No Escape From War (Trouble for Hire #1) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,13

last few weeks. Haven’t gotten out here much so I haven’t had a chance to, ah, clean out the place.”

Clean out…Right. That was code for he hadn’t had the chance to throw away the picture of them. He was explaining so she wouldn’t be confused and get the wrong idea about how he might feel. He shouldn’t have worried. She knew exactly how he felt. “It’s been fun. The sex was great. But it’s time for you to get the hell out, Rose.” His voice would haunt her late at night.

“You probably still have some clothes here.” Said casually. “Maybe a toothbrush. Not a big deal. Considering everything that is happening, you’re probably lucky to have that stuff here.”

She sank onto the couch. The cushions were soft and thick, and she wanted to curl her legs beneath her body and just roll up into a sad ball. Everything was so out of control. “I’m scared.” The confession slipped from her. And, yes, after her admission, she kicked off her shoes and curled up. Why the hell not? She was bone tired and curling up felt good.

He stared down at her. “You don’t need to be scared.”

A bitter laugh broke from Rose. “I have a serial killer chasing after me.” She peered up at him. “A serial killer,” she enunciated slowly. “Not some wanna-be thug. But an actual monster who has a string of bodies behind him. And I’m his next target. He’s not going to stop until he gets me.”

A muscle flexed along War’s hard jaw. He leaned down, and his hands pressed to the cushions around her. “You don’t need to be scared,” War repeated softly.

Her breath caught.

“Do you think for one second that I will let him get his hands on you again? If I’d known about him in that motel room, if I’d known the truth, I would never have left you. Dammit, Rose, why didn’t you come to me as soon as you were in trouble?”

Why? She’d thought that was obvious. “Because you hate me.”

He jerked back as if he’d been electrocuted. “What?”

“You told me to get out of your life. That you never wanted to see me again. You said I couldn’t be trusted, and that our time together was a waste.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I said all that shit?”

“All that and plenty more.” Words that were burned into her memory.

“I was…upset.”

She snorted.

His hand dropped. “Why the hell have I always found that sound sexy?”

It—

“Correction, why the hell do I find every single thing about you sexy?”

Her lips pressed together.

“I was drunk and upset that night, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

No, she wouldn’t buy that excuse. “First, I’ve never seen you drunk. You drink, yes, but you don’t go past your limits.” That was War. Always in complete and utter control. “And two—I’m sure you meant everything you said. I could see it in your eyes.” She did not want to walk down this particular path again. Especially not when she felt weak and vulnerable and all shaky on the inside. “Look, someone tried to kill me tonight.” She rubbed her fingers over her throat. “Can we skip the dreaded walk down memory lane? You told me to hit the road. I hit it.”

“You walked away without looking back.”

Seriously? “What did you expect me to do?” Now pride had her angling up her chin. “For your information…” In case he was under the wrong impression. “There are plenty of men out there who would love to be with me. Plenty.” Sure, perhaps love was too strong of a word. But whatever. “I don’t have to stand around and wait for someone who made it clear he can’t trust me.”

“Oh, I know there were plenty of others. First, I got the pic of you kissing that asshat Dylan.”

Wait. What—he’d gotten a picture? Of her and Dylan? How? When?

Goosebumps rose on her arms. “That’s how you knew about the kiss?” He hadn’t mentioned a picture before. She’d walked into his home—here—and found him sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer gripped in his hands. When he’d looked up at her, rage had been burning in his dark eyes.

“Second…since you like to list things in order, I’ll do it, too.” His hands were loose at his sides, but his body was hard and tense. “Second…when I came to your station the next day to talk, I found the vase of roses on your desk. I’m a nosey SOB, so when I