by Jill Shalvis
He cranked up her radio until the windows were almost shaking. She reached out and turned it off. “Was it?”
“This is about you, not me.”
“Was it before you came to Rio?” she asked, her voice softer now.
When he glanced at her again, he could see her eyes matched her voice. Both were full of compassion, empathy, and such sweet innocence—God, just like Mary Jo’s—he found himself unable to speak.
She cared about him. Despite his best efforts to be distant, she cared a lot, and that was his fault, too. He didn’t deserve her to look at him like that. Didn’t deserve any of it.
“Rick,” she whispered, laying her hand on his arm. “Tell me. I want to understand.”
Her touch was like a drug, easy to swallow and majorly addictive, so much so that he actually found himself leaning toward her.
“You lost someone,” she guessed.
“Yeah.”
“Before here.”
“She died in the States.”
“You...loved her.”
“Yeah.” He inhaled deeply and kept driving. “I was a federal marshal before. And a SEAL before that. I was good at what I did. Until I fell for a witness and let my emotions blind me.”
“She betrayed you?”
“No. I betrayed her. I slacked off on the job, thinking she was safe if she was with me. She wasn’t. And now she’s dead.”
“Oh, Rick.”
“Forget it. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I am so very sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” He said nothing else, and neither did she, until he pulled down his street. He’d taken a series of wrong turns on purpose, hoping they hadn’t been tailed.
“You will not let me down,” she whispered when he turned off the car. “I believe in you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do.”
He could hardly breathe. Looking at her was the most painful thing he’d done since burying Mary Jo, but she was waiting for him, open and warm and accepting. “Don’t,” was all he could say.
She merely let out a small smile and entwined her fingers with his.
He’d have to be a real ass to pull away, but that was what he wanted to do.
As if she knew it, she leaned close and kissed him on the cheek, her mouth soft and sweet.
“What was that for?” His voice was as harsh as he could muster with a lump the size of a regulation football in his throat. “For handcuffing us together, or for yelling at you, or for—”
“For caring.” She got out of the car.
She was out in the open and he was staring after her like a love-struck teen. Swearing at his own stupidity, he scrambled out and followed her.
His apartment was on the third floor, and since the elevator rarely worked, they started up the stairs. No one ambushed them, no one followed, and for now, she was safe.
Unlocking the door, he went in first by habit, checking to make sure the place was clear.
He led her into the living room, kicking at an old sweatshirt he’d tossed on the floor. It landed under the sofa, which was also where he toed a forgotten newspaper and an old paper plate.
“It is nice,” she said, and he had to laugh.
“Yeah, if you like old and used and dirty.” It was dark now, so he flipped on some lights.
“It is old, yes.” She looked around, assessing. “And used. But warm. It is a home.”
“Face it, even your maid wouldn’t live here.”
“I do not have a maid. I like to clean myself.”
Why was he arguing with her? He could see the exhaustion in the fine lines around her eyes. “Look, it’s early, but I think you should go to sleep.”
She sat on the couch and nodded, stifling a yawn.
“Not there,” he said, trying not to notice how very appealing she looked sitting all cozy in his house. “You can have my bed.”
Her gaze jerked up to meet his. “Rick—”
“I’ll take the couch,” he clarified, nearly swallowing his tongue at her unmistakable look of disappointment.
Big trouble, Singleton.
“I do not wish to disrupt your life.”
“Why not? I sure as hell disrupted yours.” He pulled her up, and when she stumbled, caught her against him.
She merely sighed and put her head on his chest.
The gesture, one of trust and even more, made him physically hurt. Damn it, damn it. “Nina. Don’t.”
“I wish you would stop with the cool and tough.” She lifted her face, nuzzling it against his throat. “I understand, but I wish...”
Each word she spoke had her lips tickling his skin, and the ball of attraction knotted in his gut burst into flame. “This is who I am,” he said, his teeth knocking together with the effort not to grab her and hold on. “Cool and tough.”
“You do not have to hide yourself, not from me.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Yes, but I can be strong, too, Rick.”
Yeah, he was getting that—she was strong as hell, and it was damned arousing. He pulled back, took her hand and led her to the bedroom.
“I have it figured out,” she told his back. “You are keeping your distance so you can protect me.”
“The bathroom is right through there if you need it.”
“I do not need protection from you.”
Which left it open...what did she need from him? He was afraid he knew. “Call out if you need anything.”
“You know what I need. You need it, too.”
Looking down into her stubborn features, he let out his breath. “Don’t complicate things. We’re stuck with each other, at least for the night. Let the rest go.”
“But—”
“If you want to talk, Nina, if you’re not too tired, we will. You’ll tell me everything. About Terry, and where she is. About why you’ve got trouble tailing you. We’ll discuss it all. And while we’re at it, what was the name of that friend of Terry’s? The one in the yearbook?”
“I...don’t remember.”
“If you’d only tell me, I could find Terry and be done with all this. The end.”
Her voice went cool, her eyes hot. “Good night.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He watched her turn toward the bed, but because he couldn’t handle actually seeing her climb into it, he left.
And wandered the apartment. He couldn’t have shut his eyes if he tried. Not without remembering the terror in Nina’s face when he’d shown up at her place on her heels, witnessing the destruction.
She was in danger, but why? And why now?
And from whom?
Sinking to the couch, he tilted his head up and stared at the ceiling, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but he was missing too much.
All he knew for certain was that he couldn’t let anything happen to her, not on his watch.
That she was on his watch at all really got to him, but then again, so did her huge, expressive eyes, and the way she fit against him as if she’d been made for the spot.
Aw, hell. This was bad. Very bad.
Pushing to his feet, he paced the room, trying to put facts together. One, he’d gone looking for Terry and had found Nina. Two, someone besides him was looking for...what?
Terry?
If he and Mitch knew Terry wasn’t dead, which they did, then it was a good possibility someone else knew as well.
But who? And who besides the authorities had any stake in bringing Terry back?
All was silent in the back end of his apartment, too silent. He went down the hall, just to check on her, he told himself. It had nothing to do with needing to see her, or needing to assure himself she was okay.
Still dressed, the light still on, Nina lay on his bed, curled into a tight little ball on her side. Her hands were tucked in close to her body, her mouth curved into a little frown.
He slipped off her shoes. She didn’t budge.
He pulle
d the covers up for her, unable to resist stroking his fingers over her arm.
In her sleep, she jerked.
“Shhh,” he whispered, dancing his fingers over her cheek. He’d been so long without human touch, and though she didn’t touch him back, it felt...good. “You’re safe,” he murmured, the heart he’d feared dead cracking. Defrosting. “You’re safe.”
At his voice, she turned toward him, still deeply asleep. Her frown slowly dissipated, and all he could do was stare at her.
He’d made her feel better, with just his voice and his touch.
How could that be?
He didn’t want to mean anything to anyone, and certainly not her, a woman who deserved far better than the likes of him.
He didn’t want her to mean anything to him, either, but she did. Somehow she did.
How had this happened in such a short time? How had it come down to him not just wanting to finish this job and find Terry for Mitch, but also making sure this woman, this amazing, resilient, beautiful, intelligent woman, was safe?
Sleeping peacefully now, Nina burrowed further in his covers. Rick sank to the edge of the bed and watched her.
A long time passed like that; Nina lost in dreamland, and he lost in the watching.
Just looking at her hurt, and he wished... Hell. He didn’t even know.
CHAPTER NINE
NINA WOKE UP rumpled, exhausted and disoriented. With her eyes still closed, she stretched, but instead of luxurious, expensive silk, she felt... rough jersey cotton?
Eyes jerking open, she took in the small but masculine room, and it all came rushing back to her.
Rick.
Her apartment.
Rick.
He’d let her sleep in his bed, the entire night if the clock that read nine o’clock was any indication, and he hadn’t taken advantage of her.
Darn it, what was wrong with him?
He’d withdrawn from her, no doubt about it. She’d allowed herself to hope and dream...but there was nothing for it, not now. He’d decided to be cool and distant, and as he was the most stubborn person she’d ever met, she doubted anything could change his mind.
Certainly not his past, which ripped at her. He’d suffered, and she knew that the pain and guilt were still raw for him.
It was selfish to wish things could be different, and she was so rarely selfish, but she felt it now.
Lord, her life had gone to pot. After agonizing over that for a moment, she decided to stick to her earlier plan. She’d go see Baba. She knew there was no news, but she felt the urge to see her old nanny. If only for comfort.
If, as she suspected, there was really nothing new, then she had little choice. She would trust Rick enough to help her help Terry, and hope that along with her trust, he might give her his.
With that decision made, she sat up and shoved her hair out of her face. It was time for action.
Climbing out of the big, cozy bed that smelled just like Rick, she grabbed the small bag she’d taken from her condo and headed for the shower. There were many things she would have to do today, the least of which would be figuring out exactly how to get to see Baba without Rick following her, but first a shower. In her day-old clothes and makeup, which had long ago smudged off, she felt exposed. She wasn’t ready for exposed, not with Rick.
The water was hot and steamy, just as she liked it, and she forced herself to hurry so there’d be hot water for Rick if he wanted a shower.
She wondered how he’d slept.
She knew how he looked when he slept. As magnificent as he looked doing everything else. All those years of chasing after bad guys, running and hiding and whatever else it was he did, had honed his lean muscular frame into a mouthwatering art form. Just thinking about it made her entire body throb. Everywhere she washed, then everywhere she dried off with his towel felt like an open, erotic nerve, and she knew for the first time in her life she had it bad.
She wanted him.
Now she understood Terry a bit better, the hunger that had always driven her sister to chase after one man or another.
And she wasn’t sure she liked it.
When she had some makeup on, and a full ensemble that would be acceptable to go from seeing Baba to the office, Nina looked at herself in the mirror.
Normally she saw a cool-eyed, restrained woman, the same woman she let people see. But that woman was gone, replaced by a bright-eyed, frightened, real woman.
Somehow, she’d come to be...well, herself. And Rick had seen her this way. She’d let him in past the obedient little sister-daughter-businesswoman. He’d seen her, really seen her, as no one else ever had.
She would deal with that.
Later.
First up, she had to escape long enough to do what she had to do.
She found him in the small kitchen, wearing faded, threadbare jeans and nothing else, standing at the stove scrambling eggs.
The sight of him cooking, chest bare, belly flat, hair sticking straight up, scrambled her brain as surely as those eggs in the pan.
Craning his neck, he peered at her from sleepy eyes that became instantly wide-awake and heated.
“Good morning,” she said, a little breathless. His back was sleek and smooth and tough with sinew. His front was sleek, too, and rippled with strength.
She could look at him all day long and never get used to how good he looked.
This had never happened before.
Her one serious boyfriend had been in college. She’d lost her virginity to him, and then he’d moved on. She’d declined to share herself again, and had no other experience of intimacy to draw on. “Um...thank you for your bed.”
His gaze traveled up her body slowly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“No.”
“I am sorry. Was the couch too small? Too uncomfortable?”
“Yes, but that wasn’t the problem.”
“Problem?”
“Yeah.” He set down the spatula. “Truth?”
“Uh...okay, yes.”
“I couldn’t stop dreaming about you sprawled out in my bed.”
She nearly staggered backward at the intensity of his gaze. “In this dream...were we together?”
One brow arched to the middle of his forehead.
“Oh,” she said quickly. “We were....” She was breathless. “Was I...naked?”
His green, green eyes darkened. “Most definitely naked.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Was I... good?”
“You were good. You were hot.”
She felt hot now.
His voice was low, thick. “Last night was the first time I’ve ever had a sleep-over with a woman without actually even sleeping with her.”
“Last night was the first night I ever had a sleepover with a man, other than the night before. Which was also with you.” She hadn’t meant to say that. He made her tongue loose, he made her loose.
He looked uneasy. “You mean...without sleeping?”
“Period.”
They stared at each other for a long, long moment, then the toast popped up, making Nina jump.
“Hungry?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just rocked her world. “I’ve got eggs and toast.”
What she was hungry for had nothing to do with food, and she was fairly certain he felt the same. Not that he was going to act on that hunger, which was good.
Nerves were dancing in her stomach. “I need to get to the office.”
“Okay.” He scooped the eggs onto two plates and, nudging her into a chair, set one in front of her. “I’ll take you.”
“That is not necessary.”
“I’ll take you,” he repeated, handing her a fork. “Then I’ll go pick up my bike.”
“I am going to be busy all day.”
“So am I.” He shoveled in some eggs from his plate and didn’t look at her.
Appetite gone, she set down her fork. “Doing...?”
“Checking out the library. Do yo
u still have that yearbook with you?”
“Yes.”
“I want the name of that friend.”
“But why the library?”
“I’m going to look at any microfiche I can find of the boating accident.”
He wasn’t giving up. That should cheer her, make her feel as if she could be open with him, but instead, for some reason, it terrified her.
“Eat,” he said, gesturing to her untouched plate.
She forced a smile. “Funny, but for a man who claims not to want anyone in his life or his heart, you sure take care of people well.”
He went still for a moment, then shrugged. “I was hungry myself, that’s all.”
“It had nothing to do with anything else?”
A frown crossed his face. “Such as?”
“Such as maybe you care about me.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I care about you in the way I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said carefully.
“But you do not trust me.”
Now his smile was back. “No more than you trust me, sweetheart.”
* * *
IT WASN’T QUITE as easy to ditch Rick Singleton as she’d imagined. He took her to her office as promised, but when she walked toward the building, slowly, hoping he’d vanish so she could get back into her car and go see Baba, he was still there. Leaning against the car, feet crossed.
Watching.
When he saw her looking at him, he lifted a hand and waved.
But didn’t budge.
With a sigh, she went inside the building, then peeked out a window, watching as Rick finally caught a cab. She knew he was off to get his bike, then to the library. And given their archaic library system, compared with the one in States, she was satisfied he’d be gone a good long while.
She stuffed the financial file she’d brought for John Henry into his mail slot. Dodging back into the heat without checking in, she got into her car and started along the highway, becoming more and more unsettled as she drove.
No big deal, she told herself. She was just visiting Baba. No one would think it strange.
No one would think to try to find Terry through Baba.
But because that was one of Nina’s biggest fears, that somehow she would lead someone to Terry through actions she considered innocent, she drove faster.
When she arrived, she parked on the street and walked up the curved, crumbling walkway to the teeny house her father had bought Baba when she’d retired. It was an old but beautiful place, overlooking the sea.
