His hands on her steadied her nerves, and her heart stopped when she saw the deep worry etched on his handsome face. She’d never seen him so frantic. The former soldier was always so calm and collected; it was surprising to see him so undone.
Before she could process it, he kissed her hard and fast, making her head spin, but this time it wasn’t due to the lack of air. Her world spun again when Malco lifted her into his arms and held her close. She should have acted strong and pushed forward like she always did, started planning the next stage of the investigation, but instead, she buried her face in his neck, his scent filling her world, and let him carry her away.
Chapter Fifteen
He swore his heart almost stopped when he heard Kasten confront Frida at the back of the station. Hearing the sounds she made as the man threatened her had him seeing red. He hadn’t moved so fast in all his life as he rounded that corner to find her gasping for breath and holding her neck.
The angry marks of Kasten’s hands on her throat made him want to tear the fucker apart with his bare hands. Her shaken look and the way she clung to him had sealed the deal. Nobody came after someone he cared about, and he cared about Frida probably more than he should in such a short time.
He parked his car in the garage of his home, wanting to give her space to rest and decompress. Neither of them had gotten much sleep in the last few days, and running on fumes and flaking out wouldn’t help anyone.
He fingered the ends of her silky hair as he looked at her across the center console. “Food and a movie sound good?”
Her exhausted smiled relaxed the inner beast that still wanted blood. “Sounds perfect. I think I’m about to hit a brick wall.”
“Let’s get to it then.” He opened the inner door and turned off his alarms. “Why don’t you grab a shower while I start dinner. Chicken Jambalaya okay?”
“Hmm, sounds lovely.” Malco chuckled at her delight.
He watched as she walked away toward the room she was using and listened as the shower went on. He needed to update the team on what went down with Kasten.
He got everything for the Jambalaya out and began preparing the meat while he dialed Alliance and put it on speaker.
“Hey, Malco.” Cleo’s voice greeted him.
“Hey, sweetheart, is Mason, Shane, or Knight around?”
“Let me just see who’s in their office. I think Shane might be.”
Malco seared the meat, the scent of spices filling the air as he moved it around the pan.
“Malco, where are you?” Shane sounded pissed.
“I’m at home. Did you hear what happened with Frida and Kasten?” He knew sometimes Shane monitored the comms when he was in the office. The man was like a mother hen at times.
“Yeah, I did, and I want to rip his fucking balls off. Bent cops are bad enough but now he’s assaulting women.”
“Yeah, well, she was shaken up, and I figured we both need some sleep, so we came home. We’ll be back in at oh eight hundred tomorrow unless anything urgent comes up before.”
“No problem, take the night. Nothing is happening that needs immediate attention, and we need people sharp on this. There are too many moving parts for my liking.”
“Roger that. Call me if anything happens, though.”
“Always.” Shane hung up, and Malco finished adding the onions, stock, and rice and left it to simmer. That could cook while he took a shower and changed. He heard the water turn off in the other room and tried to banish the image of Frida wet and naked only feet from him from his mind.
He needed a shower and to jerk off before his dick fell off and his balls died. Being around this woman was a constant education in control. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, and her reaction to his prosthetic had been honest with no pity or looks of repulsion.
It was part of him, and that was exactly how she had looked at him, not like he was broken and deserved her sympathy. Drying off after his shower, he slipped on a gray t-shirt and sweats, ran his hand through his wet hair, and walked back to the kitchen. To his delight, Frida was at the stove, stirring the pot, a glass of wine in her hand.
She turned, looking guilty as the glass stopped at her lips. “I hope you don’t mind. I helped myself from the fridge.” Malco smiled as he approached and took the glass from her hand, lifting it to his lips for a sip.
“Perfect.” He moved in closer and palmed her belly. “For the record, seeing you make yourself at home in my kitchen gives me more pleasure than it probably should.” Frida tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. “You have a kitchen fetish I should know about?”
Malco laughed. “No, I have a full-on Frida fetish.”
“Phew, because I’m starving, and I’d hate to have to bin that food because you’ve been doing the nasty on the counter.”
“You have my word, no nasty on the counter—yet.” Then they were both laughing as her hands moved to his chest, and she swatted him.
“Seriously, though, Malco, what are we doing here? This feels like more than sex or a fling, or am I reading this wrong.” Malco focused on the marks on her neck and felt his rage bubble again.
“Hearing him attack you like that today nearly killed me. Every horrible scenario ran through my brain as I tried to find you, and it made me see that whatever this is, it’s not easy or light. It’s deep and scary, and I can’t seem to stop it, and I’m not sure I want to.”
“I’m not either, but we have so much bad
