Dared by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  I could feel his pulse in my lips, wrapped around his thick base.

  “Back on the bed. I’m gonna put some come in you,” he said.

  Corbin came twice more. He probably would have gone for a fourth time, but the alarm on his phone sounded.

  “Saved by the bell,” he whispered. He held me close, not caring that I was drenched with sweat. But then, so was he. The room smelled of sex.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Strangely optimistic,” I said. And I really did. My entire body was relaxed. “If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”

  “The only time I’d ever lie to you would be to save your life,” he said.

  “That… isn’t reassuring.”

  He frowned, looking genuinely confused. “It should be.”

  A light shiver ran down my back. “And you wonder why I don’t like the idea of you going back to work for them.”

  “I don’t wonder,” he said. “Believe me, I get it. What’s on your mind?”

  I summoned my courage. “Deep down, do you think she’s alive?”

  He blinked, clearly not expecting me to ask that. I wondered if it was because he’d somehow forgotten about that during our two hours of fucking, or if he was surprised by how direct I’d been.

  “Deep down? I don’t know.” He started to roll away, then caught himself, no doubt realizing that if he pulled away now, it would undo all his careful reassurances.

  “What does your gut say?”

  “It says that I hope she’s alive.” He pulled me closer as he said it. “I have to consider the source. The man wants something, so he has plenty of incentive to lie.”

  “What does he want?”

  He shook his head.

  “Top secret?” I guessed.

  “And nothing to do with us. Or with her. Promise.” He propped himself on one elbow and stared down at me. “I need to get moving. You think you can throw on some clothes?”

  I took a moment to rinse off, then I dressed. When I came out of the bathroom, Corbin took my place. He was out and ready to go in less than three minutes, and I wondered if fast showering counted as one of the skills that Jennifer would need to teach me.

  “What’s up with Jennifer?” I asked. “Is she single?”

  He shot me a sideways glance as he opened the hotel room door. “No idea. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.”

  “By the way, you are the best thing that ever happened to that dress,” he said, his eyes taking me in with admiration. “You should have beautiful things.”

  And I supposed that meant he’d have to buy them. Yeah, it felt like we were back to normal. “You’re spoiling me.”

  “That’s the plan, anyway.”

  We stepped onto the elevator. “Jennifer… She pushed hard to recruit me. When I said I’d join, she backed off. Is that weird?”

  “No,” he said. But he’d been a hair too fast.

  “Corbin—”

  He held up a hand. “Not now. One thing at a time. We’ve got Paris to think about.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You’re the reason she canceled last night, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, which told me everything.

  “Seriously?”

  “If you’re expecting an apology, you’re going to be disappointed,” he said. “I don’t want you in that world.”

  “Not cool.”

  “You’ll have to trust me in this, too.”

  There were a million things I could have said, none of them pleasant, and the worst of them likely true. But he was right.

  One thing at a time. For now.

  He put me in a cab and handed me the large bag, now filled with my work clothes. “You’ll see me in three days,” he said, sensing my nervousness. “It won’t be fun for either of us, but having you there… I appreciate it.” He kissed me gently. No one observing would have ever guessed what he’d just done to me in a hotel room.

  I twisted to watch him through the back window. Driving away from him always sucked.

  It wasn’t until I got back to the office—Erin whistled when I walked through the door in the dress—and saw the earlier pile of messages from Frances that I remembered Henry. In the excitement of seeing Corbin, I’d completely forgotten.

  Too late now. He was on a plane for the next however many hours. We’d have to discuss it on Monday.

  But he’d have other, more important, things to deal with then.

  Thinking to text him anyway, I took out my phone and saw I had a message. There’s something for you in your new purse.

  That didn’t make sense. I’d emptied the purse after lunch, taking out my phone, which was the only thing in it.

  But I looked, and inside the purse was a note and a credit card, printed with my name.

  I don’t know how much time we’ll have for shopping in Paris, so make sure to get yourself some nice things before you come. The card limit is $25,000. If you need more, send me a text and I’ll take care of it.

  All my love,

  Corbin

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I said. I couldn’t accept this card.

  But then I realized that he probably meant that he wanted to go to dinner. Formal clothes would be necessary.

  In that case, I’d just bring the things he’d already bought me.

  He’d been so lavish, it was starting to feel like he was overcompensating. Like if he could just give me enough stuff, it would somehow be proof that he cared, that our relationship would survive whatever was coming.

  Or like he was trying to distract himself.

  Trust him, a little voice said.

  But really, it wasn’t like I had a choice.

  Sunday night, Rob drove me to the airport. In an interesting twist, he’d be picking up Dad and Martha after dropping me off.

  “Do you have your passport?” he asked as he pulled my large suitcase out of the trunk.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

  “See you in a few days,” he said. “We’ll eat baguettes under the Eiffel Tower.” His grin was wild, excited, and I knew I’d made the right choice by inviting him. He’d keep me sane, and we might even have fun.

  I was fine as I checked in and went through security, but as I waited at the gate, tense nervousness churned through me. The last time I’d been in an airport was when I’d gone to Florida with Henry, and look how that had turned out.

  My phone buzzed. It was Corbin. She’s alive.

  I stared at the message in disbelief, and I wondered if it would be the last time I’d hear from him.

  Corbin texted again. We’ll get through this.

  He’d been asking me to trust him since the weekend we met. It had been a point of contention more times than I could count.

  My fingers shook so badly that I had a hard time texting back: That’s excellent news. And I know we’ll be fine.

  Calm settled over me. At least now I knew my role. I would go, be a good friend, support him. I wouldn’t get in the way.

  I slipped the ring off my finger.

  ~ ~ ~

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