She left the room, not giving him a chance to disagree. Not that he would have, when she’d finally decided to trust him.
When she returned downstairs a few minutes later, he’d tossed his pants, button-down, and socks in her dryer and set his gun and badge on her coffee table. He’d wrapped himself in a throw blanket he’d spotted tossed over the couch in her living room next to a paperback romance novel.
Her gaze slid over him, seeming to burn a trail across any exposed skin even as her lips quirked upward with obvious amusement. “Nice look.”
Then, she sank onto the other side of the couch, close enough to talk easily but not close enough to touch.
She’d changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, scrubbed her face clean of any makeup and pulled her hair out of the remnants of its bun. Now it fell in loose wet tangles past her shoulders, and he longed to reach out and run his hands through it, follow the trail of water that dripped down her bare arms.
Instead, he hugged the blanket more tightly to himself and told her, “Eric stopped by to check on you. I told him you were overtired, so I drove you home.”
She nodded, seeming uninterested, and he waited for her to ask him what was happening.
He expected her to want more details about the illegal gun sales. Or maybe to know whether he had any idea who her attacker was, why he’d come after her. When she finally did speak, her words were soft and surprising.
“Thanks for having my back, Davis. Thanks for making me feel like I have someone I can count on when everything in my world seems to be falling apart.”
* * *
SHE WAS BACK at work like nothing had happened, like someone hadn’t tried to kill her yesterday.
Leila shivered in the confines of her office, where no one could see how freaked out she was. She’d already turned the heat up several times, but it was never enough.
At least it was a Saturday. Far fewer employees here to notice her acting strangely, to wonder why. She and Davis had agreed that no one in the company should know what had happened to her yesterday evening. He’d told her the attack was from someone connected to a criminal enterprise, and that group might have been sold Petrov Armor pistols illegally. He still didn’t know why that person would attack her. Apparently, so far, the guy wasn’t talking. And somehow, Davis had managed to keep the police report out of the media.
Despite the fact that she’d probably been followed from the office yesterday, she felt safer here right now than she did at home by herself. It probably didn’t hurt that she’d started carrying a small pistol in her handbag. She planned to keep it there until she was sure the threat was over.
Even the idea of it made her slightly uncomfortable. Despite having sold weapons for so many years, she’d never liked firing one. The regular classes her dad had made her take, to stay refreshed in proper shooting technique, hadn’t changed that. But right now, she was glad for it. She touched the outline of the gun through her bag, then locked it in her desk drawer and tried to focus.
The plan had been to distract herself with work, but instead she was distracted by Davis. He’d come in to the office today, too, both because there would be fewer people to see him looking into things an assistant didn’t need to access and to stick close to her. He’d stuck close to her all last night, too, sleeping on her couch in whatever he’d had on beneath her blanket. She’d been up most of the night wondering about it.
But she’d managed to stay away from him, spent the night tossing and turning in her own bed. From the first day, she couldn’t help but have a physical attraction to Davis, which surely gave him an advantage as he dug for information. But yesterday had been different. Yesterday, he’d truly seemed shocked when he’d almost kissed her. The way he’d stared at her afterward... She was starting to believe he might actually be developing feelings for her.
The idea made her stomach flip-flop with nerves, made a smile tremble on her lips. But it could never come to anything. He was investigating her company. If she and Davis got together, it would put the integrity of the whole investigation in question, maybe even throw suspicion on her, even after they found the person responsible. Unlike a fling with a handsome FBI agent with an intriguing smile and admirable ethics, that suspicion could stick. It could destroy one of the few things in her life with any permanence. Her job.
“Leila.”
Her head popped up. She’d been so focused on her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed the door open, hadn’t even heard the knock that had probably preceded it.
“Eric.”
Her head of sales was shutting the door behind him, his eyebrows lowered with a concerned expression she recognized.
She held in a sigh, because he meant well. They both missed her father desperately. Eric had taken time off to grieve after the funeral, had called her every day, pushing her to do the same. But the idea of not coming into work, of trying to find some other way to fill her days to distract herself from the fact that her father was never coming back? Even now, it made her skin feel prickly with anxiety.
“What’s going on?”
She shook her head, thrown by his question. “What do you mean?”
“Something happened yesterday after you left work. You left your purse in your office. You never came back for your car. I drove all the way to your house and your assistant answered the door—dripping wet for some reason...”
He paused, like he was waiting for an explanation, then continued. “He swore you were fine, that you’d gone for a walk and realized you were too tired to drive, so he took you home. I would have pushed him aside and come in to check, but I heard the shower going upstairs. Leila, I know it’s not my business, but—”
“I’m not sleeping with my assistant, Eric,” she cut him off, hoping he wouldn’t notice the too-high-pitched tone to her voice. Or that if he did, he would accept it for what it mostly was—embarrassment.
“Good.” Eric’s eyebrows returned to a normal position on his face, but his tone was still troubled as he walked around to her side of her desk. Having him in her personal space felt odd, like they’d gone back in time to when they were more than just colleagues and friends.
“Leila, yesterday when I saw your car still here when I was ready to go home and then I came back inside and saw your purse, I panicked. I was really scared. I mean, after what happened to your dad...” He closed his eyes, blew out a breath that fanned across her face and finished, “It made me realize how much I miss you, Leila.”
A sudden rush of nerves and uncertainty made her feel too hot. She tried to play it off like his words weren’t a big deal. “You see me every day, Eric.”
He put his hands on her arms, slid them down to take her hands in his.
His touch was familiar, but still strange. Eric’s hands were bigger than she remembered, the skin rougher. But they were still warm, still comforting the way they’d been the very first time he’d held her hand when she was thirteen.
“I care about you, Leila.” He met her gaze steadily, his voice solid and clear. “Way more than I should, considering how long it’s been since we were together.”
Her heart rate picked up, but she tried to ignore how close he was standing, tried to act like it was normal for him to be holding her hands in her office. “We’ve been friends for a long time, Eric. We have a lot of history together. Of course you were worried.”
“Maybe we never should have broken up.”
She blinked back at him, speechless, as a mix of emotions surged inside her. Happiness, confusion and uncertainty. She’d waited so many years to hear those words from him. He’d been her first love, the one that got away.
But because it had been so many years ago, things had changed. Were they even the same people they’d been when they were in love? And why now? Was it just fear of losing her, grief over losing her father making him say things he’d later regret?
H
e knew her well enough that she was sure he sensed her hesitation, even before she said quietly, “Our time is gone.”
Saying the words out loud hurt, but it had been twelve long years since he’d broken her heart without a single word of explanation. Twelve years of them growing into the people they were now. Twelve years of working to forge a real friendship, without the baggage of their relationship.
“Don’t say that.” Eric shook his head, stepping even closer to her, so his feet touched hers and his lips were mere inches away. “Our time never should have ended, Leila.”
She blew out a breath that made him blink as the expelled air hit him. “You ended it, Eric. It was—”
“I did it because your dad asked me to stop seeing you.”
“What?” The shock of the words made her step backward. She pulled her hands free from his, suddenly colder than she’d been before he came into the office. The serious look in his eyes, one she knew so well, told her he wasn’t lying. “Why?”
Eric sighed, ran a hand through his blond hair, tousling it the way she’d loved as a teenager. “I swore to myself I’d never tell you, because I didn’t want you to be mad at him. He wanted you to have a clean break when you went to college. I fought with him over it, but he felt like it was important for you to find your own way, learn to be strong alone.”
He lifted his shoulders, a helpless look in his eyes. “I thought one day, he’d change his mind. But then you started working here and...honestly, it was awkward. I didn’t know how to be your colleague. I tried to be your friend. We both dated other people. Then you became my boss, and it was strange all over again. But there’s never been anyone like you, Leila. Never.”
She shook her head, totally at a loss for how to respond. Over the years, she’d dreamed so many times that Eric would change his mind, tell her he was a fool and wanted her back. In her dreams, she’d always leaped into his arms. She’d never imagined he’d tell her that her dad had instigated the breakup. She’d never thought she’d be unsure if she wanted him back.
“I get it,” Eric said, when she stayed silent. “This is a lot. But just think it over, okay? We can figure the company part out. I mean, this was your dad’s business, his dream. Maybe you and I can cash in our stock options and start over, partners in some new venture.” He smiled, his eyes hopeful. Then, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
As she continued to stare mutely at him, his smile grew, then he turned and headed for the door. He glanced back at her once more as he opened it to leave, then almost walked into Davis, who was standing in the doorway, scowling.
“Davis,” Eric said, giving the agent a nod as he maneuvered around him.
Then, Eric was gone and Davis shut the door and strode toward her like a man on a mission. She stared at him, still feeling stunned from Eric’s revelations. But the closer Davis got, the more she realized that he’d been in the back of her mind as she’d told Eric their time was over. The closer he got, the more all the nerve endings on her skin seemed to fire to life, the more shallow each breath became.
It made no sense. She barely knew Davis. Eric, she’d known forever.
“He’s not right for you,” Davis told her as he strode around her desk the same way Eric had.
“What?” He’d been listening in on their conversation? How much had he heard?
Instead of answering, he slid his hands around her waist and yanked her to him. Her body crashed into his, the hard planes of his chest stealing her breath even as she instinctively pressed tighter.
Then, his head ducked toward hers, his lips hovering a few centimeters away, actually brushing against hers as he asked, “Leila?”
She responded by pushing up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms tight around his neck and pressing her lips to his. The softness of his lips contrasted with the hardness of his kisses, then his tongue swept into her mouth. She felt it all the way down to her toes: no matter what happened in the future, this was exactly where she was supposed to be right now.
Chapter Thirteen
He’d kissed Leila Petrov. It hadn’t been some brief passionate mistake that had burned out as fast as it happened. No, the more he’d kissed her, the more he’d wanted. If they hadn’t been in her office...
His ability to look at this case impartially was blown. He needed to come clean with Pembrook, ask her to pull him out. The next logical step would be to get warrants and have the FBI go in full force, the way he’d told Leila.
No matter how quietly they tried to execute something like that, word would get out. Someone would take a video on their phone of FBI agents going into the office or talk to the press. No matter who turned out to be behind this, it would put a stain on Leila’s company that might destroy it. He didn’t want to do that to her.
“You’re getting too close to her.”
Kane’s voice made Davis jerk and spin toward his colleague. He didn’t need to ask who Kane meant, didn’t bother to justify why he’d responded immediately when he’d felt his phone buzzing with an incoming text. Why he’d rushed right over when Kane’s message said they wanted to give him a debrief on the BECA meet. He’d just pulled his lips slowly away from Leila’s, skimming his hands along her skin as he extracted himself. Trying to memorize the feel of her lips and skin and hair, the dazed look in her gorgeous brown eyes. Knowing he couldn’t let it happen again.
He needed to regain his professionalism. Because no matter what he should do, he wasn’t asking Pembrook to pull him out of his cover. He was seeing this case through to the end.
Ignoring Kane’s statement, he demanded, “What the hell happened out there?”
“Melinda happened.” Kane pursed his lips, glanced around like he was afraid their fellow TCD agent would hear, then held open the door to the conference room.
Inside, Melinda was waiting, a laptop in front of her. She was dressed in one of her standard high-neck blouses, her hair loosely styled, with minimal makeup. There was no indication she’d overheard Kane in the hallway, but the tension on her face and the scrapes covering her arms suggested the meet had gone even worse than Davis had realized.
“We think we know what happened with Leila,” Melinda said even before he and Kane were seated.
Kane scowled as she looked at him pointedly, but he spoke up. “My CI set up the meet for me. He told the BECA contact that I’d had someone here willing to sell me guns illegally, but it fell through. I probed a little, trying to see if I’d get a reaction. Said my contact was inside Petrov Armor, but it seemed like the illegal gun sales there dried up when the new CEO stopped the legal side of the gun distribution. He texted someone right after I said that.” Kane cringed. “I’m sorry, man. Given the timing...”
The person Kane’s BECA contact had texted was the man who’d followed Leila from her office and tried to kill her. That guy still wasn’t talking, and Kane’s contact was now dead.
Davis’s hands fisted hard under the table and he could feel his heart beat faster, rushing blood to those hands, ready to fight. But he pushed back the instinct, nodded tightly. It was a logical move on Kane’s part. They knew someone inside Petrov Armor was selling guns off the books. Bringing it up was what any good investigator—one who wasn’t blinded by a target in the investigation—would do.
“The good news is, that tells us something,” Melinda said, her gaze darting from him to Kane and back again.
“The guy you were meeting with didn’t know why the gun production was halted. Once he realized who was to blame, he wanted revenge,” Davis stated, a million possible implications running through his mind. If BECA members really had been getting guns off the books from someone at Petrov Armor, they’d probably been feeling the pinch since Leila stopped gun production. The inside source couldn’t get as many guns out without drawing attention. Typically, someone in that position would tell their customer about their pain. The fact that the seller hadn�
�t told BECA the guns were drying up because of Leila probably meant that person was protecting her, didn’t want BECA or any other buyers to know she’d been the one who’d shut things down.
“It seems more and more likely that Leila’s dad was in charge of the illegal gun sales. And that his partner killed him because of what Leila did. Maybe he’d meant to just threaten him, try to get him to restart production, but the threat went wrong, and Neal ended up dead. It probably took about a year for their stock to run out to the point where the illegal sales would be noticed. Turning to cheap armor to bank the extra money isn’t working out the way this person expected,” Kane said.
“Leila said the excess guns were destroyed, but I assume that’s just what she was told, and Neal or his partner simply moved the remainder to sell off books. But what if it wasn’t Neal?” Davis thought of the picture Leila kept on the credenza behind her desk. An image of her and her father, sitting next to each other at some outdoor function, both of them with heads thrown back and laughing. “What if he was never involved at all?”
Kane’s lips turned up in a “give me a break” expression. “Your objectivity is shot.”
“Maybe,” Davis admitted, because the truth was that he didn’t want Leila’s father to be involved. Not because of anything to do with the investigation. Simply because he didn’t want Leila to feel that kind of betrayal from the father she’d loved so much and who she’d barely begun to grieve.
“But hear me out,” Davis pressed when Kane looked like he was going to keep theorizing how the attack pointed even more to Leila’s father being involved. “Her father has been dead for three weeks. If his partner killed him because he was angry that Neal supported Leila’s decision to stop the gun side of the business, why didn’t he tell his customers as soon as Neal was out of the way? If it was just Neal who was trying to hide Leila’s involvement, why wouldn’t his partner spill what had happened as soon as he killed Neal? Wouldn’t he have bragged to BECA that he was going to turn things around, get the guns flowing again? Three weeks after Neal’s death, why wouldn’t they already know who was to blame, before Kane told them?”
Secret Investigation (Tactical Crime Division Book 2) Page 12
