“How are you going to manage that?”
“Fake blood. Maybe a dose of that drug of yours.” He glanced at her to see how she took that idea.
Not well. Her shoulders inched up toward her ears and she went pale, swallowing hard. “It’s one thing to drug someone who’s trying to hurt me. It’s another to do so to some random person on the street. Without knowing their medical history, it’s dangerous.”
“This person is clearly already in danger. If I don’t pretend to kill them, then whoever that guy I met was, he’ll just send someone else who will do the job right. This way we can at least warn the target to get the hell out of town or go to the police.”
“He’d tell them about you. You could be arrested.”
“I’ll wear a mask. We need that information.”
“We don’t even know what it is.”
“No, but we know that Mira’s dad wants it, and that he’s willing to send me out to kill someone to get it.”
“Are you sure this is his doing?”
“The man I met mentioned my employer. I assume he’s talking about Richard Sage, since I have no memory of any of this. He’s sure as hell not talking about Bella—my real boss.”
Leigh pulled over into a parking lot at a strip mall, well away from the shops. Her hand trembled as she put the car in park. She didn’t look at him, and for some reason that bothered the piss out of Clay. He needed to know what she was feeling, what she was thinking. He didn’t like standing on the far side of the wall she’d put around herself. It made him lonely and furious all at theous”< same time.
She let out a long, slow breath and nodded, as if trying to convince herself of something. “Okay. We’ll do this your way. I’ll give you what you need to incapacitate a full-grown man if that’s what it takes to help Garrett.”
“I can’t promise that the files will help him, Leigh.”
“I know. It’s a chance I’m going to have to take, no matter how much I loathe the idea.”
She was crossing a line in her mind. He could see her regret for her decision in the way she couldn’t lift her eyes above her lap.
Clay couldn’t ask her to do this. She was right. This was way different from defending herself. “I’ll find another way. I’m good with my hands. I should be able to overpower him and knock him out.”
She turned toward him then, all cold logic, with no hint of the emotion he’d seen a moment ago. He hated it that she could freeze up on him like that.
“Should be? What if you’re not?” she asked. “What if he fights back and you lose it again? Then you’ll really kill him.”
She had a valid point. It only pissed him off more, making him feel edgy and out of control.
“We’ll wait and see who it is. If it’s some old lady, that’s one thing. If it’s a man in his prime, that’s another. I may have to play it by ear, but I can plan for different scenarios.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We’ll hit a store for some stuff to make fake blood, and I’ll need a mask. Once everything’s ready, we wait.”
“In that hotel room?” She didn’t sound as if she liked the idea any better than he did.
“Hell no. We’ll get a different room. I’m going to need some time to prepare and plan, and I don’t want to do that out in the open. Besides, you look like you could use some sleep.”
She snorted as if the mere thought was ridiculous. “Yeah, right. That’ll happen.
He’d done this to her. He’d ripped her from her life and shoved her into a nightmare. He hadn’t meant to do it. Hell, he hadn’t even asked her to do it. But that didn’t change the fact that she was here because of him—exhausted, afraid, and compromising her principles.
He hoped to God that whatever was in those files was worth it, because if it wasn’t, he’d just inadvertently destroyed a life he would have gladly died to save.
Chapter Twenty-four
Act normal.
Mira could do that. She had a lifetime of practice doing that. First when she’d learned that her father was involved ous
Tonight was going to be much easier. All she had to do was have dinner with a gorgeous man who had the power to make her shake with excitement just thinking about him.
She sat in the car she’d borrowed from work, waiting outside the restaurant she’d chosen for Adam to arrive. The whole day had been a string of tension and fear, knowing that her father could have been watching her, tracking her wherever she went.
She’d showered and changed in the locker rooms at the Edge, hoping that he hadn’t gone so far as to bug the bathrooms. At the last minute, she hadn’t been able to climb into her own car. She just couldn’t take another minute of wondering whose eyes were on her. It was too creepy and unsettling.
Instead, she grabbed a set of keys and checked out a company car. At least this way she could have an evening out—a few hours to relax—before going back home to her fishbowl.
The restaurant Mira had picked for her date with Adam was one she’d never been to before. She didn’t want anyone using her habits against her.
It was an Italian place that seemed fairly innocuous. It wasn’t attached to a hotel. There were no veiled messages or awkward pressure. Just two people out to share a meal. No big deal. Normal people did this all the time.
Act normal.
Of course, had she done that, she would have stayed at work until ten and gone home to a bowl of cereal and a cheesy sci-fi movie. She would not be out on the town, on an actual date with—
There he was, getting out of a sleek black sedan. His long stride echoed confidence with each step. He didn’t look around or wonder if she’d show the way Mira had wondered about him. He moved like a man who knew she’d be here. No worries, no questions.
A shiver of excitement wriggled along her skin, dragging away a pile of tension she was more than ready to part with.
She got out of the car, anxious to speak to him again. Giddy, like a teenage girl, she hurried to the front door. The glass swept open, and there he was, holding the door for her to enter.
He’d seen her rush. She hadn’t been playing it cool the way women were supposed to do. The fact that he had to have seen her scurry made a blush heat her cheeks.
He smiled at her—a warm, genuine smile she felt all the way to the pinched toes she’d shoved into high heels. The added height hadn’t made much of a difference. He was still a head taller than her and most everyone else around.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, his quiet voice sliding inside her like a favorite tune.
“You knew I would. You can’t fool me.”
The place wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. The hostess seated them immediately.
That’s whe">TStd Roman Mira realized her mistake. This wasn’t some family restaurant with bright lighting and kids squirming in their seats. This place was dimly lit. Romantic. The booth backs were high. Curtains hung from the ceiling, gathered back at the end of each seat to give the illusion that each table was its own private room. A very small, very cozy room.
The hostess showed them to their table. Adam stood, waiting for her to sit.
Mira slid over the leather cushion, acutely aware of how dark it was here. The only real source of light was a few candles floating among rose petals in a crystal bowl of water at the center of the table.
Adam sat. The hostess left. He ignored the menu in front of him and stared at her with a knowing little smile tilting his mouth. “Nice place.”
Her blush grew hotter, and she ducked her head in an effort to hide it. “I, uh, didn’t realize it would be so . . . dark. I’ve never been here before.”
“I’m your first, then. Good to know.”
She was so not touching that comment. Instead, she stared at the menu as if the secrets to cold fusion and frictionless surfaces were printed there. The words swam together in an unintelligible pile of letters.
The waitress came. Adam ordered some wine for them. She didn’t care what kind,
so long as it would give her something to do with her hands.
“You’re nervous,” said Adam.
“Sorry. It’s been a rough day.” Which, while true, had nothing to do with the shivering tremors racking her fingers. That was all Adam’s doing—him and memories of that hard body and the way his thumb felt as it slid across her wrist.
Mira rubbed at the spot, willing the memory to fade.
Adam reached across the table and took her hand, turning her palm up for his inspection. His long fingers glided over her hand in a soothing gesture. Concern creased the skin between his dark brows. “Tell me what happened today.”
She couldn’t breathe. Not when he was touching her. She wasn’t normally so bowled over by a guy, but Adam was not just any guy. He was so confident and suave. So incredibly handsome. Even now he was holding her hand as if he’d been touching her for years, as if he knew just how she liked to be touched. The perfect pressure, all the right spots. The gentle little massage he gave the muscles at the base of her thumb was pure pleasure. It made her wonder how his hands would feel on the rest of her body.
Which made her struggle to breathe.
The waitress came to take their order. She still had no clue what was on the menu. She wasn’t even sure if it was written in English.
“She’s not ready,” he told the woman without taking his eyes off of Mira. “Soon.”
And just like that, Mira was thinking of more than just a plate of pasta and sauce. Adam’s low words, his direct gaze—it was all a devastating plot to make her look like a complete idiot, melted into a wriggling mass of needy hormones.
When she spoke, she sounded like a breathless twit. “I need my hand to read the menu.”
He grudgingly let go, but the smile he gave her was pure sin. “I’m always rushing things,” he said. “But sometimes it’s nice to eat dessert first, don’t you think?”
Think? Not a chance. Not while he was around. Her IQ had dropped a hundred points just being in the same room with him.
It was completely unfair. She’d never been this instantly drawn to a man, and he was going to think she was a drooling idiot before their salads arrived.
Mira gathered her formidable will and focused on the menu. She found something she liked and pointed to it when the waitress came back.
She clutched her glass of wine in both hands and drank, hoping to dial down her tension meter, just a bit.
“What do you do?” asked Adam. He sat back against the seat, his long arm sprawled across the top of the cushion. His shirtsleeves were turned up just enough that she could see his thick wrists and a peek of forearms layered with muscles.
She cleared her throat. “I’m a professional nerd.”
A black eyebrow shot up at that news. “Nerd?”
“I do tech stuff. Keep the networks at my office running. Tinker with gadgets. That kind of thing. What do you do?” Until now, she hadn’t realized that his business card hadn’t listed his title—only his contact information.
“I acquire rare objects for people.”
“Like art or something?”
“Sometimes,” he hedged. “What does your company do?”
“Private security, mostly.”
He grinned at that. “Ah. You’re a kick-ass mercenary, are you?”
“Hardly. I’m tech support. I do work with a bunch of kick-ass mercenaries, though. They keep trying to toughen me up. So far, it hasn’t exactly stuck.”
He leaned forward, a glint of wickedly delightful intent in his eyes. “I’m glad they failed. I like you the way you are, all feminine and soft.”
No one had ever called her that before. Girly? Yes, but in the sense that she wasn’t tough, sucked with weapons, and was terrified of spiders. Soft? Absolutely. Bella was always hinting that she should hit the gym—that she was too soft and one of these days it was going to get her hurt. But no one—ever—had said those things the way Adam had, as if they were good. As if he found those things attractive. As if he found her attractive.
The waitress saved her by delivering their food. Mira stared at it, so off-balance, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it.
He ate, watching her with those pale gray eyes. Hunger was evident in his expression, but she had no idea if it was for the food or something else. Ifthiman she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was trying to seduce her.
He was seducing her. She just wasn’t sure if he was trying or not. A man like Adam was walking seduction. Women probably fell at his feet, begging for his attention.
Mira managed a few bites, washing the food down with sips of wine. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the lack of sleep was beginning to wear on her. Fatigue made her eyelids heavy, and she set the wine aside for fear that she wouldn’t be able to make it safely home.
They spoke of random things while they ate. Adam’s choice of topics put her at ease, while his every move thrilled her to her core. She was an odd combination of relaxed and excited by the time they finished eating.
The waitress left the check. Mira reached for it, but Adam was faster.
She held out her hand. “Tonight is my treat. I owe you for the ruined clothes, remember?”
He shook his head, tucking some bills into the black leather folder. “I told you that you owe me nothing. But if you agree to have dinner with me again, I’ll let you pay next time.”
He wanted to go out with her again? After she’d sat there, alternately mute and stammering, floundering to sound like the intelligent grown-up she was? “Uh, okay.”
Adam checked his watch. “I have to go now. Early day tomorrow. May I walk you to your car?”
She wanted him to do more than that. She wanted him to run those hands all over her frumpy self. If he’d asked, she would have gone home with him, even though she’d met him only that morning. That’s how stupid he rendered her.
“Sure,” she said.
He checked his watch as they left. His hand was at the small of her back, sending a flurry of excitement marching up and down her spine.
Her heel slipped out from under her, making her stumble. Adam caught her against his side before she could fall.
He checked his watch again.
A wave of dizziness slammed into her from out of nowhere. She grabbed his arm to keep from tumbling to the pavement. He took her weight and kept her moving forward at a brisk pace.
“It’s okay. We’re almost there,” he said, his voice soothing.
She wasn’t sure what he meant. She couldn’t drive like this. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she was going to make it another three steps.
Mira stopped in her tracks, unable to stay
upright. A moment later, Adam swept her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this fast. I should have been more careful.”
“What?” she asked, confusion swamping her. All she could do was cling to his neck in the hopes that it would make the world stop spinning. She wanted to enjoy this ride and breathe in his heady scent, but her head was too twisty to hold it uy tto his npright.
“Shhh, Mira. Everything is going to be okay. I just need you to come with me for a little while.”
Adam tucked her into a seat and buckled the belt. There was something wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.
He appeared next to her and started the car. “Just lie back and relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
And that’s when Mira figured it out, just as the haze crowded her mind, sending her spiraling down in a wild spin of grogginess and fear.
Adam had drugged her. He was taking her somewhere. And the fact that he’d said he wasn’t going to hurt her meant that she was probably never going to wake up again.
Chapter Twenty-five
By nine, Clay had finished doing everything he could to be ready for pulling off his pretend hit. He didn’t dare move in too soon for fear of walking into some kind of trap. He had to be careful. Dr. Sage was still looking for him. He mig
ht even know where Clay was supposed to go.
Clay wasn’t going to give the doctor or anyone else a chance to find him. Staying hidden until the last minute was his best bet.
So now all that was left was the grueling wait—that time before an operation that crawled by, inching past in a series of torturous moments filled with impatience, anxiety, and second-guessing.
Leigh hadn’t said a word to him since they’d walked into the cheap little pay-by-the-hour motel room. She was as cold and standoffish as she’d been all night, keeping to her side of the room. She’d barely looked at him. Instead, she went through her medical supplies and gave him what he needed without a word.
Her silence grated on his already raw nerves, stretching his patience thin. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
She didn’t look at him. “It doesn’t seem like there’s much to talk about. You’ve already made your plans. I’ve already given you the drugs you need. What more do you want from me?”
He wanted her warmth. He wanted her to look at him with something other than frigid logic, shoving a cold, icy wall between them that he couldn’t seem to crack. He wanted her to touch him, so he could feel the heat of her fingertips sliding into his skin. But mostly, he wanted to hold her so that he could convince himself that everything was going to be okay.
Clay stood up and crossed the room to where she sat on the bed. The yellowish lighting glinted off her fiery hair, making it glow. “I want you to tell me why you’re mad.”
She looked up at him, frowning. “I’m not mad, Clay.”
“Then why the ice maiden routine?”
“Is that what you think this is?”
“I don’t know what else to call it. You’ve hardly spoken to me since we had sex. Is this some kind of buyer’s remorse kicking in?”
Her pupils flared at the mention of sex. Her lips parted slightly, and her tongue slipped out to wet them. She looked away as if the gaudy design on the bedspread was the most intriguing thing on the planet. “I don’t regret sleeping with you. But I also know that you and I don’t have any kind of a future together. You won’t ever trust me the way I want. I don’t blame you for it, but it seemed logical that I stop letting myself get closer to you. Nothing will ever come of it.”
Edge of Sanity: An Edge Novel Page 24
