“What about your dad? What did he think?”
Tallie couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, Daddy pretty much showered us with equal attention and love. He praised the ugliest craft projects we made when we were kids as if they were Van Goghs. Josie’s were better, but Daddy didn’t say that. Probably because Mom often did.”
She took another drink of wine. “You know, I don’t think for one minute that she was purposely making me feel badly. I think she always thought that I couldn’t improve if she didn’t tell me the truth. In her mind, she was making me try harder. But I just don’t have that natural talent like she does. Or like Josie did.”
Brett was eyeing her speculatively. “You know what they say about hard work and talent, don’t you?”
She shook her head.
“Hard work will beat talent if talent doesn’t work hard. All you need is drive, Tallie. You can do anything with enough drive.”
“Truthfully, I’m not sure the drive is there. Not when it comes to working with my mother.”
“Do you like interior design?”
She thought of the rooms in her home, how much she loved what she’d done to them. “I really do. I like helping clients see how their homes can be better. I especially like helping people on smaller budgets. It’s a challenge, and I like a challenge so much more than a blank checkbook.”
“Then do that. Why not?”
Tallie thought about it. The wine was going to her head, fuzzing her thoughts. Making her say things she wouldn’t let escape if she were paying more attention. But what did it matter? Brett Wheeler wasn’t going to be in her life for much longer—a thought that made her kinda sad.
“Tallie?” he prompted when she didn’t say anything.
She pulled her thoughts together from where they’d strayed. “That’s not the way Mom likes to work, and we don’t have enough of those sorts of clients anyway.”
He tilted his head as he studied her. “You ever think about going out on your own? Opening your own design studio where you could do the interiors you want to do?”
She had thought of it. The idea always made little happy bubbles burst inside her like champagne bubbles. But then she came back down to earth.
“I can’t. My mother needs me. When Josie was alive, it might have been possible. But now? No, the workload is too much, and there’s nobody else. I mean there are other designers in the firm, but I’m her daughter. She counts on me.”
“You have to do what you have to do. But you’re the one who said you weren’t fulfilled working with your mother. I’m just asking the questions.”
“I know.” She twirled the wine glass in her hand, studying the play of firelight against the liquid. “I ask myself the same questions every few months. But since Josie died… I guess I decided to stay put and help my mother for the time being. Another year or two at least.”
“Just be sure you do something you want to do every once in a while. Something you don’t have to explain or apologize for.”
“Okay, Dr. Brett. Whatever you say.”
He laughed. “Fine, I deserved that. But doing what I do—well, I’ve learned that nothing is guaranteed. We only have right now.”
Tallie stiffened. “I know that. I really do. One minute my sister was alive and the next she wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can throw away my responsibilities and break my promises.”
“I’ve upset you. I apologize.”
She pulled in a deep breath and set the wine glass on the table. “No, look, I’m sorry. You didn’t sign on to be my therapist. You’ve got your hands full just trying to keep us safe. I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff anyway.”
He reached for her hand. She let him wrap his fingers around hers. She liked the feel of their skin touching. It was comforting. And exciting. Those champagne bubbles were popping in her veins again, and all because he held her hand.
“We’re just talking, babe. Sitting by a fire, drinking wine, and talking. You don’t have to apologize for answering my questions, or disagreeing with anything I’ve said.”
She gazed into his green eyes. They were darker around the outside, lighter in the middle. Pretty eyes. Knowing eyes.
Eyes that had seen too much.
Her heart squeezed.
He’d said to do something she wanted to do. Something just for her. Before she could stop herself—before her brain could catch up to her reflexes—she leaned forward and kissed him.
Colt climbed onboard the flight in Rome and sank down into his first class seat, ready to sleep for a few hours and maybe watch a couple of movies.
It’d been a long trip, first the drive from Venice and then the meeting with the informant Ian had sent him to see. He’d thought he’d be returning to Venice, but Brett and Tallie were no longer there and Ian told him to head back to HQ.
Colt yawned and scratched the stubble on his chin as the flight attendant took drink orders. He downed a vodka and then catnapped until the plane was airborne and the flight attendant came around again.
He ordered another vodka, then logged onto the inflight wifi in case Ian or Brett or one of the other guys needed to be in touch. Then he kicked back and fell asleep.
His phone woke him sometime later, the buzzing indicating he had a message. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and lifted the phone to check.
And then he shook his head in case he was imagining things. Angelica Turner—Angie of the red hair and soft fingers that had stroked his cheek when he’d been in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound—was texting him.
She hadn’t spoken directly to him in months. He didn’t know why, but she’d stopped talking to him once it was clear he wasn’t going to die from the wound Calypso had given him. Until then, she’d sat with him, sniffling when she thought he was asleep.
Colt thought of how he’d gone with his buddies to see Tom Walls, the man who’d assaulted Angie on her job, and his gut twisted. They hadn’t threatened that asshole nearly enough for his liking.
He turned his attention back to the texts, wondering what she might want after all these months when she’d barely been civil to him.
Angie: Hi. How are you?
Colt thought about ignoring the text, but he wasn’t capable of it. Fine. You sure you’re texting the right person?
Angie: Um, this is Colt, right?
Right.
Angie: Then yes, I’m sure. Is it okay?
He gazed at the back of the seat in front of him. Beside him, a woman watched a romantic comedy on the entertainment system.
Yes, of course. Is everything okay with you?
He watched the three little dots for a long time.
Angie: Fine. I just… I need to apologize to you.
Apologize? For what?
The three dots kept appearing and disappearing. Was she erasing the words and starting over? Probably. Finally, an answer popped up on the screen.
Angie: It’s my fault she shot you.
Colt frowned. How is it your fault? I was doing a job and it went wrong. It happens.
Angie: It happens? You mean you just accept the idea you could be shot and get on with your day like it’s a normal occurrence?
Colt: Well, yeah. It’s not your fault I got shot, Angie. That woman is a dangerous criminal and she took advantage of you to get what she wanted.
He didn’t say the word Calypso, or the name Natasha Orlova. Angie Turner didn’t need to know those things. It was safer if she didn’t. Bad enough that Maddy knew, but then again she was with Jace now so she kinda had to.
He also didn’t say them because he was on a plane’s wifi and that was hardly secure.
Angie: I nearly got my best friend killed. And the man she loves. And you. I was useless during that whole thing. Maddy was strong, but all I did was cry.
Colt sighed as he pushed a hand over his head. You did what anyone would do who wasn’t used to that stuff. There’s nothing to apologize for.
Was this why she’d avoided him for so long? Because she felt guil
ty?
Angie: You’re just trying to make me feel better.
Colt: Maybe so, but I also mean it. You aren’t a cop or a soldier. It wasn’t your job to do anything that day except try to stay alive.
Angie: I appreciate you saying that. I don’t know why I’m even bothering you…
Colt: You aren’t bothering me. I’m on a plane and I’m bored. Your message is the most exciting thing to happen since this tub left the ground.
She sent a laughing emoji. Well, that’s kind of good, right? You don’t really want excitement in the air.
Colt: No, not especially.
Angie: Where are you going? Anywhere fun?
Colt: Returning from a work assignment. On the way home now, but I’ve been in Italy.
Not the only place he’d been, but he wasn’t going to tell her everything.
Angie: I love Italy! What part?
Rome, he told her, leaving Venice out of the picture.
Angie: Ah, the food. The ruins. So beautiful.
Colt: Sure is.
He was thinking that she was too, but that was another thing he wasn’t going to tell her. Not yet anyway. He’d thought she didn’t like him, but maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe she just felt guilty.
And then there was Tom Walls. Colt still didn’t know if she was telling the truth about what that bastard had really done to her. She’d insisted he hadn’t raped her, but what if he had? That would be enough to make her afraid of any man, wouldn’t it?
Angie: Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to say I was sorry about that night. I’ve felt awful for a long time, and I finally got the nerve to say something about it. I should have done it a long time ago.
Colt: You should have so I could have told you it wasn’t your fault. All this time you’ve been blaming yourself. It’s not right.
Angie: You’re sweet, Colt.
Just what he wanted to be. Sweet. He drew in a breath and let it out again slowly. Enforcing calm. So are you, he typed.
Sweet enough to eat, he thought.
Angie: Thank you. I’m sure I’ll see you around at Maddy and Jace’s sometime.
Colt: I’m sure you will. How about you don’t avoid me when you do? I won’t bite.
Angie: Okay, I won’t avoid you. Promise. I’ve got a client coming in, so I have to go now. It was good to ‘talk’ to you.
Colt: You too.
Colt put the phone down and thought back to the last time he’d seen Angelica Turner. He’d been at a restaurant with Jace and Maddy when she’d walked in wearing a blue wrap dress that hugged her curves and made heads turn. He’d had an insane urge to get up and go to her, claim her in front of all those watching eyes.
But of course he hadn’t. She wasn’t his. Never would be, even though she was finally talking to him again. Angie wasn’t cut out for this life. And he’d never want her put into a situation where she had to be afraid like the night Calypso had taken her.
Nope, Angie, as beautiful as she was, had to stay in her safe little world. And far away from his.
Chapter Twelve
Tallie’s heart pounded as she leaned into Brett and pressed her mouth against his. Part of her brain demanded to know what the hell she was doing. The other part told her this was a fabulous idea and keep on going. That was the part currently enjoying the fireworks exploding inside her and wanting more of the same.
Brett’s mouth opened beneath hers and their tongues met. A rush of warmth flooded her at that simple action. He tasted like the wine they’d been drinking.
Wine.
That’s why she was doing this. Why she felt brave enough.
The knowledge wasn’t enough to stop her, though.
She leaned in a little more, brought her hands up to his face. His jaw was still stubbly. She liked the feel of it beneath her fingertips, the rough scrape against her chin. What would it feel like scraping against the soft skin of her thighs?
Tallie moaned a little at the thought. It’d been so long. So damned long since she’d had anything but her own fingers between her legs.
Sharon told her to buy a vibrator, but she hadn’t done it. Probably should have but she couldn’t envision going into one of those stores. Or, worse, ordering online and then getting lots of naughty catalogs to her house.
Brett’s fingers threaded into her hair, cupped the back of her head as he tilted her toward him. Every touch of his body against hers made butterflies swirl inside. She just wanted more.
Another moment and he dragged her across his lap, laying her back in his arms, his mouth doing things that made liquid fire spill through her limbs, turning them languid and pliant. She could hardly lift her arms to put them around his neck. Hardly hold her head up. It was like being drugged, but not with actual drugs. She knew what that felt like too, unfortunately.
Brett’s big palm skimmed her hip, up her side, beneath her breast while his other arm braced her body, his fingers skimming her cheek, her ear.
Every touch was like fire. Every touch made her lose a little bit more of her inhibition. She could feel him beneath her. Growing hard, his erection pressing into her bottom. Making her want.
She reached for the hem of his henley and started to tug it upward. And then her hands were on smooth, hot skin, and her heart hammered like mad and her body felt like molten fire. She needed more.
Brett groaned, his throat vibrating with it as she slipped her fingers into his fly. She wanted to touch him. Wanted to see if he was as hard as he felt.
She was almost there when he broke the kiss with another groan and sat back.
Tallie found herself lying in his arms, looking up at him as if someone had just woken her from a dream.
“Tallie.” He swallowed. “You have no idea how badly I want to go there with you. But I can’t.”
She blinked at him, fresh embarrassment beginning to drip into her veins. Carefully, she disentangled herself. Crawled off his lap and reached for her wine glass because she needed something to do.
“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I’m afraid I’m not thinking straight right now.”
He blew out a breath. Grabbed his own glass and drained it. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
She dared to look at him. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. She wanted to reach up and brush it back, but she didn’t. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“You said to do something for myself,” she offered, as if explaining.
He grinned suddenly and she felt a kind of relief that he wasn’t mad. “I did, didn’t I? And you should. Definitely. But how about getting a full night’s sleep and maybe not drinking any wine first?”
“You think I kissed you because of the wine?”
“Didn’t you?”
She nibbled her lip. “It helped, I admit. But I wouldn’t have done it if I weren’t attracted to you. No wine is that magical.”
“Good to know. But Tallie?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t tell you to do something for yourself in order to make you sleep with me.”
She felt herself coloring. “I know that. It just seemed like the thing to do in the moment.”
He nodded. “It’s okay. If it still seems like the thing to do tomorrow, let me know. But you need to realize that if what you want is sex, I’ll give you all you can handle. But that’s all I’ll give you. So be sure, Tallie. Be very sure. We’re only pretending to be a married couple. This isn’t the beginning of a relationship.”
Tallie pushed to her feet as embarrassment made her too damned hot to sit by the fire anymore. She glared down at him with all the haughtiness she’d ever learned at the feet of her mother. Her heart throbbed and her eyes stung and she wanted to lash out at someone.
Him.
“Who said anything about a relationship? You look like you’d be a good time. That’s all.”
His gaze burned into her. “Yeah, that’s me. A good time.”
They stared at each other. She didn’t know why
she suddenly felt as if she’d said something wrong. He was the one who’d told her not to get confused and think he wanted a relationship. So why did he seem as if she’d just slapped him?
“I’m going to go up now. Thank you for getting us here safely, and for building a fire. And making grilled cheese. I’m going to owe you big time when this is over.”
“You don’t owe me,” he said, his gaze still hot.
Tallie was out of her element here. The undercurrents were fierce. She didn’t know what to say. So she said whatever popped in her head, no matter how idiotic.
“If you ever want your house decorated or something—well, I’d be happy to do it.”
Her face was on fire. Stupid thing to say. Decorating? For him? An international man of mystery who carried a big Sig and went undercover in criminal organizations? He probably cared about interior design as much as he cared about, oh, celebrity gossip. Which meant not much at all.
“I’ll remember that,” he said coolly.
“Great. Well, okay. Good night.”
“Good night, Tallie.”
She turned on her heel and practically ran for the stairs.
Brett cleared up the dishes and then opened the door and walked outside. Without his jacket.
He needed to cool the fire in his blood before he went back inside, and standing in the cold was a good way to do it.
The house he’d brought them to was perched above a village that glowed with golden lights below. There were other houses nearby, and he could hear the barking of a dog as well as the tinkling of a cowbell somewhere in the distance. It was peaceful. Beautiful.
The snow wasn’t thick this early in the season, though it would certainly be thicker on the slopes of the mountains above. There would be skiers up there tomorrow. He wished he had time to hit the slopes himself, but it wasn’t likely.
He wasn’t a great skier, but he’d learned well enough and he was qualified for mountain ops if necessary. He liked to stay in practice whenever he could.
His breath frosted in the air above him. He turned to look at the house. Warm light spilled from the downstairs windows. Tallie’s room was at the back of the house, so no light showed from upstairs.
Black Tie: HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries: A Black’s Bandits Novel Page 10
