Mine - HelenKay Dimon Page 0,1
guessed she’d get along just fine with so little direction. She’d somehow find her way back from their undisclosed location to wherever she intended to hide. Then she’d probably get shot in the head.
Yeah, not on his watch. “You’re staying with me.”
“You don’t get to decide.”
“I actually do.” He had a work contract in his office back at his company, Tosh Industries, that trumped her denials. She might not like the protection but her friends, concerned friends who were players among the Washington, D.C., power elite, had arranged it for her, paid for it, and she agreed in front of them. Now she was stuck. Gabe intended to see the operation through even if he had to lock her in a closet and sit in front of the door to keep her there and safe.
She continued to tap those fingers against the tabletop. “I’m a grown woman.”
“Believe me, I know.” He’d eyed every inch of her. Watched her walk and studied her file. He hadn’t seen her naked, but he could guess. That confidence, the swish of those hips. It all played in his mind on an endless loop until he ached with the need to strip that proper navy suit off her.
She froze in her chair. “I make my own decisions.”
“Not right now.” He did. He was in charge. He meant for work, but the idea of taking control in every other way appealed to him, too. Way more than it should.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He suddenly needed to say the words, to clue her in that she had him on edge. “Your body belongs to me.”
Tension flooded the room. Quick and without warning. Heat surged through him. Her big blue eyes blinked. She didn’t say anything, which should have been a relief, but Gabe felt anything but calm. His skin drew tight, felt stretched, his stomach hollow. The need to fuck her gripped him.
She leaned forward, not a big change in position. No, very subtle, almost imperceptible. “Excuse me?”
He cleared his throat. “For now. Until we know you’re out of danger. I decide what happens with you.”
Adding the context didn’t help to settle the energy pinging around the room. He shifted in his seat across from her and tried to rein in the thoughts bombarding him. She was a job, and an annoying one. When the first mental reminder failed, he tried again.
Most people appreciated his protection once they got over the shock of the cost. He didn’t do everyday shit. His business focused on covert, need-to-know cases. He didn’t advertise or go looking for work. Jobs came to him by reputation and through people who knew all the dirty little secrets. And the never-ending flood of those in Washington, D.C., kept him very busy.
He eyed the water bottle in front of her, thinking she’d have to take a breath or a drink soon. “I can name three members of your old team at the agency—the team you ran for the CIA—who are now dead.”
She shrugged. “Things happen.”
Like a fireball written off as a gas explosion. A murder-by-vehicle explained away as a fluke car accident. Accidental shootings, random robberies gone wrong. Gabe had seen it all, and so had she, which was why she needed to stop fighting and let him help.
“I’m not in the mood for games.” He needed to stand up, pace around. He forced his body to stay still.
“Which means what?”
“Give me some credit and don’t pretend I don’t know how your business works.”
She finally grabbed the water bottle. Held it. Tapped the bottom against the desk. “My old business. I’m unemployed. I followed my instincts, protected my team, and my boss pulled my security clearance. I couldn’t even get the okay to take a public tour of the building these days.”
He’d picked this office building as a neutral stop before they took off because it sat miles away from her condo in Washington, D.C., and her office at Langley. Outside the metro area. He’d hustled her out and kept her under wraps. But they needed to keep moving. They actually had a plane to catch. Not that she knew that, but it meant they were on a timetable and if she didn’t work with him soon he’d have to take drastic steps.
Just thinking about what that meant started a countdown ticking in his head. “You have five minutes.”
“Then what?” She rolled the water bottle between her palms. “You shoot me?”
This woman never stopped. He pushed, she pushed back. He just wished he knew