It went flying, and the clunk against the far wall made him grimace.
She did the same with the other and followed it into the bedroom. In bare feet, she was even more appealing. Real. Everything he wanted.
The door shut with a tiny click, and he felt it like a kick in the ass.
‘Fuck.’ He circled the room. He should let it be. She’d be best off if she cut him out of her life. It meant she wouldn’t come looking for him. She wouldn’t get caught up in his world like she was now.
He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Fuck,’ he whispered.
He couldn’t do it.
He planted his hands on his hips and looked around the bare, sad apartment. He’d asked and asked and asked of her. She’d gone out with him, she’d slept with him, she’d put her safety in his hands and she’d ended up here. She’d trusted him time and again with nothing to back up her instincts, but her goodwill was quickly running out. It was time for him to meet her halfway.
He headed back to the kitchen and poured her a shot of whiskey. Rummaging through the cupboards didn’t turn up much, but he did find a half-burned candle in a jar and a book of matches. Cranberry scent. He scowled, but it was all he had. A book from her duffle bag lay on an end table. He swept that up too, and took everything to the bathroom.
He eyed the tub. It looked clean enough, but he ran over it with wipes he found under the sink. Finally, he turned the tap full on.
He searched for anything else as the tub began to fill with warm water. Bubbles were a long shot, and he came up empty-handed. The towels were clean, but they weren’t soft and plush like the ones in her boss’s bathroom. He swore that Nina had a tactile thing. Everything around her was luxurious that way. Rielle deserved all those amenities, but he didn’t have them here.
He shut off the tap and looked around. It wasn’t much, but it was the best he could offer her.
He braced himself against the bathroom doorframe and stared at the blocked-off bedroom before him. When it came to urban operations, he had balls the size of that goat back at Madam’s Organ. He’d entered and cleared more buildings than he could count, but the thought of knocking on that particular door had him sweating bricks.
She hadn’t trusted him before, but he hadn’t seen the look of fear in her eyes until just a few moments ago. Fear and resignation.
He took three steps and knocked.
For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer.
‘What?’ The word was soft and dispirited.
He worked out a kink in his neck and entered. She was standing at the window, looking at the nighttime world outside. Clouds had hidden the stars and even the moon on the ride home. DC was getting ready for a spring rainstorm. There was heaviness in the air and the charge of gathering electricity. Her feet were still bare, and her toes curled into the carpeting. She looked like she was chilled in that short skirt and brief silk top, but she’d made no move to get changed.
She was as far away as she could get from the bed they’d shared.
‘I ran you a bath.’
She looked at him in bewilderment, and he nearly swore again.
No, he hadn’t grown two heads.
‘I promised the detective that you would relax tonight.’ And he’d done just about everything possible to blast that promise to smithereens.
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t buying it.
‘I won’t bother you.’ By ‘bother’ he meant touch.
He walked back to the kitchen, leaving her alone, and found his glass. He tossed the water into the sink and replaced it with whiskey of his own. He had it half gone before he heard the bathroom door close.
And lock.
For some reason, that sealed his decision. He knew what she wanted most, and it wasn’t a hot bath. He finished off the whiskey, poured himself another and headed back down the hallway. She gave him a long time to think. He was waiting for her, sitting on the bed and staring into his untouched drink, when she finally came out a million hours later.
She paused in the doorway when she saw him and hugged her clothes to her chest. ‘You’re on the couch tonight.’
‘I know.’
She smelled clean, and the tips of her hair were damp. Warm air floated down the hallway, along with a nice scent. Cranberry wasn’t half bad. She looked calmer, toned down, but even more resolved. He didn’t want to work her up again, but he needed to change that look in her eyes.
Or at least give her better information on which should could make her decisions.
‘Nice pajamas,’ he said brusquely. She was wearing a Washington Capitals hockey jersey. Seeing her bare legs and knowing the jersey touched nothing but skin made his back teeth set.
She looked down and bit her lip. ‘It was a gift for a favour I did for Jason. Please don’t go after him.’
Go after him? Jesus. Did she think he was a bloodthirsty thug? He set his drink down on the nightstand and rubbed his hand over his face. This had to end.
‘Rielle, the blond guy you saw at the bar is my partner.’
Her eyes snapped open so wide, he could practically see the gears turning in her brain. ‘That was Mike?’
‘Shit.’ He hadn’t planned to out his partner’s identity, but she’d connected the dots like she always did. ‘Yes, Mike. You weren’t supposed to see him there.’
‘But…’ Confusion furrowed her brow, and her energy rose. ‘Why were you so angry with him?’
‘Because he’s supposed to blend in, and that’s the second time you’ve picked him out of a crowd. You singled him out at the White House dinner, and you spotted him in a crowded bar. That’s not supposed to happen.’
‘But I didn’t notice him that way. I didn’t find him suspicious or alarming.’ She tugged at the leather skirt she held in her hands. ‘He’s just a good-looking guy.’
‘Yeah? Don’t let him hear you say that.’ Darien stared at the floor and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he had to. She had a need to know. ‘We haven’t been getting along lately. He’s been riding me pretty hard, but he’s been slipping up, too. We talked.’
Talked? He was trying to be honest here. He’d gotten in his partner’s face, and they’d had a rip-roaring go-round.
He lifted his gaze and scowled. ‘We fought, but it didn’t come to blows. You act like you thought I took him out or something.’
She hooked her hair behind her ear and gave a little shrug.
She really thought the worst of him, didn’t she? Darien tapped his thumbs together as he braced his elbows on his knees. He supposed, from what she’d seen, it wouldn’t be that big of a leap. And he’d taken lives before. He’d been a soldier. He was tasked with being a weapon now.
‘Why is he upset with you?’ she asked quietly.
‘Because of you. I brought you in when I shouldn’t have. I needed you that first night. Everything I told you then was the truth, but afterwards I should have done exactly what you want me to do now – walk away.’ He stopped the nervous tapping of his thumbs, and the room went quiet. Down the hallway in the bathroom, the ceiling fan whirred. ‘I couldn’t.’
He saw her swallow hard.
‘Is he trying to make you? Is that why we can’t stay here any more?’
‘No, they need the place.’
Her shoulders finally relaxed, but her mind was working faster than ever. He could see it plain as day on her face. ‘But…The Breather. You told him about that, right?’
Hell, yes, he’d told him. It’s was what had set him off. ‘He thinks the cops should handle it. It’s a distraction for me, and it’s endangering our assignment.’
She went still. ‘What assignment is that?’
Darien sighed. ‘Rielle, I told you I can’t tell you everything. I shouldn’t be telling you most of the things I’m telling you right now.’
‘I won’t tell anyone.’
‘I know you won’t.’ Not voluntarily. Thinking about other ways the information could be
pried out of her turned his stomach.
‘It’s not fair, I know,’ he said. She wanted to know more about him, but there were reasons why the rules were in place. ‘I don’t want anyone thinking you have knowledge about me that might be valuable.’
She shook her head so vehemently, her damp hair swished around her shoulders. ‘But you made me your escort with an exclusive contract. Men tell escorts more than you think they do. They tell them everything.’
A cold knot formed in his chest. Had he made a tactical error there?
‘You think you’re putting me in danger, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.’ She put the clothes on the dresser, then clenched her hands at her sides. ‘Are you?’
He stared at her helplessly.
‘At least answer my question,’ she whispered.
Good or bad. It all came down to that, but there were so many shades of grey.
The muscles in his shoulders bunched. She was asking him to trust her.
He felt sweat threaten to break out on his forehead when he realised how far out on a limb she’d gone for him. He licked his lips. She’d been braver than he had. He’d been using the rules as an excuse, but opening himself up like that? Letting her see inside?
The humid air from her bath hung in the room around them. Suddenly, all the walls were listening.
He cleared his throat. ‘My job is like yours,’ he said gruffly. ‘Top secret.’
Her weight went up onto the balls of her feet.
‘Shit,’ he swore under his breath. He wiped his brow and finally met her anxious look in an unwavering stare. ‘I work for the government in a unit that, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t exist.’
Her breath sucked in, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as if she didn’t want that to stop him.
‘I can’t tell you specifics, but we monitor situations.’
‘And people,’ she whispered.
‘And we deal with threats.’ They struck fast and hard and left as little trace as possible. She would never, ever find out how.
‘You’re still a soldier,’ she said.
‘No, I’m not.’
Her shoulders pressed against the wall, and she tucked her hands behind her in the small of her back. The toes of her right foot were rubbing against her left shin. Her eyes were still big as she took it all in, but she wasn’t running.
She wasn’t shying away in fear any more.
‘I’m one of the good guys,’ he said, ‘if that’s the label you need to put on it. But there are operatives on the opposite side who do exactly the same thing.’
‘I’m OK with that.’
Had not knowing been worse?
He unclenched his hands to get blood flow back to his fingers. He’d been worried the truth would send her for the hills. Now he felt his nerves snapping even tighter that she was staying. He’d been trained to remain in the shadows, and it worried him to pull her into the darkness with him like this. It made him feel more exposed than if he’d walked outside and yelled it to the streets.
‘That’s all I’m going to tell you about that. Do you understand?’
She nodded and he stood up. He’d tell her whatever she wanted to know about himself – he’d already cracked open that door – but he would not share classified information. Not even for her.
He walked to her, and she didn’t balk. Planting a hand against the wall on each side of her head, he leaned in. Her eyes were bright, and the colour had come back to her cheeks. The frizzy, irritated static between them still buzzed, but it had dropped in tone.
He dipped his head so they were eye-to-eye. ‘And if I’m being perfectly honest, I signed that contract not only to protect you, but to get close to you. I want you, Rielle, any way I can get you.’
Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply. She shifted against the wall, and her hockey jersey snagged, making it lift higher on her thighs.
Wanting was in her eyes.
He felt a corresponding tug inside his chest. And lower.
But he pulled back.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘The couch.’ He’d been banished.
Rielle was stunned when he left her.
She was even more stunned by what he’d told her. Finally, the truth.
He moved like a ghost down the hallway, and the lights in the living room went off. They’d been dim, but the darkness made it seem like there was a chasm between them. Darkness versus light. Good versus bad. Danger versus security. Sometimes there were vagaries that brought them closer than one would think. She heard the creak of springs as he settled onto the sofa, but then there was silence.
She sank into the wall, letting it hold her when her legs went weak. Her mind was whirling as she tried to process everything he’d told her. He might not be a soldier any more, but he did dirty work…work that somebody had to do…
The White House reception – he hadn’t crashed that. He’d been invited. And the dark-haired woman with RBF? Rielle cringed. She didn’t want to know what that woman was involved in.
But she could handle all that.
She bent over and braced her hands on her thighs. Compared to the other places her thoughts had gone, this was something she could embraced. She’d worried about organised crime and drug cartels. With the way he’d involved Luxxor and the way Nina had reacted, she’d even considered the seedier world of prostitution – the one where protections weren’t in place and escorts had no options. Nina kept her on the periphery of what Luxxor did. She’d worried Darien would do the same. She didn’t know if she could be with a man like that, even if he kept her totally separate from his illegal dealings.
But she understood his caution now and what drove him. He was still dangerous, but he had a conscience.
He was protecting more than just her.
She swept her hair back as she stood upright again. Her thoughts were clearer, and the knot of anxiety inside her chest was gone. Yet a different kind of nervousness set in. She’d pushed him tonight. She’d made him break his oath and put her in front of others. She hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far.
The fan in the bathroom whirred incessantly, wearing on her nerves. She waited for the sofa to creak or the sound of footsteps, but that was a hopeless cause. He didn’t make a sound when he moved. Finally, she tiptoed down the hallway to turn off the fan herself. With the hush, her awareness of the rest of the apartment grew.
She waited for him to come around the corner.
Or to call her name.
When it didn’t happen, she retreated. It had been a long time since she’d listened to her inner voice, the one that had kept her safe. She returned to the bedroom, turned off the light and crawled into bed.
The darkness pressed on her.
He’d shared his secrets with her. More than that, he’d shared himself. He’d broken his own rules for her. He’d made his move.
What should hers be?
She lay there, staring into the darkness for a long time as her brain and her heart fought it out. He’d told her what he wanted. The intimate confession had loosened her joints, but what did she want? She’d made mistakes before. At last, she threw back the covers. She didn’t know why she was fighting herself. She knew what the answer was.
She walked down the darkened hallway towards the living room. It was brighter there than she’d thought. Moonlight slanted across the floor as it poured through a gap in the curtains. It gave the apartment an intimate glow that she didn’t want to disturb.
She turned into the room and was surprised to find him asleep. His face was relaxed, and his lashes seemed long. He looked younger. Unburdened.
For all of two seconds.
She let out a squeal when he moved like lightning. One moment, he was asleep. The next, he was alert and armed.
‘Darien,’ she gasped. ‘It’s me.’
He hadn’t pointed the weapon at her, but he had it in his hand.
‘Sorry. Damn.’ He eased back against t
he cushions and set that imposing black handgun on the coffee table. The hardness hadn’t left his face as he laid his head back against the armrest. ‘I’ve been trained to sleep when I can.’
She smoothed the jersey over her thighs. Her hands were still shaking. ‘I shouldn’t have woken you.’
His shirt was off, and his feet were bare. He was longer than the sofa, but his body seemed lazy and relaxed as he lay back down.
It was a deception.
‘Why did you?’ he asked.
She didn’t know what to say. Now that her eyes had adjusted, the moonlight was so much brighter in this room. She still had time to turn around. He’d let her keep him at arm’s-length, if that was what she wanted.
It wasn’t what she wanted at all.
She went to the sofa and sat on the small open space by his hip. His eyes got heavy again. He tucked her hair behind her ear and combed his fingers through its length. ‘Can’t sleep, Beautiful?’
She shook her head.
He shifted and made room for her to lie down beside him. It was a tight fit. The sofa wasn’t big enough for him as it was, but when he wrapped his arm around her waist and tucked her up against him, it was perfect.
She folded her hands under her head. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she whispered.
His hand moved on her belly. ‘You can’t tell anyone,’ he warned, his voice low against the darkness. ‘Ever. Not Nina, not Sienna. No one.’
‘Don’t worry.’ She leaned back against him. ‘You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you.’
He went still behind her.
‘Don’t regret it,’ she said. ‘Please?’
‘I’m not regretting anything.’ He slid his hand up her leg. ‘I’ve just never had anyone offer to protect me before.’
‘I will.’
‘I know, and it’s making me hard.’ He worked the hockey jersey upwards, and she helped by wiggling against the cushions. The chill of the night air hit her as he pulled it over her head. She heard the sweater smack against the dead lamp before he pulled her close again. ‘Got to get rid of that thing,’ he muttered.
‘You’ll have to give me something else to wear to bed,’ she teased. She liked knowing he was jealous, even if there was no reason for it.
Courting Danger Page 17