"So, they just killed him? Just like that? What kind of world is this?"
"Not a world you should be living in," he said tersely. "I need to get you out of it."
"But I am living in it. And I'm still in danger. We're in danger."
"Until we figure out who is responsible, yes."
She paced around the room, wishing she could be happy that the man who had pulled a gun on her was now dead, but it just seemed to make things worse.
Wyatt sat down on the bed and took off his shoes. The casual gesture startled her.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting more comfortable. Why don't you try it?"
"I'm too tense. I can't just sit down and relax."
"Then pace it out. I wouldn't try the screaming exercise here," he said. "Or security will come running."
"You're joking right now?"
"Just trying to lighten the mood. Sit down, Avery. Take a breath."
She made three more trips back and forth across the room before she moved to the bed and sat down on the mattress across from him. After a moment, she kicked off her high heels.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked.
"Yes, it was," she said. "How do you handle it all so well, Wyatt? You don't seem bothered by what happened."
"I'm concentrating on the positive. We survived. We're safe. I'm staying in the moment, Avery. It's all we can do."
"Is it all we can do? I'm thinking we should call someone—the police or the FBI. You said you spoke to an FBI agent earlier today. You must have a number. We should tell someone that we were almost killed tonight. Maybe they can do something."
"There's nothing anyone can do tonight. I couldn't identify the car, other than that it was a large, black SUV. I didn't catch the license plate. I couldn't even tell you how many people were in the car."
"I couldn't say that, either," she admitted.
"We can touch base with the bureau in the morning. It's almost midnight. I think we should get a few hours of sleep. We'll go into work tomorrow. While you handle your show and the media tour, I'll call the agent I spoke to today, let them know what happened and see what I can find out."
His logic was difficult to argue with, and as the minutes ticked by, she found her panic beginning to subside. Wyatt was right. They were safe for now. And with no information to go on, no one was going to be able to catch whoever had been following them anyway.
Wyatt took off his suit jacket and tossed it on the end of the bed. Then he leaned against the pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. "This bed isn't too bad," he said. "You want to turn on the TV?"
"This is so weird," she said, with a shake of her head. "You're trying to be normal, but this is not normal."
He smiled. "What is normal anyway?"
"Well, it's not this."
"So, no TV then. What do you want to do?"
She stared back at him, and suddenly her tension shifted.
What did she want to do? What she should not do!
Wyatt's mouth tightened, and he gave a subtle shake of his head. "Forget I asked that."
"Why?"
"Because what you're thinking is a bad idea."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" she challenged.
"Your eyes are glittering. Your face has new color in it. And you're looking at me like a woman feeling incredibly reckless."
"I do feel reckless," she admitted. "We almost died today. Hell, we almost died yesterday. Who knows what's going to happen tomorrow?"
"We're not going to die."
"You can't promise me that."
His jaw tightened, and his gaze filled with shadows. "You're right. I can't promise you that, but I can tell you I'll do everything in my power to protect you."
"Why? Because Hamilton asked you to?"
Her simple question hung in the air for a long minute.
"Because I care about you," he said slowly.
Her whole body tingled at his words. "I thought I was just a job."
"I've been trying to keep you in that category, but I can't. You're a beautiful woman, Avery, not just on the outside. You're kindhearted, generous, and fiercely loyal, putting your own life at risk to get justice for Noelle. And you're a dreamer. Earlier today, you made me look up at the stars, and I haven't done that in a really long time. You made me think about possibilities." He paused, meeting her gaze. "It's hard to be cynical around you."
His words pulled at her heart. "Really? I feel so pessimistic right now."
"That's not pessimism; that's fear. But you're fighting. You haven't given up. You haven't thrown in the towel. You have courage."
"I don't have courage. I'm terrified."
"But when you act in the face of fear, that's bravery. It doesn't matter if you're scared. It only matters what you do."
"Is that what they taught you in the Marines?"
"It's what I've learned over my lifetime. I've been in some bad situations. As long as you don't give up, you can always find a way out. So, we're not going to give up."
"No, we're not," she agreed. "Wyatt…what you just said—it was really nice. If you were trying to make me like you less, it didn't work."
His lips curved into a sexy smile and her breath caught in her chest.
"Wrong tactic, huh?" he drawled.
She nodded. "That connection I was talking about before—it's even stronger now. I've never felt like this before, and it's not just because you're protecting me. It's because I can talk to you. I can be my complete and utter self and know you're not going to judge."
"I'm the last person who should judge anyone. There's a lot you don't know about me, Avery."
There was a warning note in his voice, but she blasted right through it. "There's a lot you don't know about me, too. But isn't part of the fun finding out what we don't know?"
He cleared his throat. "Where's that TV remote?"
She gave him a knowing smile. "Now, who's getting scared?" she teased.
"I'm trying to be professional, Avery."
"You don't have to be professional after midnight." She checked her watch. "And it's two minutes after." She got up from the bed and breached the distance between them, sitting down next to him and putting her hand on his very hard, masculine chest.
"Avery, stop," he said, covering her hand with his. "We can't do this."
"Why not?"
"You're too vulnerable. This isn't what you want. I'm not who you want."
"Yes, you are."
"There's too much you don't know, Avery."
"The only thing I need to know right now is whether you want me, too."
Shadows flew across his face. There was a fight going on in his eyes, and she didn't know why. "I've never really had to talk anyone into taking me to bed before," she murmured. "Have I misread this? Do you not feel the same way?" Doubt suddenly ran through her. "Am I embarrassing myself?"
She tried to pull her hand away, but now he was holding on to her instead of pushing her away.
"You aren't misreading anything. I want you, too—in every possible way."
"Then why are you saying no? Why aren't you following your philosophy to live in the moment?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I've been hurt a lot already. I don't think tonight is going to be about that."
"Tomorrow might be."
She smiled at his cynicism. "Hey, look up, remember," she said, squeezing his fingers. "See the possibilities, not the improbabilities. I borrowed that from Hamilton, by the way."
"It's a good line," he said. "But not as good as this." He pulled her forward, so close she could feel the heat of his breath, but still he hesitated. "I know we should not do this."
"And I know we should. No regrets," she whispered. "Just you, me, tonight…that's all we can count on. All we need." And with that, she put her mouth on his.
All hesitation, reluctance, restraint, worries about doing the right thing, vanished with their first kiss.
&n
bsp; It didn't just feel good—it felt right…perfect.
She couldn't get enough of Wyatt's mouth, his taste, the slide of his tongue against hers, his warm, sexy heat. Pleasure spread through her, tingling every nerve. She wanted to touch him, and the buttons of his shirt were right in front of her.
She flicked them open, one by one and then pressed her palm against his skin, running her fingers through the smattering of brown hair. She pressed her mouth against his chest and took delight in the groan that escaped his lips.
She lifted her head and smiled into his eyes. "You like that?"
"I like you." He ran his hand through her hair, pulling her down for a kiss.
And then he turned the tables on her, switching positions, tumbling her onto her back. She sank into the soft mattress as he covered her body with his.
He ran his thumb across her mouth, following that gesture with his lips, and she drank him in like a long, cool drink on the hottest day imaginable.
His hand ran up her thigh under her dress, and she shivered with anticipation, wanting him to touch her there and everywhere.
"You're so amazing, Avery," he breathed, lifting his head to gaze at her. "I want to take my time but damn…the way you kiss…"
Her heart pounded against her chest at the hungry look in his eyes.
"The way we kiss," she breathed. "The way we touch. It's not me or you—it's us."
"Hell, yes, it's us," he said, pulling back so that he could take off his shirt.
She caught her breath once more at the sight of him. Wyatt was in incredible shape. He actually had a six-pack, and his well-defined abs, muscular arms, and broad shoulders all made her mouth water. If anyone was amazing, it was him. She almost felt a little self-conscious at her soft, not-at-all-defined muscles, but she didn't have time to think about it as Wyatt took off his pants.
"Wow," she muttered.
He smiled. "Your turn, babe."
She sat up and pulled her dress over her head, glad she'd worn a lacy black bra and matching thong. She'd always had full breasts, and Wyatt's appreciative gaze made her feel beautiful, feminine, wanted… But as he came in for another kiss, the sane part of her brain made one last gasping attempt to make her think.
"Wait," she said.
His gaze darkened. "Second thoughts?"
"Condom. I don't have any with me."
"Right." He reached back for his pants and pulled out his wallet and a foil package.
"Always prepared."
"Since I met you," he said.
She didn't really believe that, but she pulled him down on top of her. "Thank God you sometimes think ahead and don't always live in the moment."
"Thank God," he echoed, as he lowered his head and kissed her again. And then he dropped his mouth to her breasts, his fingers slicing underneath the lace of her bra, teasing her nipples into tight points of pleasure. She ached with need, running her hands over his back as they moved together, kissing, touching, and loving each other in all the ways she'd ever imagined…
Nineteen
Wyatt tightened his arms around Avery as he woke up just before five. The room was still dark, and the air had chilled considerably since their fevered lovemaking of the past few hours. He didn't know when they'd finally fallen asleep. Maybe an hour ago?
He pulled the covers up and over them. Avery snuggled closer to him, her face just inches away from his own. He smiled to himself, feeling ridiculously…what was the word…oh, yeah—happy. He felt happy, and he couldn't really remember when he'd felt this happy. It wasn't just the sex that had been spectacular. It was Avery. She'd blown him away even before they'd gotten naked together, but tonight…
He didn't even know how to describe it. But for the first time in a long time, he felt himself, which was crazy, because he was still living a lie. But for a few hours, he hadn't been undercover, he hadn't been an FBI agent, he hadn't even been the guy who'd watched his father and brother go to prison. He'd just been himself—the person he'd thought he'd lost, forgotten, or maybe just put away.
He frowned at the direction of his thoughts. Talk about losing the happy mojo as fast as possible. He needed to keep hanging onto the moment, because he was pragmatic enough to know that this moment wasn't going to last forever, or even for very much longer. The light was coming, and he wished he could hold it off, let Avery relax and sleep in blissful oblivion for a while longer.
He'd told her he would do everything he could to protect her, and he believed he could keep her out of physical danger, but emotional danger…that was another story. His gut was telling him that whoever had killed Noelle, whoever had gone after them last night, was probably someone Avery knew, maybe even someone she cared about. He really hoped it wasn't her father. She could probably handle betrayal from the Tremaines, but her dad—that would devastate her.
"You're crushing me," Avery said, blinking her eyes open.
"Sorry." His grip on her had obviously gotten tighter as his thoughts had gone to a dark place.
"What time is it?"
"Five-ish," he said. "You can go back to sleep."
"But you can't," she said, making it a statement and not a question.
"I don't think so. My brain has fired up."
"Come to any answers?"
"Unfortunately, no, but we have a lot of leads to follow. Hopefully, one of them will take us somewhere."
"Somewhere that doesn't involve my dad," she said.
He stroked the soft skin of her back. "That would be my preference as well. I just wish he hadn't spent time in Russia and China."
"The Tremaines have traveled there as well, and my dad has no motivation to spy on Nova Star."
"Money is always a motivation."
"He's already rich. It's not him. He's not a criminal, even if he's not the greatest father or even person."
"Okay," he said, seeing the agitation in her eyes.
"You don't believe me," she said with annoyance.
"I just remember saying the same thing about my father at first. I couldn't believe the evidence that was in front of my eyes. Eventually, I had to acknowledge that I was wrong, that I couldn't defend him."
"This situation isn't the same, Wyatt. And I'm not wrong."
"All right. We'll work all the other angles and leave your father out of it."
"Thank you. There are certainly a lot of other people with more to gain. We should make a list. I like lists. They keep me organized."
He smiled. "I bet they do, but we can do that later," he said, kissing her forehead.
The smile returned to her eyes. "Really? You have something else you want to do now?"
"I do actually."
"So, do I."
"I like how we're on the same page."
"I like a lot of things about us," she murmured. "Kiss me already."
His lips had barely touched hers when a loud bell went off in the hallway.
"Is that the fire alarm?" she asked.
He jumped out of bed and began collecting their clothes. "Get dressed," he said, as the bells continued to ring.
"Maybe it's a false alarm," she said, as he handed her dress to her.
Or maybe it wasn't a fire but a way to get them out of the hotel.
He threw on his clothes at record speed. He could hear doors opening and closing, people talking in the hallway, and his gut told him this was bad—very bad.
The phone by the bed rang, and he grabbed it as Avery put on her dress and slid into her heels, shaking out her tangled hair with her hands.
The call was recorded, alerting them to the need for them to evacuate their room as calmly and as quickly as possible, using the closest stairwell.
"What did they say?" Avery asked, as she picked up her bag.
"To leave our room in an orderly manner." He put on his jacket and made a quick check of the room. They hadn't brought anything with them, so there were no bags to worry about, and Avery already had the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
They walke
d to the door, and he took a quick peek outside before he opened it.
"Are you checking for fire?" Avery asked, her hand on his back.
"Yeah," he said shortly. But he was more worried that someone had followed them to the hotel than that there was a fire. Although, that was probably shortsighted, considering what had happened to Noelle's apartment building.
He opened the door. An elderly couple was making their way down the hallway, the man grumbling about the damned fire alarm. He didn't smell smoke, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. They followed their fellow guests to the stairwell, making their way down six flights of stairs. He grabbed Avery's hand as they neared the first floor and the emergency exit.
He leaned in and whispered, "Stay close to me. If I say run—run."
She glanced back at him, her eyes widening as she realized he was concerned about more than a fire. But he saw the gleam of determination enter her gaze.
"Got it," she said.
The emergency exit led them out the back of the hotel, and they were quickly pushed along with the others into the parking lot. While they were surrounded by people, he still felt exposed. He saw no flames, and while there appeared to be fire engines in front of the hotel, he still wasn't convinced there was a fire.
Unfortunately, they couldn't go back inside, nor could they easily leave. It was five o'clock in the morning and they didn't have a car. Calling a cab or a rideshare service was going to take a few minutes.
"What do you think?" Avery asked, huddling close to him as he held tight to her hand.
"I don't like it."
"Should we try to go somewhere else?"
"Yeah, let's move toward the front of the hotel where there are more people. The group they'd been in was quickly dispersing. They'd no sooner taken a step when he felt something whiz by his ear and the front window of a nearby car shattered. A moment later, another window blew out.
Someone yelled, "Shooter."
He broke into a run, pulling Avery along with him, as they dodged between cars in the huge parking lot, glass being broken every few seconds.
Thankfully, there were probably fifty or sixty cars, not only in the hotel lot, but in the rental car parking lot next door. Plus, there were now a lot of people running, so they weren't as noticeable.
Desperate Play (Off the Grid: FBI Series Book 3) Page 21