Her long lashes fluttered. He had to ease his legs out in front of him to give himself a little relief. He wasn’t cold in the least, but he thought it was a good idea to snag one of the throw blankets he’d set out to hide his reaction to her. That was becoming a big problem. A huge problem, he corrected himself. And a very uncomfortable one. He’d never had that before either. It was one he had to get on top of before she noticed and got scared.
“That’s a good question. You seem to ask very good questions. I’m sure I had great answers at one point, but over the last year or two, I’ve forgotten. I just don’t feel safe, but I don’t know why. I think it’s my inability to breathe. I can’t run if I need to. When I’m walking home from work or I’m at work or really anywhere, and someone confronts me, I feel extremely vulnerable.”
He was a strong man. Exceptionally strong. And fast. Since Whitney had performed his experiments, faster than human beings had ever thought possible. He’d had enough time to start taking those newer talents for granted. He worked on controlling them and learning to use them to the best of his ability, and that meant pushing his limits every day. There was no way he could put himself in Rory’s shoes.
She couldn’t physically get away from a confrontation. He hadn’t considered what that would feel like. She was short, and men would loom over her. If they deliberately wanted to intimidate her, they knew they easily could. He despised that for her. He could see why she would always want a barrier between her and a crowd.
“I’ve taken self-defense classes and I can handle some weapons, but the truth is, I don’t have staying power.” She stopped abruptly and pressed her fingers over her lips, her eyes going wide. “Isuppose I shouldn’t admit that to you. You’re really a stranger to me. I don’t know why you don’t feel like a stranger when you really are. This is so bizarre.”
“You don’t feel like a stranger to me either,” he admitted. “Since I don’t know the first thing about relationships, I can’t call it bizarre. For all I know, when a man finds the right woman, they just click, and they aren’t strangers at all.”
She shook her head. “It isn’t like that.”
“You said you don’t know anything about relationships either, so you can’t say for certain.” He held out his plate. “More of everything, please.”
Rory gave him one of her smiles. “You ate all that while you were talking. How did you manage?”
“It’s a practiced art. Street kid, remember? You eat what you can, when you can. Then most of the family joined the military with me, and I had to fight for my food all over again. Now they’re with me here, and when one of the women cooks, it’s every man for himself. I know exactly how fast those men can eat, especially when they try to distract you by talking.”
Her laughter washed over him like a bright warm wave. “I see. You really are like one big family. I imagine if you wanted seconds, you would have to eat fairly fast.”
“Not fairly.” He took the plate from her. “Just plain fast. Manners go out the window if it’s fantastic food. We try to pretend we’re civilized later, but during the actual dinner, it’s every man for himself.”
He couldn’t help teasing her just to watch her eyes light up.
“I’m a big man, Rory. The time to worry about coming up here alone with me was before you did it, not now. Telling me you run out of steam fast is going to put you at a disadvantage even if you had ten weapons on you.”
She shrugged, not looking too upset. “I told you I felt abnormallycomfortable around you. I’m just going with it. Besides, you might start worrying about me. Did you ever once consider I might be a black widow?”
He’d been in the process of taking a drink from the bottle of beer he’d just opened. He nearly spit it down the front of him, mainly because his mind kept circling back, wondering if it was possible she was a GhostWalker. If she was, that meant Whitney most likely sent her out to spy on them.
“There’s that. I hadn’t considered that possibility. I suppose I should have. Are you?” he asked solemnly. He heard lies. If she answered verbally, he should be able to hear one way or another what she was there for. He sent a silent prayer to the universe that she wasn’t there to screw with him.
“No. You said you worked in security. People who work in security companies aren’t typically wealthy, Gideon. I think black widows usually go after wealthy targets. It didn’t occur to me you might have money when you came into the bar. Men with the kind of money to own a building like this one wear a certain type of clothing and act with a kind of entitlement you don’t. I suspect your company owns this building, not you. At least I hope your company does, because I wouldn’t know what to do or even say if you owned it.”
Every word she said was the absolute honest truth; at least he heard the truth. He let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t ask him for confirmation, probably because she didn’t want to embarrass him. He ate the potato salad and washed it down with beer. She had such a compassionate nature. He was allowing her to believe things about him that weren’t true, but it was safer for her. At least until he had her completely hooked.
Her long lashes kept sweeping down, an alluring temptation that was becoming much harder to resist. He set the beer bottledown and turned fully to her, reaching to remove her water bottle. The moment his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt the familiar shocking sizzle of electricity rush through his bloodstream.
“Gideon.” She whispered his name, her eyes going wide. She gave a cautionary shake of her head.
He felt the sound of her voice combine with sparks of electricity to streak through his veins and spread through his body. Gideon slid one hand into the thick silk of her untamed cherry-red hair. He’d been a little desperate to feel it, and he wasn’t in the least disappointed. He closed his fist around the wild waves and curls, tipping her head back slightly and holding her still.
“This might not be such a good idea.” She regarded him steadily under the veil of her thick reddish lashes.
“It’s the only sane idea,” he countered, because it was. Theonlyway he could take another breath. Think another thought. Survive the next minute.
“I’m not going to be good at this,” she warned.
He urged her closer to him, just enough that her upper body rested against his. He felt the softness of her breasts against the heavy muscles of his chest. Her heartbeat accelerated. His clenched hard. He had to suppress a groan. Up close, her eyes were larger and even more gorgeous than he had first realized, surrounded by those long cherry-tipped lashes. The dusting of golden freckles and her full lips were temptation itself.
He slid the pad of his thumb over the soft curve of her bottom lip. So soft, like velvet. His gut clenched. His heart jerked in his chest. He knew if he kissed her, she would own him, but then she already did. He was tied to her in a way he didn’t understand, but every minute in her company only deepened that connection. He’d never had a reaction like this to anyone—this recognition. The awakening of his body and mind. Every nerve ending coming alive.The scorching flames leaping from cell to cell, spreading through him. Through her. Consuming them both. He knew it was both.
“Gideon.” This time she moaned his name. An ache, her lips moving erotically against his thumb. “We could be in trouble.”
“I don’t think we have a choice, Red.” He stroked caresses along the curve of her bottom lip.Hedidn’t have a choice, not when her tongue touched his skin, a sinful temptation that sent heat swirling into a fierce fist in the pit of his stomach.
His fingers tightened in her thick hair, and he lowered his mouth to hers. He was a rough man. He’d never known tenderness in his life. He was gentle with her. Tender even. He coaxed her with small kisses, nibbling at the corners of her mouth, tugging at her lower lip, nipping gently. Using his tongue along the seam of her lips. Tasting a hint of wild Spanish lavender.
