Hidden Impact

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Hidden Impact Page 9

by Piper J. Drake


  “Not really.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It was just a few thoughts under your breath. You’re doing great.”

  “Pfft. Sure. I’ve seen TV shows like this. I’m about to try for a graceful exit and trip over my own two feet.” But the idea of him catching her, maybe the two of them falling to the floor... Oy. She’d been watching too many dramas in the kitchen over food prep.

  His chuckle was low, sending shivers down her spine. “One of those moments where your skirt flips up and we find out you’re wearing panties with cute bunnies printed across your bum?”

  “M-maybe.” Spluttering only made him laugh harder. She pressed on. “You’ve watched anime, haven’t you?”

  He dragged his fingers through his short-cropped hair. “Caught. Your scenario would’ve been a classic fan service moment.”

  A pause, then he continued, “When you’re overseas you watch anything in your downtime to burn up the hurry up and wait. One of my squadron mates had a hard drive full of those cartoons.”

  “Most of those are not kid’s cartoons.” She’d watched quite a bit through school. Still had a few favorites tucked away on her computer.

  “Which is why I opted for watching them over a bunch of ponies running around learning about lessons on friendship.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “Well, if we find ourselves in a wait situation, I have other guilty pleasures for us to check out.”

  His entire body stilled at her side.

  Tā mā de. “I... I meant stuff to watch.”

  Oh, and that sounded so much better.

  “Dramas. Chinese dramas.” She chucked it out there before he had to go for the awkward professionalism discussion. “Consider anime a gateway drug to all the great Asian dramas out there. One of my favorites has been made into a live action drama in Taiwan, Korea and Japan.”

  He relaxed against her. “Which is your favorite version?”

  “The one from Taiwan.” No doubts about it.

  “Because of the language?” The elevator dinged and he stretched a hand across the threshold to hold the elevator for her.

  “No.” She chewed on her lower lip, thinking on it as she stepped out. “I don’t mind reading subtitles, so those wouldn’t be a factor. The story line is closer to the original manga they were all based on and I just like the actors better. Plus, the soundtrack is cute.”

  He huffed. “Soundtrack?”

  “Yeah. The actors who play the main hero and heroine are both in music groups.” Smiling, she rose up on her toes and pressed a light kiss on his jaw, for the benefit of the security camera, of course. “Thank you.”

  Then she scampered out of the elevator as fast as she could.

  He’d had no trouble catching up with her. None at all. As he fell in behind her, he settled his hand on the small of her back and gently herded her down one hallway. Changing gears, she wondered whether he danced. A strong lead could guide his partner with minute pressure in the small of his partner’s back. It was similar to what Gabe was already doing.

  But he was still on their earlier topic. “Hmm. Smart marketing.”

  It was a miracle he’d been able to track her thought-hopping for as long as he had.

  “Guess so.” Maybe it was because he didn’t seem to mind. An-mei hadn’t either, but she switched topics even more often. And she was the better dancer despite the both of them having been sent to dance classes. An-mei hadn’t enjoyed dance as much as studies on the piano, though. It’d been Maylin who couldn’t get enough of the dance lessons.

  “Hey.”

  Maylin stopped short, the space on her back where his hand had been gone cold in its absence. Heat filled her cheeks as she turned to see him waiting by a door. He must’ve stopped and she’d kept right on walking.

  He raised a single eyebrow, slid the card key into the reader and opened the door, then held it for her to enter.

  “Why don’t you settle your things in the bedroom and take a look at the room service menu.” Gabe proceeded ahead of her, his gaze sweeping the room as he opened the closet and flipped the curtains. The realization hit her a moment later. He was checking the room for other people.

  Had she ever thought to do the same when she’d stayed in hotels in the past? No. Should she?

  “It’s been hours since you last ate, and a quick to-go sandwich at the airport on the way to pick up a rental car is not a real meal.” He edged around the doorjamb and took a good look in the bathroom. “You might want to take advantage of the shower too. Hot shower to wake you up before we head to the embassy.”

  “I want to ask them about An-mei as soon...”

  He pinned her with a glare. “You take the time to get food in your belly and your head on straight. Polish yourself so their impression of you is at your best. You’ll get a better response.”

  She swallowed angry words and absorbed what he’d said.

  An embassy was full of people who made appearances and perception an art form. If she rushed in there bedraggled and halfway to fainting, they’d dismiss her. He was right. And if she’d been thinking with the professionally savvy part of her brain, she’d have anticipated it too.

  “Thank you.” And she meant it.

  “Don’t thank me yet. We’re only getting started.” He set his small duffel on the couch and opened it up.

  She hovered in the doorway. “I must be very silly to you.”

  He stopped, straightened, then turned to face her. “No. You’re incredibly driven. And focused. Too focused. Your thought process hasn’t strayed from your sister for longer than sixty seconds since I met you.”

  “She’s important.” Anger and frustration welled up inside her, boiling up from her belly.

  He nodded once. “Yes, and you’re too close to see your way clearly. In this kind of situation you need to learn to step away and look at other things. Let your mind go off on side trails. That’s when we’ll find the things no one expects.”

  As she stepped into the bedroom, she chewed on his advice. Mulled it over as she unpacked her hastily balled-up dress suit and put it on hangers.

  “Did you have anything you needed ironed?” she called out into the living room, not sure where he was. The man made almost no sound moving around.

  “I’ve got a dress shirt.” After a moment, he was at the doorway with shirt in hand.

  She took it from him. “I’ll take it into the shower with me.”

  His eyebrows rose.

  “What?” She might be grumbling, but really, it’d been a long...day? Night? Not days yet, but things were going by in a blur. “The steam will help the worst of the wrinkles fall out and make ironing easier.”

  Silence.

  Already halfway into the bathroom with the hangers of clothes and her toiletries bag, she halted and leaned back to see him still standing in the doorway. “Something wrong?”

  “Not particularly. You’re going to leave them in there with the water running?”

  “No!” She huffed. A lock of hair fell in her face but she didn’t have the free hands to tuck it back where it belonged. Irritated, she continued, “It’d be a waste of water. I hang them up during my shower. If you’re taking a shower right after, I’ll leave them in here. Otherwise, I’ll take them out and start up the iron to take the rest of the wrinkles out.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “Waste not. Good practice.”

  She hesitated. “I guess you don’t need to steam or press your uniforms much overseas.”

  He leaned against the door frame, somehow closer than he’d been when he’d handed over his shirt but without having taken a step inside the bedroom. “Well, there’s a balance we tend to find between not looking like a piece of sh—crap and not being too much of a princess either.”

  “Okay.” A
nd she should spit out her real question instead of waffling and keeping them both lingering in doorways. “You’re going to be out there, then?”

  “I might go get ice down the hall.”

  “Oh.” Perfectly reasonable. Why was her stomach twisting in knots thinking about it?

  Gabe’s gaze grew sharper, the weight of it something she could feel on her skin. “I can wait until after we’re both finished showering.”

  Her anxiety eased a little. “I’d...appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’ll be out here. Relax. It’s almost lunchtime over at the embassy and they won’t open up to see people again for a couple of hours.” He stepped back out of the doorway, pulling the door closed between them.

  Chapter Eight

  What was wrong with her? She bustled through hanging up the clothes and turning on the shower. It wasn’t until she was rinsing shampoo from her hair that she realized she was listening for the sound of doors opening and closing. He’d said he wouldn’t go anywhere. And she believed him. But part of her was wary of someone sneaking up on her.

  Afraid.

  With Gabe out there, it wasn’t as bad as it might have been. And earlier at the Centurion Corporation property, she’d felt insulated and secure. Surrounded by people who made it their business to protect people, among other things. But she hadn’t stopped moving along the way to let things sink in.

  Her apartment had been violated.

  If it hadn’t been for Gabe seeing her home, someone would have heard—and maybe watched—everything she’d have done on returning. Taking a shower. Going to sleep. When would they have taken advantage and come to finish what they’d started with the attempted hit-and-run? And who were they? What did it have to do with An-mei? The questions had been hovering in the back of her mind, on continuous repeat, all day.

  Hot water scalded her skin as she tried to scrub away the worry.

  Overthinking was a danger. Thoughts born of fear wouldn’t be constructive. She needed to change her line of thought. Gabe was right.

  And what about him?

  Fitful naps on the red-eye might count as sleep deprivation. Why else would her thoughts scatter at the sight of him? It’d happened repeatedly throughout the day as he returned from the car rental counter or from some random building at one of their multiple stops. Plus her heart rate was definitively erratic—both earlier and right there in the shower. Maybe she’d had too much coffee. She’d stopped counting cups after they left the airport.

  Or she could be honest with herself and admit he was the most attractive man she’d ever encountered.

  Turning off the water, she pushed aside the shower curtain and reached for a towel. The mirror was steamed over, showing only the softest outline of her reflection.

  How did he see her?

  When they’d met, he’d thought she was propositioning him. Heat burned her cheeks. Not the strongest first impression she’d ever given. And it wasn’t as if she spent much time interacting with men outside of business anyway. Night clubs and bars weren’t her thing. Cooking classes were fun, but most men signing up for those were already part of couples. The few men her stepmother had initially tried to match her with had all been completely wrong for her. Dating had been sporadic and without any sort of...spark to rate pursuing a further connection.

  And here was Gabe. The man was a force of nature, so completely different as to make any other man she knew pale in comparison. Overthinking could be impossible with him. Mostly because he was capable of derailing any thought process simply by standing there, or sitting next to her, or brushing near her.

  And that sounded perfect.

  She patted herself dry, her hair still damp and falling loose down her back. Then she wrapped her towel around her torso and stepped out of the bathroom, careful to close the door behind her to keep the steam in with the hung clothes. Padding across the carpet, she opened the door to the bedroom before she reconsidered what she was about to do.

  The whole point was not to.

  “Did you need anything?” Gabe stood facing away from her by the sofa bed, having pulled it out and made it up.

  Yes, please help me stop thinking.

  But she couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t figure out how not to sound like an idiot. And couldn’t stop staring at him. The muscles across his back flexed as he moved, showing through his thin T-shirt. Broad shoulders, strong arms. She remembered having those arms close around her, carry her, support her. And she wanted more.

  What the heck was she supposed to say? If she hesitated much longer, she’d hide in the bedroom and not come out again until it was time to go. And the whole point was to not think at all. Change direction. Do something different. “Need might not be the right word.”

  Gabe turned toward her then, caught sight of her and froze.

  But he didn’t say anything.

  Taking a few steps toward him, she came to a stop, her gaze glued to his chest. She couldn’t quite manage looking him in the eye yet. But she took the leap anyway. “You don’t have to leave your stuff out here. I mean, you could...join me, if you want.”

  There. She’d said it.

  Please don’t let this turn into one of those things I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.

  * * *

  Gabe put comprehension on hold for half a second. All he could process was the sheen of golden skin wrapped in nothing but a hotel towel. His libido had barely been restrained while he’d been imagining water running down her skin as she’d been showering. Now his pants were painfully tight and she stood too close for her own safety. He balled his hands into fists. He couldn’t help looking, though, following the curve of her bared shoulder up to the place where it met her neck, exposed while her hair was slicked back and still wet. He wanted to lick her shower-fresh skin, kiss and bite her—right there. Her face was even more defined with her hair back, her lips a perfect kissable bow shape and her dark eyes hidden under delicate lashes as she kept staring stubbornly down or to the side or anywhere but at him.

  Join me, if you want.

  Those words were an invitation. And to hell with his earlier intention to keep things simple, he wanted to take her up on them. Hours of watching her doze fitfully on the plane had wound him up tight with a mix of concern and desire. On his recommendation, she’d come with him across the damned country. Every step of the way, she’d absorbed his instructions and asked intelligent questions.

  She was stepping up in every way and it only made him want her more.

  But he’d misunderstood her the first time they’d met, so he didn’t want to mess up again. Her looking down and away wasn’t what he wanted.

  He reached out, insanely glad when she didn’t flinch but instead seemed to lean into even the slightest touch of his forefinger under her chin. Exerting gentle pressure, he coaxed her to look up at him. When the full force of her gaze hit him, a cacophony of nervousness and determination and desire, he almost took her mouth right there. But he had to be sure he was reading her right. “Are you inviting me to have sex?”

  Her cheeks flushed with heat and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Yes.”

  Instant erection. Actually, he’d already been straining inside his pants but he was about to bust his fly open at this point. He’d better act fast. He could see doubt and second-guesses piling up in her eyes and she was starting to pull away from him. Nothing else he was going to say was going to come out right.

  He kissed her.

  She parted her lips for him. He tasted, explored, as her tongue danced with his. God, he’d wanted this. Craved the taste of her again ever since he’d kissed her the first time.

  Her needy whimper set him on fire. He gripped the nape of her neck, deepening their kisses, and kept his other hand at the curve of her back to hold her against him. She was warm, plian
t, molding her body against his. He wanted to rip the towel away and explore every inch of her, but damn it, she’d started this and he didn’t want to rush her into changing her mind. This had to be her lead.

  The level of control it was requiring might kill him.

  Letting them both up for air, he tried for words. Communication was good. Important. “I agreed to help you. Don’t do this if you think it’s some kind of payment.”

  He didn’t want her lowering herself to that.

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No. I just... I don’t want to think anymore. And every time you’re near, there’s you. Just you. And the questions go quiet and I want that. Please. I want to do this in the moment. With you.”

  Couldn’t argue with his own words. Damn if he couldn’t remember a single reason for why this would be a bad idea. “Do you still want to go to the bedroom?”

  To hell with simple. Especially after he’d been laid out with a bullet hole in his back, he was all about living.

  She pressed her face into his chest, her breath hot through his T-shirt. He needed to get rid of it. The shirt. He wanted her lips on his skin as he moved inside her. When she placed her hands on his torso and fisted the fabric of his shirt in her hands, he groaned. She tugged, stepping back toward the bedroom, and the message was enough for him.

  Bending his knees, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and straightened, hoisting her slight form up against him. When she squeaked, he laughed and a part of him came undone. This woman. Having her in his arms fit perfect and unlocked so much want. He couldn’t wait much longer.

  In a few ground-eating strides he reached the bedroom, slowing and stooping carefully to make sure her head cleared the doorway. She clutched his shoulders and he took the opportunity to nuzzle her. Her fingers dug in and he took it as encouragement. The towel was coming loose and he couldn’t wait to taste his prize.

  “Lights,” she gasped. “Turn out the lights.”

  He wanted to see her, but paused and freed a hand to swipe at the switch on the wall anyway. The daylight behind the curtains gave him enough to see by and if she was more comfortable with the room lights out, he’d make it happen.

 

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