She flinches, then bites her lower lip. “I’m sorry about that. I was a coward. I guess I got overwhelmed by what happened, how reckless it was. I’m a doctor, so I should be smarter, you know? And I barely know you. I mean, we’d just met a few hours earlier.”
“So you regretted it,” I say, not sure I like the twinge of disappointment, both at her apparent misgivings and the fact that she still doesn’t remember our first real meeting.
“Yes and no,” she says with a faint grimace, then closes her eyes and sighs. “No, that isn’t fair. I don’t regret what we did. It was foolish not to use protection, yes. But the only real regret I have is that I chickened out and didn’t face you afterward. I’m sorry. But wow . . . here you are, right? Is that fate or what?” She waves a hand down my body and grins.
“Not sure I believe in fate, but here you are, so maybe I need to rethink that whole concept.” Her smile is so infectious I grin back. At that moment, the band kicks into a slow song and I hold out my hand. “Dance with me.”
Her smile brightens so much I can almost feel the warmth of it, as if the sun has just reappeared from behind a cloud. This woman could help me forget my troubles so easily. Even if it’s just for a few days, it would be worth it.
She lets me lead her to the dance floor, then slips into my arms like she belongs there. We sway to the music and I hold her close, my body thrumming with awareness of the solid feel of her against me. She’s slender, but not what I’d call delicate, her strength evident in the sureness of her steps and the grip she has on me.
Her dress is backless, and she quivers the slightest amount when I rest my palm against her bare skin. In her heels, we’re face-to-face, her cheek a mere breath away from mine, and her green-apple scent fills my nose.
Christ, I need to keep myself under control. I don’t want her to regret a single second of being with me tonight, no matter where it leads, but I’m a hair’s breadth from dragging her up to my room and begging her to stay for the entire weekend.
I take a deep breath and force myself to pull back enough to look at her. Her blue eyes are bright, her lips curved in a perfect smile. God, I want to kiss her, but I decide as long as I have time, I may as well make good use of it.
She’s the one to break the silence, though. “So how far off was Nina with her guess? What do you guys actually do?”
I purse my lips, cursing silently. I’d have preferred to let Booth be the one to answer questions like this. And he did, but Callie and I were too distracted to hear. I decide part of the truth is probably best, since I have no idea what Booth has already told Callie’s friend.
“She was right. We’re both former military and now work in law enforcement.”
She narrows her eyes. “That’s a pretty broad area. Are you saying you really are FBI? I know who usually gets added to the guest list for this thing. I’ve attended every year since college. I don’t often see a lot of cops, so if you’re law enforcement, it’s one of a handful of agencies. Or is it one of those ‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you’ situations?” She affects a mocking basso voice and I chuckle.
“No, not like that, but I’m not sure what the protocol is for talking about what I do. I usually defer to Booth. He’s kind of like my commanding officer.”
She studies my face with faint concern. “It’s dangerous, isn’t it? Whatever you do. When I saw you in the hospital the other day, you looked really rough. Like, just-walked-in-from-a-bar-brawl rough. That wasn’t what happened to you, was it?”
“Not exactly, no. And yeah, what I do is dangerous, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about here.” As long as Zavala’s and Amador’s cabrones keep their tussles to the alleys.
“Oh, I’m not worried. I know the security staff, and they’re no slouches. If they let you in, then you belong here. But if you’re not comfortable talking about it, I’ll leave it alone.”
“I work for the DEA,” I confess out of some weird need to not be left alone. I want to tell her everything for some reason, but know I can’t. Not this soon. Under the circumstances, at this party surrounded by a bunch of other suits, it feels almost acceptable to admit, even though where I was a week ago it would’ve gotten me killed. It nearly had.
She stops moving and stares for a couple breaths before blinking. “Really?”
The shift in her demeanor is subtle, but difficult to ignore. She’s tense now where she was relaxed a moment ago. Shit, maybe my instincts were wrong this time and I managed to spook her.
“Yeah. I was undercover for a while, but just got back. Booth is my handler. I think that’s about all I can share, though.”
She nods with a small sigh. “That makes sense. Nina’s going to flip.”
“Oh?” I ask, pulling back to look into her eyes again. “Does she have a thing for DEA agents or something?”
She lets out a rueful laugh. “No, it’s more complicated than that. How long have you worked with them? I still have acquaintances in the agency.”
“Three years, but I’ll be honest—Booth is the only one I really know. I went through him for everything.” It was him and Flores, but she doesn’t need to know that. It’s bad enough she probably already guessed that my family’s linked to Flores, so I don’t want to paint a whole picture of the old man’s ties to
