Saved by a Dangerous Man (4 page)

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me to work for you so you can keep an eye on me.”

“But you do know better.” He retreated to a corner, where he proved that a scowl could make my blood run cold. As much as I wanted to pretend that he was jealous, that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want me mixed up in this.
 

If I hadn’t felt terrible about going before, I sure did now. The only person who knew all the details didn’t want me to do this, and the people who didn’t have all the facts would not have been in favor. But I was going.

I kissed him goodbye, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, then went out, closing my bedroom door behind me.

Henry waited near the front door, where he was eyeing my stack of credit card offers and unpaid bills. “Ready?” he asked.
 

For a moment, I almost wanted him to know, wanted
someone
to know. Because I was so unbelievably happy.

Yet I was miserable, too. Because I’d held heaven, incandescent and fleeting, cupped in my hands, and every passing moment dulled the memory.

I stared out the tiny window and contemplated a very unflattering theory. Maybe Henry knew more about Corbin than I did. Maybe he could tell me some of the things that Corbin wouldn’t.

Corbin didn’t need to worry; at the rate I was finding out his secrets, it could be a century before I even knew his birthday.

Somewhere a few rows back, a baby was giving her lungs a thorough workout. I made the mistake of turning to make sure she wasn’t being tortured, and from the middle of my row, Henry caught my eye.

“Need anything?” he mouthed.

I forced a smile and shook my head. I’d been lucky that the seats closest to him were already assigned. He was sitting half a plane away on the return trip, and I sensed that by then I would need that distance.
 

He tried to get my attention again, but I pretended not to notice. I turned back to the window and let my head rest on the scratched plastic as I stared at the black smudges on the plane’s wing. Something about flying in a dirty plane seemed chancy. Good thing passenger jets didn’t set off my claustrophobia.
 

A soft hand gently touched my elbow. “I think your friend would like to tell you something, dearie,” the grandmotherly type next to me said.

“Thank you. Again.” I said it warmly; it wasn’t her fault that Henry was driving me insane. I leaned over and raised an eyebrow.
 

He shook a bag of chocolate-covered peanuts at me.
 

“Would you like some peanuts?” I asked my seat mate.

“Gracious, no,” she said. “Too hard to chew.” She grinned widely and tapped her perfectly even teeth, then leaned in. “I met a new man, and I’m thinking about getting implants. My friend got them. They’re very natural, and she looks younger.”

My jaw dropped.

“But the implants are expensive and my insurance doesn’t cover them. I haven’t decided if I’ll dip into my savings. These dentures keep me from eating a lot of things.”

“Oh! Dental implants.” My face had gone hot. “Ok, then no peanuts.” I shook my head at Henry. He furrowed his brow, probably wondering why I had blushed red.

My brain was foggy; I needed a nap if I planned to keep up with Henry after we arrived. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Inside every woman lives a voice. A perceptive voice that will speak the truth if given the chance. Mine knew three things.

Corbin did care about me, and in a way that felt healthy, even to my inexperienced-at-relationships psyche.

He was fucked up. He had to be, or he wouldn’t be so good at his job. Because there was no such thing as a well-adjusted assassin.

And I knew, deep down, in the coldest, most rational parts of my soul, that Corbin was capable of just about anything.
 

Sometimes it was a look. Or the way he said something. But… I
knew.
It didn’t dampen my desire—no, my uncontrollable need—one iota. At least, not when we were in the same room.
 

Being
capable
of something wasn’t the same as doing it, and it wasn’t fair to punish him for his honesty.

Maybe his confession about that particular murder was a good sign. He hadn’t killed anyone innocent; he’d just said that he would have if it had been needed. Perhaps this was proof that subconsciously, he wasn’t comfortable with his job after all. An assassin, yes, but one who had qualms about his deeds. Maybe he’d been a killer for so long that he believed he didn’t have limits.

But he’d found me helpless in the road. He could have left me to die. Yet he didn’t. He saved my life. He washed my clothes and kept me warm. He fed me. Entertained me. He took care of me.
 

Corbin was one of the good guys. For heavens sake, he’d brought me candy for my trip. So why did he scare me so much?

The captain made an announcement that the weather was 65 degrees and breezy, and the plane would be landing soon. I raised my seat to upright and reached for Corbin’s paperback. The problem was that when I wasn’t deeply distracted, my thoughts turned to Corbin. The six weeks that he’d been gone, I’d obsessed about the sex.

Since he’d returned, I obsessed about everything else.

I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Was this my great love story, the man I’d be thinking about every day for the rest of my life? Or was it my folly, the stupid thing that would burn my face with shame whenever I remembered it?

As one of my conditions for accompanying Henry, I’d insisted on paying my own way and having a separate hotel room. Henry hadn’t batted an eye, but he’d said we’d have adjoining rooms. The location had sounded convenient, so I had agreed.

Upon check-in, though, I learned that he’d upgraded us to a two-bedroom suite, and the cost for downgrading would be double what I’d already paid.

“The bedrooms have locks,” Henry said. “It’s just like having two rooms except much nicer.”

“Can I look at it before deciding?” I asked the clerk, who was pretending not to listen to us quarrel.
 

Henry and I took the elevator in silence. The happy glow from Corbin’s unexpected visit was long gone. I couldn’t tell if Henry was being sly, or if it was a good intentions, road to hell thing.

But the bedroom door really did lock, and our rooms were on opposite ends of a wide, blandly beige common area. I had a private toilet, but we’d have to share a shower unless I wanted to bathe in the sink.

“This is fine,” I said; however, a warm rage simmered low in me. I needed to let it go.
 

“I’ll call the front desk and let them know.”
 

I shut myself inside my room and dropped my carry-on bag onto the bed. I’d stuffed Corbin’s plastic bag inside. I dug around, found a chewy granola bar and ate it even though I wasn’t hungry.

Henry knocked on the door. I ignored him. It was childish, but I was pissed.

He kept knocking. “Audrey?” Then he tried the handle.
 

Oh, I’d learned my lesson about leaving doors unlocked around Henry Heigh. “What do you want?”

“Unlock the door.”

I unlocked it but didn’t open it.

Henry pushed it open, but wisely stayed on the far side of the threshold.

“I really didn’t think it would be a problem,” he said, his face creased with anguish. I was struck again by how much younger he looked than his forty-six years. Despite appearances, he was much closer in age to my parents than to me.

“It’s fine,” I said, my arms crossed. “Just wish you’d told me before we got here.”
 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Figured it would be a nice surprise. The view is better, the rooms are bigger, but… I didn’t think it through.”
 

I studied him, unsure if I was making a big deal out of nothing. Regardless, I was only there to get information out of Henry. I couldn’t very well prance around on my moral high horse if he had an agenda, too.
 

“It’s fine.” It even sounded genuine. “It’ll give us more time together.”

Henry smile was slow, wary. “Be ready to leave in twenty minutes,” he said. He leaned in, locked the door and pulled it closed.

After tossing the granola wrapper, I dug out my two cell phones. One was my crappy prepaid. The other was a top-of-the-line smartphone that technically belonged to Corbin.

Sadly, he hadn’t written.

I dug a wrinkled black dress out of my bag. It smelled stale, like the box that housed my out-of-season clothes.

The iron made short work of the wrinkles, and a spritz of perfume chased away the odor. I dressed, enjoying the feel of the sensual fabric sliding over my skin. Even though the hem of the dress reached my calves, the silhouette was flattering and sexy. The stretchy top was form-fitting, with a plunging halter, and unlike when I wore it in the summer, I didn’t have stark tan lines on my arms and neck.
 

Then I worked my feet into my strappy sandals. Hopefully, I wouldn’t get too cut up; usually I reintroduced them to my feet gradually, wearing them around the apartment for a few hours over the course of a week.
 

A touch of gloss on my lips, a ten-minute argument with my curls, a swipe of blush on my cheeks… and I looked halfway decent.

I considered my reflection and wished Corbin were with me. I wasn’t in his league, though he always made me feel irresistible. For once, maybe I merited his attention.

Our father insisted that Rob and I exercise regularly, claiming that physical fitness was a prerequisite for a successful fugitive recovery agent. Dad was well over two hundred pounds, though, and it most certainly wasn’t muscle.
 

Rob's theory was that Dad wanted to keep the health insurance premiums low. I thought it was another symptom of Dad’s need to control everything.

I hadn’t been a motivated exerciser until my first weekend with Corbin. Now I was in the best shape of my life, able to run farther, push harder, last longer. Put a dress on me and apparently I still looked like a woman, soft in all the right places.

Henry was sitting on one of the beige couches, flipping through a hardback tourist guide. He swept an appreciative gaze over me when I walked into the room. “I’m already glad you came,” he said, his voice full of innuendo.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. My bounty has a meeting just after midnight. I expect all attendees to be heavily armed, so I might not be able to grab him then. Not even sure I’ll try, to be honest.”

We had reached the front of the hotel, where the rental car waited. Henry insisted on opening my door, and while it pained me, I allowed him to. I told myself that his gesture wasn’t possessive. But oh, I knew better.

“So then what? If you’re avoiding a shootout?” I asked, still trying to keep my indignation in check.

“Tail him, pick him up at the first opportunity. It won’t take long. It never does.” He cleared his throat. “Enough about work. I want to get to know you better, not think about criminals. Let’s just have a nice evening.”

We drove to a beachside restaurant and were seated on the deck, facing the water. Clouds drifted overhead, hiding and revealing a full moon. Its glow set the ocean sparkling like it had been dusted in diamonds. A warmish breeze swept in.

“I see why people retire here,” I said.

Henry smiled. “You wouldn’t miss winter?”

“I think I’d find a way to manage,” I said, laughing. I allowed myself a glass of red wine. Henry took a beer.
 

Even though I knew that Corbin couldn’t possibly be there, I found myself scouring the restaurant for him. The last time I’d gone to dinner with Henry, Corbin had found me. After his appearance in my bedroom, I expected he might show up anywhere, anytime.
 

But of course he wasn’t there. Lots of elegant diners, though, including a group of three tall women blessed with the greyhound elegance of supermodels.

“You think they’re famous?” I asked Henry.

“Who?” A smile played on his face. “Is there anyone here but you?”

Oh, Henry knew how to turn on the charm, all right, but I was starting to see how superficial it was.
Time to get to work.
I licked my lips. “Tell me about this fugitive. I wanna know how you do it. How’d you find him? And don’t be all secretive. You’ll have him in a few hours.”

“Yes, I will,” Henry said. He seemed to puff up a size larger. “Contacts, Audrey. Somebody always knows something.”

Like I didn’t already know that. “For example?” I was practically purring.
 

Henry spun a long story that wasn’t the least bit useful. He talked about his contacts in such infuriatingly vague terms.

“But how’d you get them? I mean, FBI contacts… I’d love to have some ins there, you know?”

“You might sooner than you realize,” he said with a wink.

I sat up. “Really? Please, introduce me.”

“You’re ambitious, but you lack patience.”

Couldn’t dispute that. “I’m ready to meet whoever, whenever.”

He laughed. “When we get back.” He laughed again, waved his hand as if dispelling smoke. “Wait and see.”

I tried not to sag back into my chair. Henry was so secretive lately. But then again, so was I. “With cases this big, how useful is it to bribe family?” Not that I was digging for info on Corbin’s life.

“Works great if you’re fast. Those cases, you know, if they’re gonna talk, you’d better be first or have deeper pockets.”

“And in this case?”

“Bachelor.”

Huh. Not widowed.
“Girlfriend?”

“Forget about this loser.” Henry placed his hand over mine, and I jumped, started to pull away, then made myself stay put. “Can I ask you a personal question, Audrey?”

“Um… sure.”

He leaned in. “I get the impression you’re very inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced? Well… I guess I’m not the relationship type.” I hadn’t realized it was so obvious.
 

“Sexually. Are you a virgin?”

I felt my face going red. If everything were exactly the same but if I were male, Henry would never have assumed that. If I were, in essence, Rob.