"You're all set. You can go sulk in your room now."
A twinge of guilt pierced my heart. He was trying to help. "Look, I'm sorry. I just don't like being man-handled. And those assholes just now, I—" My nose stung, and my eyes started to water. What the fuck? I was not going to cry in front of this man who was basically a stranger.
Can a man be a stranger if you've gotten off to the thought of him?
Not at all relevant.
"Hey. Hey, now, it's okay."
He moved close and wrapped his arms around me, and God help me, I did feel safe. Which was my first mistake. It was so warm in his space. And wrapped there, I would start to think I was safe. I would start to think that nothing could touch me. The problem was I needed to know the truth about him before I could let myself surrender to feelings like that.
But once you knew the truth, there was no going back. There was no return to sender. Men like East Hale were not to be trusted. Handsome, rich, ambitious, and then add in a dose of his general shadiness. Absolutely not. I’d been digging for months into their little boys' club at the London Lords. The clubs they belonged to. There were whisperings of a secret society, but they were just whisperings. That big old estate out in the village of Virginia Water where I had arrested Bram Van Linsted was listed as a property of Ben Covington.
And I couldn’t even fathom why the Van Linsteds seemed to have lived there or were arrested there for that matter. I’d checked into the deed of sale on the property, and it looked like it was a gift. I tried to dig up a little more, but no one would talk about it or the secret society that seemed to be connected with it, which really set my alarm bells off. Usually, there was someone willing to give up some information, but no one would talk, which only strengthened my suspicion that something was really going on there.
Worse yet, the London Lords had handed me one of the biggest cases of my career tied up in a neat little bow. Too neat. And I hadn't even been researching that case. So why hand me the Van Linsteds, the sex ring, the human trafficking, or leads on missing girls unless there was something bigger, something worse and far more insidious that they were hiding?
Or, like Denning says, you're just paranoid. And you are turning away a perfectly good dick.
Oh, Jesus Christ, speaking of dick, I could feel his body flush against mine, and between my thighs was the press of... wow. He wasn't even hard, but I felt the length of him in his trousers, and he was gifted.
Yeah, imagine if he was hard.
Stop.
I had to stop. This was ridiculous.
I wiggled and ducked my head. "Thank you. I'm not used to someone taking care of me."
He nodded slowly as his moss green eyes searched mine. "Of course." He stepped back.
The loss of his heat and his scent made me want to cry out and reach for him. Instead, I balled my hands into fists so I wouldn’t make that mistake.
"Listen,” he began, his tone brusque, all business. “Why don't you grab a shower, go to bed, and relax. Are you sure you don't want to call Interpol? It seems like something you should do. You're an agent. You were attacked in public."
I shook my head. "No. Not until we have evidence, because that's just me running home to my dad to cry."
He coughed at that. "Jesus, I get it. You're tough."
I lifted my brow. "Oh right, the billionaire lord, wants to laugh at me having to be tough?"
He furrowed his brow. "That's not what I meant."
"Well, it sure sounded like it. You have the privilege of never having people assume that you're weak because you're a woman, and that you can't lead because you're a woman, that you can't fight because you're a woman. And God help you if you're a woman of color. My best friend, Amelia, every day she walks in, she has to be perfect. No mistakes, because she won't get a second chance. So please, don't be flippant. I won't report this unless I have to or unless I know what the hell is going on. You don’t turn up empty handed. That's a pussy move. Actually, no. Scratch that. That's a balls move. Pussies can handle a pounding. Balls, the slightest twitch, and they shrivel up and cry."
He just stared back at me, looking a little stunned at my outburst.
I hopped down off the counter. "I'm fine, thank you for your assistance. It's appreciated." I made sure I softened my voice then lifted my chin so he could see my eyes. “And about that kiss in the park. It was a momentary lapse of judgment. It won’t happen again.”
He nodded slowly as he licked his bottom lip. "That's too bad. And I want you to know, what you just said, I hear you. I was a dick just now. Never let it be said that I can't apologize and make an about face. You're right, it's not my perspective, and I am a rich ass. I do work hard for my company, but you’re right. You probably have to work a hell of a lot harder. So, I fucked up, and I'm sorry. Just give a holler if you need anything." And then he turned around and walked out.
I closed the door with a soft click and leaned my forehead against it. Jesus Christ, why did he have to be so everything I wanted? I’d just checked him, and he took the check. He took it on the chin like a real man. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
East Hale was the last kind of headache I needed.
No. Unfortunately, he's exactly the kind of headache
