The exploring lead to some more rolling around on the bed in some new positions before exhaustion hit them hard. Samantha was not sure what woke her up but she sat down immediately, her heart hammering in panic. Glancing at the clock beside Damien’s bed, she saw it read three in the morning. She had to get out of there.
Carefully extricating herself from under the heavy hand, she hopped down and blindly searched the room for her clothes. Within minutes, she was dressed exactly the way she had come into the apartment. Pulling her phone out, she called for a cab, gave the sleeping man a last look full of regret and quietly exited the room.
Once in the lobby, she sat down on one of the chairs trying to catch her breath. The night had been wild and oddly sweet at the same time. That scared her. She did not do sweet. Maybe Damien did not either but something niggled at her. The way he had held her and looked at her told her that he was going to come back into her life somehow if she did not put a distance there. Then exactly like a one night stand, she walked out of Damien’s life without a backward glance. Or at least, that’s what she thought.
The Hitman: Inseparable
Chapter 1
Thwack. Thwack. Fists kept coming at the dummy as Samantha pictured all the worst possible perpetrators and kept going. Suddenly the image turned into someone else. Seductive grey eyes rose from her memory almost taunting her. Her fist swung out in full force. Thwack!
“Who are you trying to kill?” her partner, Finn, called out in surprise at the vehemence behind the punch.
“My memory,” she said to herself through gritted teeth. Stepping back, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and took a swing from the bottle. It had been a hard week but the last few days had been absolute torture. Even the mountain of work on her desk did not deter her stupid brain from playing with her emotions.
“You okay?” Finn asked, concerned.
No. She was not okay. Gina, her best friend, was always full of quirky advice. She had once, in a drunken stupor, told Samantha that she could have as many one night stands as she wanted but it was to end one day. One of those was going to come back and haunt her. Relentlessly. God, she hated how the words proved true.
Mustering up a smile or at least a ghost of one, she said, “Fine. You want to practice?”
Finn shuddered and shook his head. “No. Not today. You’re in a volatile state and I don’t want my ass kicked in front of the new recruits.”
Genuine laughter burst from Samantha. “Coward.”
“For good reason.”
“I’m hitting the showers and then heading back to the desk. After you’re done, can you check to see if our file request has come through?”
“Not a problem.”
Samantha took a cold shower. Letting the water run longer than necessary, she willed herself to collect her scattered thoughts. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the grey eyes staring at her. It was making a mess of her usual organized self. She was late for appointments, she could not focus her mind on cases, she could not sleep properly and she dreamt. A lot. Especially about that night.
It was rather unusual for her thoughts to obsess about someone or something not related to her work and it left her all muddled up. All week she had ducked Gina’s calls. Her best friend could read her easily, even if it was via voice. She was not in the mood to discuss anything until the feelings of agitation, nervousness and whatever other emotions she was being bombarded with went away. And by God, she hoped that happened quickly.
Swiftly blow-drying her hair and tying it up in a ponytail, she stuffed her gym bag back into the locker and headed out. Finn waved at her from the treadmill, and she gave him a thumbs up and a hint of a smile. He was a good distraction. He sensed the disturbance in her but was wise enough not to prod. Like a good partner he had her back and as a bonus cheered her up at the most critical periods.
“How’re things, Sam?” Agent Warren asked as usual. It was a routine with him. At the beginning of the day when she passed his desk towards her own, he would stop her just to ask her that. It had been weird for her in the beginning but then she had realized that it was just something he did. A bit of an OCD character, though not really.
She acknowledged him and sat down, the chair groaning under her weight. Someone had messed with the height of her chair. Muttering curses under her breath, she lowered her hand to adjust the lever when she felt something sticky on her fingers.
“What the hell?”
Jerking her hand up, she stared at the pink gunk sticking on it. Gum. Someone had deliberately messed with her chair and then stuck gum under it. Suddenly, it felt like a terrible high school flashback. Samantha felt her irritation rise. Standing up, she glared at the rest of the office. “Okay, seriously. Who did this? This is not funny. What are you people, like twelve?”
A few people snickered and then turned it into a cough as they became targets of her glare.
“Who did this?” Samantha growled, waving her gum covered hand in the air.
No one volunteered. Suddenly everyone was busy rifling papers or tapping away at their keyboards or talking loudly to the person nearest them. Resisting the urge to chuck her paperweight at all of them, Samantha glowered and then walked to the restroom to clean her fingers. Sometimes they acted like bratty children. If she found out who did this…
Irritation weighed on her mind for a bit and then the case load distracted her. There was not much fieldwork to do on some of them. They were mostly open and shut cases. Between a few calls here and there, a trip to the morgue and to the tech room, she managed to shut three cases. As the clock inched towards two in the afternoon, she groaned and shut her eyes. The cases were getting boring by the day and she missed being out in the field. The only interesting case on her desk was that of the mysterious gang but it had no new leads so far.
Her stomach grumbled and her eyes fixated on the huge clock across the room. As soon as the minute hand hit twelve, she leaped away from the desk. Lunchtime had officially begun for her. Grabbing her coat, she started to head for the elevators when a thought struck her.
“If I find my chair in any other position or condition than when I left it, the asshole doing the messing will get his share of pain. Understood?” she announced loudly. Nervous looks were exchanged and a few ‘Yes ma’am’s’ were echoed as she walked away.
A cozy diner with extremely likeable food was within the area of their office building. It did a booming business with most agents and stockbrokers stopping to lunch there. The second Samantha stepped inside the brightly colored room, the variety of smells assailed her senses. Taking a deep breath, she headed to her usual seat by the window. Mama Bailey, who ran the place and did most of the cooking, had an excellent menu. If one was not hungry, then by just looking at her dishes, appetite would be induced if the smell did not do it first.
“The usual, Sam?” A waitress in a blue apron and a tray of dirty dishes in her hand asked as she passed her.
The staff at Mama Bailey’s was just as excellent. They were efficient at attending to so many customers, especially during the busy hours and also tended to remember the frequent diners and their orders.
“Yes, thanks Mary,” Samantha nodded, smiling at the woman.
A few minutes later, a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a tomato cheese grill was placed in front of her. Inhaling the hominess in the bowl, a smile spread on her face. The chicken soup was almost like the one her grandmother used to make when she was little. The memory of the hefty old woman wrapped itself around her in a shroud of nostalgia and loneliness. It was in the little things like the soup that Samantha sought to keep the ghost of the woman, who raised her, alive.
“Now I know for certain how you maintain that figure,” a short, baldish, middle aged man said dramatically, stopping by her table as she was washing down her lunch with a cup of coffee. “Soup!”
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Samantha gave him an indulgent smile. “Harry. How are things in the market?” Har
ry was a stockbroker, an occasional customer at the diner when his wife was too busy writing to make him lunches. They had met during a particular case and were on friendly terms with each other.
“There was a dip but we are recovering,” Harry said with a twinkle in his small eyes. “Catch any criminals recently?”
“Some.”
“Thank you.” He tipped an imaginary hat to show his appreciation.
Samantha chuckled and asked after his children when her coat vibrated. “Excuse me.” Pulling out her mobile, she stared at the number and groaned inwardly. Mother. Of course that woman was the only one left to spoil the better part of lunch for her. Pressing ignore, she got up and left a generous tip before heading towards the exit.
She did not have the strength to hold a conversation with her just then. Any words to be exchanged would have required something stronger than coffee in her system. Fortunately she was working and had adequate excuse to ignore the call. She would, however, have to listen to the tirade on being cut off like that later. But that was later. She would cross that bridge when she came to it, as they said.
As she was crossing the street, she felt the fine hairs on her neck rise in attention. Whirling around, she squinted in the sun. Her eyes grew wide as they landed on the target and her mouth dropped open. Heart thudding erratically and body suddenly paralyzed, she could only stare as the familiar figure made way towards her. How the hell had Damien found her?
Chapter 2
Damien stared the tall figure clad in a pant suit and felt a familiar tug in his pants. Christ. The woman looked even more alluring in the light of the day. The second he spotted her from across the coffee shop, he sped out into the street. He had been about to call out her name when she herself turned around and spotted him.
Purposefully, he strode towards her, his eyes documenting the way she stood rigidly on the pavement, mouth hanging open. He smirked inwardly. He had thrown her off guard by showing up unexpectedly. The morning after, when he had woken up to an empty bed, he had been filled with rage and frustration. Disappearing before the sun came up was his move and Miss. Blue Eyes had pulled it on him. A definite first.
“Hello Samantha,” he said smoothly, trying not to laugh at her wide eyed expression. His words jerked her out of her sudden shock and she quickly closed her mouth. He stared at the creamy column of her neck as she swallowed nervously.
“Hi. I’m sorry, do I know you?”
So she was playing the ignorance card. Interesting. Unfortunately for her, he was familiar with all the tricks of the trade. After all, he invented most of them. She recognized him for sure. Her mouth might be spewing lies but her eyes spoke volumes of truth. She not only recognized him, she remembered the night in detail. Just like he did. Just like he could not forget her, she could not erase him either.
Stepping closer, until he was almost toe to toe with her, he growled lowly. “Do you need a reminder, Peaches?”
The sharp intake of breath made him smile.
“How did you find me?”
“You left behind a clue. A napkin.” He did not bother beating around the bush. Another man would have denied trying to locate her. He would have said that he stumbled upon her by chance. What a chance, that too. But Damien did not play that kind of a game. When he wanted something, he went for it. In full force and with all the facts laid out.
Her blue eyes flickered over her shoulder as her mind started to process the statement. Good, she was smart as he had judged. She quickly made the connection. The napkin from the coffee place had led him to her.
“This could constitute stalking, you know,” Samantha said glibly, deliberately avoiding his stare.
“Why did you sneak out?” Damien got straight to the point. He knew why. But he wanted to hear it from her. He saw it in the way she reacted. She was flighty. She was like him in some ways.
“Damien.” The way she breathed his name got to him. “It was a one night stand. Trust me, you didn’t want me to stay.”
He steeled his jaw at her stubbornness. “That’s where you’re wrong. I did want you to stay. Imagine my immense disappointment when I woke to a cold bed and no note.”
“You don’t seem to understand the concept. As for the note, it didn’t seem necessary. Now if you still want that thank you, then here it is. Thank you for the great night. Now bye, bye.” With those cool words, she started to walk away.
The sight of the suit pants hugging her delectable behind almost distracted him before he caught up to her. Grabbing her elbow, he spun her around.
“Damn it, Samantha. I don’t want a thank you. I want a date. I want to see you again. You know it was more than just sex that night. There was fire and much more. Why are you trying to ignore something this genuine?”
For a second it looked like her resolve could crumble but then the mask of stubbornness slid back on. Extricating herself from his grip, she said, “I felt nothing. The sex was just sex. Now, please leave me alone.”
And then she walked away. Again. Glaring at her back, Damien had the urge to hit something. She was being difficult. But it was fine. He was not going to let her walk away that easy. Not until she gave herself a chance to explore this thing with him.
The nerve of that man! Showing up outside her place of work and then trying to force her to go out on a date with him. Here she thought men were not the clingy type. That was a creepy, stalker move. As soon as she had the thought, she rolled her eyes. Nothing that man did was creepy. If she wasn’t a stronger woman, just the sound of his sinful voice telling her to do things would have been enough to drag her down.
At first she had thought the heat had gotten to her head, distorting reality. Then he had walked up to her and spoken like an old friend. Seemingly collected and straightforward. Exceedingly persuasive. The man was smart, she had to give him that. But she was smarter or at least she hoped she was. Berating herself for losing her wits around him, she tried to distract herself with work and forget the incident but soon she gave up. She needed to call in help.
“You sounded frazzled. What happened?” Gina asked, popping the containers of ice cream into the freezer. She had arrived as quickly as possible after Samantha had made the call, complete with supplies. Hershey’s syrup, bars of chocolate and the different containers of ice cream.
Samantha dropped to her knees to retrieve a bottle of wine from the cabinet below and replied, “Work stress.”
“Really?” her friend asked in a skeptical tone. “Because it seemed more than that.” When she got no response, Gina pushed further. “Sounded more like... Wait! I remember!”
“Remember what?” Samantha asked cautiously.
“It’s him, isn’t it? McHottie from the club last week? Your one night stand?” Gina bounced with unconcealed excitement at the sudden click of information.
Samantha sighed heavily, poured herself a generous amount of wine and sat down on the couch. “Maybe.”
“Oh, stop beating around the bush. Tell me everything. Now!” Gina demanded, grabbing herself a glass.
So then the confused woman poured every bit of information there was regarding Damien while dozens of appropriate expressions flashed across Gina’s face. By the time she concluded with the day’s incident, her wine glass was nearly empty.
“Damien, huh?” Gina mused afterwards. “That’s a hot name.”
“That’s what you picked up from everything I told you?”
Setting down the glass carefully on the coffee table, Gina turned towards Samantha and said, seriously, “So he seems to like you. Tell me why that is bad?”
“Because… because I don’t know anything about him!” Samantha shrugged.
Gina gave her a deadpan look. “Wow, Sammy. A hot stranger asked me on a date. Oh no, but I don’t know him. How can I go out with a stranger? I am no badass FBI agent with a gun strapped to my hip. Boo hoo. But I really loved the wild romp in the bed. Oh, what do I do, what do I do?”
Samantha threw a cushion at her. “That’s not…what I was going for,” she said in a wounded tone and poured herself another glass.
“See! It does sound ridiculous. He’s great in bed, isn’t he?”
Samantha did not see the point of that question but just nodded.
“He’s not creepy or anything of that kind, right?”
Not that she had noticed. But then she had great instincts. If he had a creepy bone in his gorgeous body, she would have definitely picked up on it.
“No weird additions to his body?”
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “No. But what’s your point?”
“Who made you an FBI agent, seriously?” Gina tutted. “Go out with the man! He took the pains to track you down and made it clear he wanted to explore the heat between you two. Not only that, he took a step forward and did the gentlemanly thing by asking you on a date! Free food and maybe another trip to the wild side. How could you say no to that?”
Simple. She was afraid. A date would constitute in things moving up further. One date would definitely lead to another. Then the uncomfortable phase would come where it would not just be sex and fun. The need to label the relationship would arise. Samantha did not do relationships. Sex, she enjoyed. The type of intimacy that relationships brought around, she did not revel in.
“It doesn’t matter now. I told him a firm no. He’s not going to come back after that.”
Samantha left the topic hanging and steered the conservation around to other things. After a while, they brought out the ice cream and slid in a DVD, settling back for some on-screen action. Gina could not help but feel a tinge of sadness for her friend. She was holding back due to some reason that was unclear to her usually perceptive self. She wished Samantha would try this. For the sake of regaining a sense of normality at least. Ever since she had known her, the woman had not been on a single date.
Until that moment, Gina had not tried to decipher the reason behind it. But now, she desperately wished she knew so she could help her move past it. Work was all Sammy lived for and she saw how it altered her at times. She needed someone who would bring out her true potential. She needed to let someone help her. If only she would open herself to some other risks in life than work.
Promised Box Set Page 80