Seeing her like this, stripped of every defense, I realize the only thing left to do is protect what’s left. Without a word, I step closer, closing the distance she’s kept between us for weeks. I reach for her, sliding my hands beneath her knees and shoulders, and scoop her into my arms.
As I carry her down the dimly lit hallway, the only sound is the rhythmic, heavy thud of my shoes against the wood and her soft, shallow breath against my neck. She feels fragile like this, finally settled against me with her forehead resting in the hollow of my throat. Surprisingly, she doesn’t protest.
When we get to the main bedroom, I turn toward the ensuite. I set her down gently on the lid of the closed toilet as I start the water in the large clawfoot tub.
The room fills with steam, blurring the edges of the mirrors. She just watches me with dazed, quiet eyes, looking like she’s lost her place in the world now that she’s stopped resisting the pull between us. For the first time, she isn’t looking for an exit; she’s just looking at me.
Once the tub is full, I reach out and lift her again. Her head falls naturally against my shoulder as I lower her into the heat of the water. Any leftover tension finally drains out of her in a single, heavy slump, her muscles going slack as the warmth envelops her.
I linger for a second, my hand resting on the porcelain rim, watching her sink into the water. For a moment, I just let myself lookat her without the weight of our history pulling at us. I reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, before pulling back.
“I’ll have some clothes waiting for you on the bed when you’re finished,” I murmur as I turn to leave the room. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 23
ARDEN
A cool breeze and streaks of sunlight streaming in through the open villa window tug me from sleep. My hand reaches across the bed, but all I feel are cold sheets.
Locke must be awake already, as usual. It’s really a wonder I woke up before him the night we met… I haven’t since. I rub my eyes, dragging my hands down my face as last night rushes back to me.
As much as I try to recall the details, it’s mostly a blur. It comes back only in disjointed flashes. His hands pinning mine to marble, the cold countertop against my spine, the scent of whiskey on his breath as he told me he wasn’t stopping until I begged. And I did.
I groan softly.Fuck.How are we ever going to finish this job now? He could barely handle the sight of me flirting with Luke at the gala, and that was just a harmless conversation. This, though, this just strengthened the pull between us. We’ve broken down the only wall that kept us focused. How do I go back to being his ‘employee’ when I know exactly what he looks like when he loses control?
I wonder if he left because he’s having the same thoughts. I stare at the ceiling, waiting for the familiar, cold focus of the mission ahead to return, but it’s muted by the phantom weight of his hands still pressing against my skin.
As if he read my mind, the door creaks open and Locke strolls into the bedroom in nothing but his boxers, sunlight highlighting the thick black lines covering his chest, torso, and arms. It’s easy to forget how much of his body is covered in ink when he’s always wearing suits that cover it. It should be illegal to look that good.
He’s carrying a massive platter stacked with pastries, a large bowl of fruit, and two tiny coffee cups.
“Espresso!” I squeal.
“I figured you’d want options.” His voice is rough with sleep, but his eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them. There’s a certain sense of contentment about him now that wasn’t there before.
He places the tray gently on the bed and climbs in beside me. We both go for the espresso first, using our pointer fingers and thumbs to lift the tiny cups to our lips.
“You know, we’re really making a mess of the employee handbook.” I gesture between us and the tray. “I keep trying to find a way that we can go back to normal, but I think we’ve already gone too far for that. There’s not a shred of professional distance left to hide behind, is there?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m afraid not. But do you really wantnormalwhen we can be something so much more?”
I hold his gaze, the warmth of the espresso and the sheer nakedness of the man beside me making it hard to even entertain the thought of leaving this bed. I sigh, knowing he’s right once again. “Give me the mess over ‘normal’ any day,” I admit, my smile growing wide. “I think I prefer this version of Lochlan Bishop. We both know my life is far from normal as it is.”
He smiles too, but that unreadable look returns as he sets his cup down. “The problem with this version,” he says, his voice losing its playful edge, “is that he’s dreading the part where we have to stop beingthisand go back to being whatever the hell we are out there.” He gestures toward the window.
He leans in, his hand resting on the mattress next to my hip. “I don’t want to find our way back to normal, because ‘normal’ was us pretending we didn’t want to do this every day. I’m done with the act.”
He searches my face, probably waiting to see if I’ll agree or try to brush it off, like I have so many times before.
“I want to know that when the threats are over and the job is done, I don’t have to ask for permission to be near you anymore. Is that something you can live with?”
I feel the energy in the room shift. The realization settles between us. This has gone from a temporary mess to something that actually has a future. “I think I can manage that,” I whisper.
He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his gaze intensifies, that unreadable look finally sharpening into something close to regret. “And I know I said you could do jobs like this and make real money, when we met,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’ve realized I just can’t stand watching you do it.”
His hand moves from the mattress to the small of my back, pulling me just an inch closer. “I don’t want you to have to play these games just to get by. Let me take care of you, Arden. Let me be the one who makes sure you’re set, so you never have to choose between a paycheck and your peace.”
I’m quiet for a moment, the weight of his offer, and the possessiveness behind it, settling over me. It’s a complete departure from the man who threatened me with jail time to get me to agree to this job in the first place.
