dress slacks—and stack them across the shopping cart. When Blayne headed into one of the dressing rooms with her armload of clothes, Alexi was dead on her heels. She pushed her inside and locked the door behind them before Blayne had a chance to react or protest.
“Okay, let’s have it.” Alexi demanded.
“What the hell? Have what? Blayne dropped her stuff and faced Alexi with a scowl. “You scared the shit out of me.”