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“You know, for a tough ass girl, you sure show every emotion on this beautiful face of yours. I thought you were supposed to be all mysterious?” He said, smiling.

Dinah tried to jerk her face away, but he wouldn’t let her. “I’m only mysterious when my face is hidden.”

He let his eyes look her over slowly, pausing on her lips. Her stomach rolled just has her heart picked up speed. It was crazy how this boy affected her body. “I’m glad your face isn’t hidden from me. Now, to correct whatever thoughts I just saw running through your head, it’s not that I don’t want you to call me McKay because you’re not a friend or anything. I’d just prefer you call me something most people don’t. Make it’s a little more…special.”

He looked slightly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing as he finished. That was why? Dinah felt herself start to smile like an idiot, even though she really want to keep it cool. Too late. “Okay,” she said softly. She really needed to stop sounding like such a girl. It was pretty hard to do that with Pete though.

“I need to run. You’re going to be okay, right?”

She nodded.

“When will I get to see you again?”

“I’m not sure,” she said.

He looked over her head where the soldiers disappeared, thoughtfully. “Is that going to be a problem for you?” he asked.

“No. They won’t say anything. I think I scare them too much,” she replied. Pete could not know that Roman and others knew of what she was doing, otherwise he’d realize it was because they planted her here. Suddenly she didn’t feel so good.

“Okay, well I’ll see you around then.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead before dropping his hands and stepping away. Another quick grin and he was running after his friends, leaving her standing there, frozen speechless and alone. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Did she want him to kiss her? Yeah, that was a big, fat yes. Even she couldn’t deny that. Dinah started walking back toward the area where she parked her bike, all the while thinking she’d gotten way in over her head with all this. She just hoped she would make it out with all of herself intact, including her heart.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Why didn’t he kiss her? Pete wanted to seriously smack himself in the face. It would only complicate an already complicated situation, his smarter self answered. Still, he was going to be regretting that decision for days.

“I’m going to leave you here,” Tommy Boy said. “I’m off to the Red Lounge again.” He winked.

“How does someone like you have enough money to go to a place like that?” Garrett asked, baffled.

Tommy Boy smiled. “I got me a job now.”

“
You
have a job?” Seamus gasped.

Garrett snickered. “You mean, aside from playing messenger boy?”

“Do we even want to know what it is?” Pete said.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Tommy Boy answered. “Trust me, boys, some things are better left in the dark. I’ll catch you all later.”

They waved goodbye as they headed toward St. Anne’s. Trent fell into step with Pete as the other two walked up ahead.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with Dinah?” Trent asked in a lowered voice.

Pete looked over in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well for starters, what the hell was that back there? I’ve never seen New World army soldiers back down for anyone. Why would they do it for some tiny girl?”

“And what else?” Pete said, avoiding his brother’s questions.

Trent’s mouth thinned out like it always did when he wasn’t happy. “And what’s going on between the two of you? All of a sudden there’s some strange girl hanging around, and you’re acting like some schoolboy with a crush. What’s up with that?”

“I am not,” he defended.

Trent gave him a bland look. “Bro, I’ve seen you with girls my entire life. Not one has ever really interested you. The only girl you’ve spent more than a week with is Bridge, and that’s only because you think of her as a sister. From the way you look at Dinah, I’d say you’re not having brotherly thoughts about her. And if you are, you have way more issues than I thought.”

Pete laughed, shaking his head. “I definitely have more issues than you think, let’s just leave it at that.”

“You’re not going to tell me what’s really going on? I’m not stupid, Pete. I can tell there’s more to all of this than what either of you are telling us.”

Sometimes he really hated how observant his older brother was. He trusted Trent explicitly, but there was no way Pete could tell him who Dinah really was. He would freak out and rightly so. The whole situation with them was dangerous. Pete wasn’t even sure why she was hanging out with them, but that didn’t mean he would stop it. God, you’re such a masochist, he thought.

“I need you to trust me,” Pete told him. “I’ll explain it all, just not now.” Was that a lie? Maybe, maybe not. If he could get Dinah to leave Ludwig and join them then he could be honest about her. But until then, there was no way he was saying anything. Was that what he wanted? For her to join them instead? Because of her value, or because he just wanted her with him?

“Fine,” Trent said, interrupting his thoughts. “But I’m holding you to that. Eventually you need to come clean, because I’m not the only one who’s going to pick up on this.”

Pete nodded, keeping his features calm. They entered the church and headed to the confessionals. Pete walked through the hidden door and down the stairs to the rebel’s main hideout. The General and several of the council members were already there, sitting around the large, round table set up in the middle of the room. Pete hated being down here. It was cold and damp all the time, the stone walls offering no heat of any kind. And it smelled musty. The sconces on the walls barely lit the wide, open room, and the ceiling was too low for him to stand upright comfortably. He always felt the need to hunch a little.

He also hated the usual disregarding looks from the council members. A bunch of old men who looked down on them, and yet who did they think did all their dirty work out on the streets? Pete was so sick of this shit. He cast them all a hard smile before plopping down in a seat.

“Good of you to join us,” the General said dryly.

“It’s always a pleasure chattin’ with you lot,” Pete replied sarcastically. “What can we do ya for?”

“We’ve received some interesting intel,” he informed them, cutting to the chase.

“Of what variety?” Pete asked.

“Of the interesting kind.”

“So you’ve said.”

“In three weeks’ time, Ludwig Tenebris will be sitting down with his main artillery suppliers,” one of the councilmen provided.

Pete sat back in his chair, his fingers drumming lazily on the table. This
was
interesting news. “Where?”

“Here,” Douglas answered, “in New Berlin.”

He sat forward again. “Are you sure? How are they getting here?”

“Flying in. This is our chance to finally hit the New World government where it hurts,” the same councilman said.

“They’re staying at the headquarters up town?”

The General nodded.

“What do you have planned?”

Douglas smiled the kind of smile that gave Pete chills. “We bomb them. All of them.”

“You’ve been requested,” Donna said, placing a hand on Bridgette’s shoulder. Bridgette smiled at her boss through the mirror and gave her a tiny nod. Donna walked away, her face pinched with worry. Bridgette wasn’t sure why, but she’d seen that look on her employer’s face more often as of late.

Finishing up with her hair, she stood and headed toward the door that led to the back stairwell. Sebastian was watching her from across the room, but she ignored him. Ever since her glorious reunion with her father, Bridgette had been pissed at Sebastian. He knew how she felt about her father and his stupid rebellion. It wasn’t like she ever hid her distaste for the whole thing. McKay was even aware of it. The fact that the two of them had thought it was a good idea to bring her to that cold, empty church just to meet a man of the same variety boggled her mind. Did anyone know her at all?

She stomped up the stairs, the familiar jabs of anger in every step. She was so sick of everyone thinking they were doing the right thing when really it only ever made things worse. The whole stupid rebellion was only going to get them killed faster. Why couldn’t they just deal with life as it was like the rest of them? Why did they have to feel the need to fight against something that would destroy them? Bridgette swore to herself that she was never, ever going to get involved in anything the rebels were doing. She was going to live her life the way she wanted, and deal with whatever crap was thrown her way. The rebels and their misguided ideals could suck it.

Room four was the only room occupied, the red light above the door turned on. Any time one of the girls were requested for a private dance, it was up on the second level. No one did it out in the main room. Bridgette fixed her red and black corset before stepping into the dimly lit room.

She froze.

“Shut the door,” he commanded. It took her a moment to do as she was told. Her hands shook as she pressed it shut, turning around slowly to meet the man who had consumed her dreams for the past week. Roman Adamson sat in a chair, casually leaning back as he observed her. They looked at each other intently before he finally spoke, breaking the silence. “Are you going to dance for me, Bridgette?”

The sound of her name on his tongue did funny things to her head. She nodded, tripping in her haste to get up on the mini stage. Keep it cool, Bridge, she scolded herself. She took a deep breath as she set up the music. How was she going to sing with him watching her? And only her? This was like her own worse nightmare come to life. Alone in a room with Roman Adamson.

Bridgette waited for the music to start and began singing, her movements slightly less fluid than normal. Oh man, she was doing a horrible job. Her face felt like it was on fire from the embarrassment. And it didn’t help that he just sat there, watching her with those big, dark blue eyes, his face completely expressionless. What if he went and complained to Donna about how horrible she was? Was it possible to die from humiliation? Because it might actually happen to her.

She continued to perform the song mechanically, looking anywhere but at him.

“Stop.” His voice was deep and smooth, and the sound of it had her full attention the second he said anything.

She froze mid-step, her voice faltering. He sat forward, his hands hanging loosely between his bent legs. He had huge legs, she noted. Everything about him was huge. Her face flamed even more at the wonder of just how much of him was big. She unconsciously fanned herself with her hand. This was going worse than she had ever imagined.

“Come closer,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. She took a step forward and stopped. He shook his head. “Closer.” He pointed to the spot right before him. Bridgette swallowed nervously, forcing herself to move. She stepped off the stage, stopping where his finger was still indicating. He stood up slowly, his large frame towering over hers. She felt extremely small and feminine next to him. Bridgette kept her eyes down, looking at the middle of his chest.

His hands lifted, landing on her hips. He gripped her there, and every thought in her head fled with his touch. Only a thin layer of lace and satin sat between his skin and hers. The thought of that had her blood boiling.

“Bridgette, look at me.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. He watched her face as he slowly glided his hands up her sides, his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts, until he removed them to grip her upper arms.

“Look at me,” he urged. Bridgette’s eyes popped open. When had she closed them? She looked back up, mortified at her reaction to his touch. “I’ve seen you perform before, and you are incredibly amazing to watch. What is it about performing in front of just me that has you so nervous?”

She licked her dry lips. “Who says I’m nervous?” she challenged. He might make her feel like a puddle of goo, but she sure as heck wasn’t going to show it. The Hatcher women were always stubborn and strong-willed. He smiled, which only made her want to melt more.

“You’re stumbling around that stage like this is the first time you’ve done it. Which, we both know isn’t true. Do I make you nervous, Bridgette?”

Did he need to keep saying her name? Seriously, it was making thinking very difficult. Bridgette shook her head. “Just having an off night, I suppose,” she offered. He chuckled, his laugh as rich as his voice, but huskier. A ringing sound interrupted them. Roman dropped his hands and reached into one of the pockets on his pants. Bridgette stepped back, sucking in air while he answered his phone.

“Yeah?” His brows lowered as he listened, his face serious. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten.” He snapped the phone closed and gave her an apologetic smile. “Looks like our time is cut short. It was nice seeing you again, Bridgette.” He walked out of the room, her watching after him. She breathed a sigh of relief. Roman Adamson might look and sound like the man of her dreams, but she knew he was more trouble than she was prepared to deal with. She wasn’t sure what it meant that he came back here to see her, but she was equal parts terrified and excited about it.