by Hart, Taylor
Too bad for this Antonio that Blaine was trained to not react. He wasn’t going to give him any information he didn’t want to give. “Hey, you left them.”
He turned and kept staring at the artwork. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching Antonio from the corner of his eye. He’d already noted the guy might be packing heat at the back of his waistband, because his hand had jerked like it was ready to pull.
Blaine looked at the picture of a flower and pointed to it. “She’s talented, though, right?”
A tight silence reigned.
“You better tell me where she is before I call the cops!” Antonio’s voice had pitched quickly. He barreled toward him. “I want some answers!”
Before Blaine could make a move to intercept him, Elena burst out of the bathroom. “Stop it, Antonio! Just stop it!”
Antonio reared back, his eyes wide. “What is going on, Elena?” He gestured to Blaine. “I come here and find this Neanderthal? Wearing my clothes!”
It didn’t bother Blaine that Antonio called him a Neanderthal. In fact, coming from him, it felt like a compliment.
At the moment, Elena was fire and spunk, and she held up a hand. “I don’t owe you any kind of explanation, but this is my friend, Blaine Hammerton. We have an engagement today, so I would appreciate it if you would leave.”
“An engagement?” Blaine sputtered, caught off guard by her wording.
Elena glanced at Blaine, looking out of sorts. “Not engagement. We have a date.”
Antonio lip curled into a snarl. “A date?”
Rolling her eyes, Elena glared at Antonio. “My friend is in town and needed a place to crash.”
Both of them turned to Blaine. Blaine kept his expression neutral, not liking the use of the term “friend” in regards to his and Elena’s relationship.
Elena turned back to Antonio, her words tight. “I told you, Antonio. It’s not going to work out.”
Antonio scowled, then ran a hand over his face. “Elena, it was a bad night last night. I shouldn’t have asked like that, but we need to talk about it.”
“No, I don’t need to talk. Please go,” Elena said evenly.
Antonio’s nostrils widened. “Are you having a fling?” he sputtered. “Is that what this is? Some kind of fling?” More distaste pinched up the guy’s face, and he looked between her and Blaine. “C’mon, Elena, you won’t even do that with me. And I’ve known you a long time.”
She glared at him. “Leave.”
“We are meant to be together, and you know it.” Antonio took a step closer to her.
Blaine ached to feel the guy’s flesh against his knuckles, and his hand clenched into a fist.
“No, we’re not. Please leave,” Elena said calmly, taking a step back.
Antonio didn’t budge, only crossed his arms. “So does this mean you’re not coming to Washington? Your father is speaking out for sanctuary communities. You know how important this issue is to his platform.”
Elena froze. Then her face softened. “Last night was important to me, and he didn’t come.”
Antonio shrugged. “You know he’s busy.”
“I’m busy too,” she said. Her lip trembled, but her chin stuck out defiantly.
There was a moment when Antonio didn’t move, only stared at Blaine in a threatening manner, and Blaine wondered if he would get to punch the guy. Finally, Antonio turned and followed her to the elevator. He cursed in Spanish. “Your father won’t be happy, and you know that will make him reluctant to help you on the bills this month.”
Money. Now Blaine got it. It made sense. A senator’s daughter. He’d suspected she came from money, but clearly, Papa controlled the purse.
Her cheeks reddened with humiliation. “Go,” she repeated.
Antonio ignored it and crossed his arms. “Ya know, I don’t think I will. Why don’t you cancel the ‘engagement’ or ‘date’ today with Mr. Whoever Is Wearing My Clothes, and let’s talk.”
Elena’s jaw tightened, but her eyes misted. “No.”
“Elena, we can’t—”
Blaine was done with this. “The lady says she wants you to leave.” He didn’t move, but he did make himself bigger, copying Antonio’s stance by crossing his arms and giving him the “I’ll hunt you down” look.
Antonio glowered at Blaine. “Watch yourself, amigo. I have dangerous friends.”
Blaine wanted to laugh at the threat. “I’m sure you do.”
They were in a standoff.
Finally, Blaine couldn’t stand it, so he gravitated toward Elena’s side.
She glared at Antonio. “Get out.”
Antonio glowered at Blaine, then at Elena. “Don’t do something you won’t be able to take back.” He stepped all the way into the elevator, and the doors closed. All the tension vanished from the air as the elevator descended.
Elena turned to Blaine, quickly moving back into the apartment. “I’m sorry.”
Blaine was hyped up, ready to fight, but he kept calm. What could Blaine really expect? He was the intruder in her life. “Don’t worry about it.”
She let out an unsteady breath and went to the kitchen.
He followed her. Yes, he reminded himself. This break from reality wasn’t real anyway. He raked a hand through his hair. “I should be the one that’s sorry.” Again, he asked himself what he was still doing here. He gestured to the elevator. “You have a life. You have … I shouldn’t have stayed. I just couldn’t stomach going back to his apartment last night.” He started to turn, even though he really didn’t want to dismiss himself. “I should get my things and go.”
She got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. “Is that what you want?”
He paused and stared into her eyes. Those deep pools of green called to him. All he wanted was to stay with this woman. “No, it’s not what I want.”
“It’s not what I want either.”
He didn’t say anything. Of course, he didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to blow up her world.
Glancing at him, she put the glass down and looked around the kitchen. “Thanks for cleaning up.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So are we finding out what the key belongs to or not?” she asked, her lips pressing together.
He lifted an eyebrow. As much as he wasn’t done talking about whatever was happening with Antonio, they’d have to set it aside for now. “Let’s go.”
She put up a hand. “Remember, you promised me lunch first.”
Chapter 5
“You really want a hot dog?” Blaine stared at the hot dog in her hand like it was rat poison.
Elena let out a light laugh. “You haven’t had a hot dog until you’ve had a New York hot dog. These are my favorite. Note the spicy brown mustard on top and the sauerkraut.”
Blaine looked at his own dog skeptically, then took a huge bite. After a few chews, he said, “You really eat these often?”
“Oh, c’mon! Really?”
He flashed her a smile, and she could tell it was fake. “Oh, wait, it’s good.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your taste in food disappoints, soldier.”
“I’m surprised you can stay so slim eating this way,” he said with a scoff.
It made her smile. She knew she was considered tiny. “Fast metabolism.” She took her own bite and wiped the mustard that fell on her hand with a napkin. “Hot dogs are life in New York. Better get used to them if you’re going to be spending any time here.”
“I’m not,” he said curtly.
She took a second to process that. “O-kay.”
He evaluated the hot dog again and took another bite. “I’ve had worse. I’m just surprised they’re a part of your regimen.”
“I don’t think regimen is what you could call my eating patterns. See, I mostly live on coffee and chocolate,” she said, ticking them off her fingers. “Oh, and popcorn. Pretty much I forget to eat and then feel like passing out and grab something as fast as I can.”
>
“Low blood sugar,” Blaine said quickly. “You gotta take care of yourself.”
“Yeah,” she said, finding it interesting the guy was already telling her what to do.
Blaine looked around the streets.
She put a hand in front of his face. “Yoo-hoo?” When his gaze swiveled back to her, she frowned. “Look, I don’t think I’m a needy date, but you are not here with me. You’re somewhere else.”
He took another bite, chewing slowly. “So this is a date?” The side of his lip went up.
Nervous angst wove through her. “No, I mean, I—”
“Right, we’re figuring it out later, remember?” He kept his eyes on her as he pulled her into him, gently kissing the side of her cheek. “Shh, act natural.”
“What?” She tried to pull back, feeling out of sorts by his lips brushing her skin.
He whispered in her ear. “There’s a potential threat carrying a gun at nine o’clock. There’s a woman who’s casing everyone who walks past at two o’clock. There’s a guy who hasn’t stopped looking at us at four o’clock. Now laugh, pretend I said something funny, and then kiss me back on the cheek.”
Her heart rate kicked up a notch. This was crazy, but she laughed. Unfortunately, it sounded fake and high-pitched.
Out of the blue, some guy rushed at her and ripped her purse strap off of her. At the exact moment she was sure he would dismember her, the guy whipped out scissors and cut it, dashing off even faster.
“Hey!” she yelled.
Without missing a beat, Blaine was on the guy—tackle completed, possession retrieved, and some hidden kicks administered that the guy would feel for some time.
Blaine circled back to her. He didn’t miss a stride as he took her by the arm and kept with the flow of people traffic.
She was stupefied. “We are just leaving that guy,” she whispered to Blaine.
Without looking at her, he nodded. “Unless you want to go back for a couple more kicks.” Blaine gave her a funny smile, putting his arm around her and keeping her close.
Uncertain, she let herself be guided by this … this … would the correct word be Herc? Her brain was failing to tell her what kind of Greek god he was, but he wasn’t Romeo. That was for sure. No, Romeo, she was pretty sure, couldn’t dispense with a criminal so quickly. “What in the …”
“Don’t stop. Just keep walking toward the bank.”
It was like all the potential threats he’d named off didn’t matter. He just pulled her along.
The most interesting about going along with this man was that she felt completely safe with him. He kept her close. At different points, he would wait and adjust his body to put her at his side or behind him. “The bank’s up ahead. Maybe they’ll have answers for us.”
“I’ve lived in New York all my life and only actually been mugged one time.” She blew out a breath. “Besides today.”
The look he gave her told her he didn’t care what she wanted, but he relaxed his energy and pulled back a bit. “Listen, it’s like the Avengers. It’s not always about you being a potential target. Sometimes, it’s about what you bring to the fight even before the fight begins, and that makes you a target.”
He was talking nonsense, and she wasn’t completely up on her superhero stuff. “I’ve never seen the Avengers.”
“What? Are you serious?”
She laughed because he acted like she’d committed a crime. “Yep.”
His eyes widened. “Wow.”
“I don’t believe I’m more of a target because I’m with you.” Although she did notice people actively watching them. Maybe because Blaine was such a presence. He was tall and built, and he wasn’t acting small and melting.
“You were just attacked, and you still don’t believe it?”
“Well, maybe.” She frowned and thought of him coming into the gallery last night. The way he’d treated her like she would burn the place down before he’d told her about the key. The lost way he’d shown her the key he’d been given. He hadn’t seemed like a threat last night, but after what she’d just witnessed, it was undeniable that he could handle himself. “This is all crazy.”
“Do you know how to take care of yourself?”
She shrugged, thinking of a self-defense class she’d gone to in college. “Like go for the eye?”
He looked her up and down, shaking his head. “Taser. You need a taser.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, knowing she didn’t want to carry one of those around.
They went through a revolving door and ended up in Bank of New York. It was huge, but Blaine took control, gripping her hand again and moving to the customer service desk. “I need to talk with someone about a key that might belong to this bank.”
The customer service teller frowned, then nodded. “I can let you talk to someone about the safety deposit boxes.”
Blaine nodded in return.
Still feeling a bit off balance after everything, Elena herself watching Blaine carefully. She found it interesting that he was so serious. It was like a mask had gone up from the man who had eaten pancakes with her and read her Shakespeare in a lawn chair. And now she was seeing the real soldier who knew how to handle any situation.
His ice-blue eyes met hers, and she felt his intensity. The edge of his lip turned up. He leaned into her. “You okay?”
The truth was that she wasn’t sure. “Yep.” She relaxed and stepped a little away from him. “You just make everything seem so dangerous. I have come to this bank once a week for years, and I’ve never noticed all the risks while walking here.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I told you, too many potential risks. You need a Taser.”
It intrigued Elena, the focus, intensity, and complete control this man exuded. She knew now that relaxation was not his natural state of being. No, this man was a SEAL. A trained killer, she reminded herself. “No thanks.” It felt like his world was a scary world. “I don’t like thinking about ‘potential risks.’”
A mustached man walked toward them with the customer service guy.
Blaine pulled out the key and showed it to him.
The mustached man took the key and shook his head. “No, not our bank. Actually, not a bank at all. I would say it’s a locker somewhere.”
Blaine took the key back. “Where would you say the locker is?”
“I would look at Grand Central Station.” He shrugged. “It’s an older key. It could be a lot of different places or stations or amusement parks.”
“Thank you.” Blaine took Elena by the lower part of her back and gently pushed her back to the front door and out of the bank. They were in a sea of people, but Blaine was moving them toward the curb. He put out his hand, hailing a cab.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
A cab materialized out of nowhere. It always took Elena forever to get a cab. He opened the door for her, and they got in.
Blaine pulled out his phone and tapped something on it. “Grand Central,” he told the driver, then turned and winked at her. Their eyes held for a second. “Do you still want to come with me?”
Adrenaline spiked through her. She didn’t know what it was about this man. Maybe it was his shameless hotness. No. Maybe it was his confidence? No. She searched the ice blue of his eyes, and she thought of the man who had held the key out last night. The way all of his walls had gone down when he’d shown her the key. According to what he’d told her last night, she knew that, for Blaine, trusting someone meant something. “I’ll go with you, Herc.”
His eyes narrowed. “Herc?”
Unable to stop herself, she smiled at him. “That’s what I thought of last night when I looked into your face with that strong jaw.” Gently, she reached out and traced it.
All kinds of chemistry crackled between them.
Lightly, she touched his brow. She brushed a hand from his shoulder to his elbow. “I’ve been wanting to paint you. The determined glint in your eyes. The stature of a man like you.” She exhaled. �
��You’re Hercules.”
He chuckled as if he found her words unbelievable. “A Greek god? I’ll have to tell the guys that one.”
She pulled her hand back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t do that.”
Looking amused, he cocked a brow. “It’s fine.”
Tentatively, she continued touching his face, running her fingers along his jawline, lost in the image already. “Hercules means ‘Glory of Hera.’” Excitement sped up her heartbeat, and she ached for her canvas. “Of course, like most people in Greek stories, he had a crazy life filled with unreliable parents and his own bouts of craziness, but he performed twelve impossible feats to pay for his madness.”
He grunted. “Sounds nice.”
At his tone, she pulled back. “Yeah, I don’t think Hercules had a Juliet, though. He was kind of a womanizer.”
Blaine hesitated. “Then I’m not Hercules.”
It felt like he was saying something else. “You’re not?”
He put his hand softly over hers. “Naw. I think I’ll take Juliet, even if that makes me Romeo.”
The moment went slow between them. She looked at his lips and wanted to kiss him, but felt so confused as to why everything always felt so heightened with this man.
Blaine pulled his hand back. “I think the guys on my team pretty much think I’m a monk, so Hercules definitely wouldn’t work.”
“Really? You don’t have a girlfriend or …” She trailed off. “Never mind. I don’t deserve to ask those personal questions.” She thought of Antonio, and irritation wove through her. “Not after you walked into all my stuff with Antonio.” How would she deal with Antonio? He wasn’t the kind of man to take her brush-off lying down.
Blaine pulled back and let out a laugh. “I don’t care what you deserve; I don’t play that way. I want to tell you. I don’t have a girlfriend.” The side of his lip tugged up. “I don’t have a woman who is trying to propose either.”
She rolled her eyes, embarrassment washing over her. “Right.”
His hand touched hers. “Believe me, I know life is messy. I had everything figured out until I stumbled into your gallery last night. Now …” He studied her face. “Now I’ve got nothing figured out.”
