ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (66 page)

“Change
the future,” I finished for him. “Yeah. I know. But it doesn’t make it better.”

“Not if
you don’t let it,” he said. “Sandra… what I did… what I
didn’t
do…
that’s going to take a long time for me to forgive. And I’ll work through it,
someday. But what happened to you and your sister? That was a lifetime ago.
That’s something you’ve paid for time and time again. I can see it in your
eyes. Haven’t you punished yourself enough? What would Jenny say?”

“Jenny’s
dead,” I said. Even though it had been years, tears sprang to my eyes like I’d
lost her just yesterday. “She can’t say anything.”

“But
you
can,” he insisted, standing up from the table and walking to my side. He knelt
down on the ground and took both my hands in his, and I gasped audibly. “You
can tell yourself you’re forgiven. You can
stop
telling yourself that you’re
worthless and to blame. You can tell yourself it’s time to move on and that
you’ll never make the same mistakes again. And you can tell yourself that
you’ll always be there for young people like Jenny who got lost along the way,
and that you’ll use your position in the police department to offer them a way
out.”

I
looked down at our hands, my vision blurred by my sorrow. This was the first
time since I’d known him that Nathaniel Hale took the time to ask me about my
past. It was the first time I genuinely believed he was listening to me.
Staring at our entwined fingers I just wanted to cry. It was beautiful.

“Doesn’t
that seem a hell of a lot more fair to you than spending your whole life as a
prisoner of your own guilt? And doesn’t that seem more fair to the lives you
could save by doing so?”

I
stared into his eyes, into those gold-green gems glittering in the candlelight.
I was looking for the lie, for the thing that would tell me he wasn’t sincere.
I didn’t believe anybody could know what I did and tell me to forgive myself. I
didn’t believe anyone could look at me the way he was looking at me right now
and really mean it.

But I
couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find anything but honesty and acceptance. This was
a man I’d known only as a sexual fling and a childish asshole, but now, looking
into his eyes, I felt like we were one and the same. We were both looking for
redemption. What if we’d found it in each other?

“You
deserve better than this,” he said to me, and I couldn’t help it; I threw my
arms around his neck, and without giving myself even a millisecond to
reconsider, I kissed him as hard as I could.

Our
lips crashed together, but somehow fit as perfectly as they always did. I felt
fireworks go off in my chest and stars burst behind my closed eyelids. I felt
the heat of his body pressed against mine, the scorching ferocity of his mouth
blending with my own, his arms moving around my waist to cradle me, comfort me,
make me whole again.

As his
strong fingers clutched at my back, I pulled away, trembling violently. I
looked again into his hazy, lust-filled eyes. His jaw was clenched as he
searched my face, looking very much like a man doing his best to hold his
desires back.

“Sandra,”
he whispered, “we shouldn’t do this…”

“I
know,” I told him, my lips aching for another kiss. But it wouldn’t be
right—not like this. Not when I was still assigned to his case and sworn to
protect him. I couldn’t do that if I was compromised by my feelings. I’d broken
things off with Nathaniel Hale for a good reason, and I had to keep a
professional distance no matter what my body was telling me.

I stood
up, liberating myself from the circle of his arms and wiping my eyes with the
back of my wrist. Every cell in my body screamed for me to return to him, but I
couldn’t let my heart overrule my head. I couldn’t put Nathan in potential
danger by letting myself get distracted, and after what I’d just done, I
couldn’t bear to sit there and take another bite of dinner.

“I’m
going to bed,” I murmured, ignoring the longing pulsations between my thighs.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Nathan
nodded slowly. I could see his rippling muscles bunch up like he was ready to
pin me to that couch and fuck away every bad feeling and thought threatening to
destroy me. I could almost feel the weight of him on top of me, pushing me
down, sinking into me as he made me his again. I could taste his lips again, or
feel the flame of his tongue darting against my own. I could almost feel his
flesh beneath my nails.

But no. Not now. Not yet. Not until I knew he was
safe.

“Goodnight,”
he said, his voice strained as he watched me pull the screen around the couch
so I could change into my pajamas.

“Goodnight,”
I echoed, slipping under the blanket I’d brought from home. As I listened to
the sounds of him cleaning up the table, I tried desperately not to touch
myself and drifted off into a restless night’s sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE

Morning
came
far too quickly for a girl who’d spent the evening entrenched in nightmares.

I’d
been dreaming about Jenny, of course, and my mother, too. I’d dreamt their
corpses were in our old living room, stuck with the thousand needles they’d
used to keep their demons at bay. They were bloated and bruised, but all
smiles, with teeth too bright for dead girls.

And all
the while, they kept asking how
I
was, if
I
had made myself a
hero yet. And in my dream, all I could do was say, “No, Mom,” and “No, Sis,”
like some shameful little girl, and they laughed and laughed and laughed.

Why the
hell did you kiss him?
I thought to
myself, pondering my own stupidity as I sat up on the smelly couch. I guessed
the only good thing about last night was that the department was fighting a
budget crisis and probably didn’t have any ears in this room.

“Stupid,”
I whispered. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or to the man still
entombed in a sea of Egyptian cotton. We’d told Nathan to pack for a week, and
he apparently used most of his luggage space to stow away miles of white sheets
with an almost impossibly high thread-count. No sleeping like a commoner for
that man.

I
didn’t need this. I didn’t need any of this. My life was complicated enough
without trying to jump back into bed with someone who’d probably cut himself on
cheap toilet paper. I’d learned my lesson once, and I didn’t need to be
reminded.

Did I want to do it anyway? Yes. Was I going to? Hell
no.

The sun
was coming up, and he was still sleeping as I began my little ritual. I spent
five minutes at each window surveying the ground, taking note of everything
worth noting. Cars parked in the lot by make and model, loitering individuals
with their general descriptions, places someone could hide… Captain Pierce
would expect an update with his morning coffee, and I wanted to be the detective
on top of this case, not the woman who spilled her heart out and kissed the
star witness.

And
there
was
a problem out there. There were at least a dozen men posted
about in unusual places. Not police, that much was certain. I could spot an
undercover from a mile away, but these men were different. I spotted another
one out on a little patch of grass on the edge of the property, his back leaned
up against a tree, hands in front of him and his head slowly turning from one
side to the other as if searching for something—or someone. A moment later, a
pair of men came rounding the block again, walking calmly down the sidewalk.
That was the third time they’d passed.

They
were ex-military. No question. If I could see twelve of them, there were
probably a dozen more being a little less conspicuous. With the entire
apartment being too small to allow me a quiet place to make the phone call, I
decided the little area that doubled as a living room was probably best. I
lifted the phone to my ear.

“Detective, I expected this call ten minutes ago.”

Captain Pierce was being his usual rosy self.

“I have
eyes on some men downstairs. At least twelve, well trained. They appear to be
holding position around the building.”

“Yes, Sandra.
Mr. Hale insisted on private security. We have a few trusted officers posted in
the building, but we can’t afford to throw an entire squad at this problem. The
world doesn’t stop being a bad place when a rich asshole needs protection. Mr.
Hale has invested a small fortune in protecting himself since your little visit
to his house,” the Captain replied gruffly.

“And
you’re going to tell me these men can be trusted, and that they aren’t
potentially compromising this entire operation?” I asked indignantly. How in
the world could the Captain be okay with this? Mercenaries were in it for the
money, and if there was one thing Mr. Wallace had in abundance, it was money.
We were supposed to be running a low-profile operation, not informing every
Tom, Dick, and Harry in the tri-state area of our location.

“How’s
Mr. Hale holding up?” the Captain asked, changing the subject without answering
my question.

“He’s
settling in,” I replied, staring over at the lump under the sheets.

“Excellent. Stay put and try not to worry, Candy.”

I
cringed, biting my tongue and trying not to give the Captain my what-for. He
knew what he was doing. I could practically see the sneer on this face, could
practically hear him biting back a chortle in his tone. This was going to be a
long day…

“Morning, sweetheart.”

I
jumped two feet into the air, smacking my head squarely on the slowly rotating
ceiling fan that hung perilously low in the shitty little living room. My head
thrummed with pain as it came down into the half-wall, half-counter that
separated the efficiency, and my vision dwindled into a tunnel as I hit the
floor.

Click… Click… Click…

The
sound was aggravating. It wouldn’t stop, just an incessant noise that was
keeping me from enjoying this moment of rest. I blinked, staring through hazy
eyes at the ceiling, the rotating blades spinning round with a lopsided motion
and causing the metal chain that operated the fan to smack against the lighted
glass dome.

Click… Click… Click…

“Are
you okay?” Nathan asked softly. His face appeared above me, a look of concern
painted across it.

The fog
was still lifting from my freshly-concussed brain, but already I was
identifying things that were wrong with my current situation. For one, I was
laying on the dirty-ass floor. For two, my eyes were locked on a rather
enormous and exceptionally erect penis. It had been awhile since I’d stopped my
little visits to Mr. Hale, and even longer since I’d been with a man. For a
brief moment, I considered doing something about that.

“How
many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, his balls jiggling as he moved.

“Oh,
for God’s sakes, put some clothes on!” I shouted, sitting up and rubbing my
head. “Were you…? What the hell were you doing over there?” I said,
inadvertently glancing back at his erection.

“I… uh…”

“What,
you can’t even make it one day? It’s bad enough I have to share a space with
you. You’d think you could at least keep your hand off your dick while I’m
around!”

My
brain was sorting everything out, the cloud lifting as I stared at this man. It
didn’t matter that I was practically drooling—that was probably thanks to the
brain injury I’d just experienced. The icing on the cake came as he started to
laugh.

“No,
you don’t get to laugh at this. I’m in here trying to keep you alive. You don’t
call me ‘sweetheart,’ and you don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before…”

“You’re
sorry
? What exactly are you
sorry
about? Are you sorry about last
night? Are you sorry about the men outside, or the way you’re risking this
whole operation by telling every private security firm in the region where
you’re hiding?”

I was
fuming now. I could hear my mother’s voice pouring out of my lips as I
chastised this entitled asshole.

“I
trust those guys. I’ve used them in the past. Besides, do you think the cops
your captain posted in this building would stop the Paddies? Maybe you weren’t
paying attention last time Wallace went on trial.”

He
still made no attempt to cover himself, his cock swinging side to side as he
talked, drawing my eyes again and again like the mechanized sweeping of a
metronome.

“Trust me,” he whispered, a grin spreading on his
face.

He was
doing this on purpose. I wrenched my eyes away from his genuinely
delicious-looking body and tried to calm my breathing. “Clothes on. Now. No
more secrets from here on out. If you intend to do anything to change the
nature of our living arrangement or our security, you need to inform me
immediately. And… no doing
that
,” I
said, waving at the God-given gift between his thighs.

“I
thought we were only supposed to be pretending? You’re starting to sound like a
nagging wife,” Nathan laughed. I hissed, hackles rising as I realized the only
way he’d take any of this seriously was if the threat to his livelihood seemed
real.

I stood
up, crossing the space and wrapping a hand around his most sensitive exposed
parts.

“Let me
make this perfectly clear, Nathan,” I said, clamping down harder and listening
to him yelp. “In here, you’re going to do what I say, or I’m going to throw you
to the wolves. Now, put your pants on.”

I
released him, turning away and trying desperately to ignore the burning desire
inside me. I’d just touched his cock, and even though I’d meant every word of
my threat, all I could think about was how the smooth, supple skin of his dick
had felt so right in my grasp. The pleasurable pulsations kissing him had
inspired in me last night returned with a vengeance, and I grimaced, trying my
best to once again ignore them.

What
the hell is wrong with you, Sandra? Don’t let this man affect you like this.
Hold it together…

I
didn’t have a chance to revel in my little show of force. Nathan’s hands swept
up behind me, grasping at my wrists and lifting them, throwing my hands against
the wall as he pressed against me from behind. I could feel the heat of his
dick against my ass and his breath catching just behind my ear.

“Jesus
Christ, Sandra. Do you even understand what you do to me?” he whispered,
holding my wrists tighter as my palms pressed against the cool wood paneling.
His breath swept through the hairs at my nape, sending goosebumps over every
inch of my skin. “Women fall over themselves to be with me. Bag the rich
guy—that’s the game, isn’t it? They play pretend. They want something. All of
them want something. You were always different. You never asked me for
anything...”

“I only
wanted you.”

“Then
why the fuck did you break it off with me?” Nathan said, straining against me.

“Because
you were too self-obsessed to give yourself to anyone. All we had was sex and
lies. I hated your immaturity. I hated everything about you,” I said, my body
practically purring with excitement.

He
released my wrists, but I kept my palms firmly planted against the wall,
rocking my hips ever so slightly against him and gasping as his fingertips
brushed slowly down my sides. He paused at the edge of my breasts, feeling them
through the thin t-shirt I’d slept in, teasing the rounded edges before moving
on to my hips.

“I’m
not that man anymore, Sandra,” he said huskily, his voice strained as he
pressed his fingertips into the soft spots at the front of my hips. I could
feel the slight tremor of his touch—he was so close to losing control. He
pressed harder, and I knew there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers
by the afternoon.

I
didn’t care. In fact, I realized, I
wanted
them. I wanted to look into the mirror later and see the remnants of when
Nathaniel Hale’s lust had gotten the better of him—and of me. Every time I
looked at my hips for the next few days, I wanted to shiver at the reminder of
all the dirty, filthy things this man had done to me.

I
moaned as he pressed his lips into my neck, gliding them over my flesh. He left
scorching trails wherever he went, like he was setting fire to my very being
with only the power of his caress. I could feel my pussy pulsing with want—no,
with
need.

I
wanted to hate-fuck Nathaniel Hale into oblivion, and maybe even beyond.

I
wanted to take out all my frustrations on this spoiled brat. I wanted to make
him
want for something, for once,
something I’d deny him until he was begging and pleading and broken beneath me.
But as much as I wanted that, I wanted him to take me, too, to show me what I’d
been missing since the day I left him high and dry in his fancy little castle
on the hill.

“You always
been so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, biting ever so softly on the slender
expanse of muscle between my shoulder and neck. I sucked in a breath through my
teeth, my knees trembling as he blew warm air over his teeth marks. “I can’t
control myself around you, not since that first time,” he added breathily, his
hands forcing my loose flannel bottoms down over my hips, the pants pooling
around my ankles as my skin tingled in the cool air.