“Pippa—” he started.
“No.” She held up a hand. “We’ve hashed it out repeatedly, and the plan is in place. No more arguing, no more strategizing. We’re there, Malcolm. On Op, as you would say.”
He should never have agreed back at HDD, but yeah, the plan was in place. Angus had even arranged for somebody from the HDD to fetch Pippa’s car and bring it back to her driveway.
Mal turned into his driveway and pressed the garage door button he’d taken from his truck. “We’re not on Op for two hours. So we should probably talk.”
She blinked. “Um, okay.” Confusion blanketed her delicate features. “About what?”
“Us,” he blurted out, his voice rough. There was a good chance one of them wasn’t coming back from this. Every instinct he had bellowed for him to pull the van back out and drive away. Far away.
“Oh.” She opened her door. “Well, okay. I have some cookies left over. Why don’t you come over and we’ll have dessert and um, talk?” They’d eaten pizza several hours before at the office.
He nodded. “Give me about fifteen minutes to clean out the back of the van and I’ll be over after a quick shower.” He only needed to ditch the shovel and wipe up the blood so it couldn’t be seen. It didn’t have to be a thorough cleaning job, just enough to please Isaac if he looked inside. The work would give him a chance to think about what to say to Pippa.
The words weren’t coming easily.
Not with the threat of death hanging over their heads.
But this might be his last chance. He was taking it.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Pippa walked through her beloved cottage, her heart aching. There was a chance she’d make it back home, but not a very good one. Even though she’d been alone for much of her time here, she’d been happy. Then even more so when she’d met Malcolm.
She took a fast shower and paused after brushing out her wet hair. Should she dress for her Op or for Malcolm? They had a couple more hours together, and even if things remained jumbled emotionally, she didn’t want to miss the chance for another good memory. She slid pink lip gloss over her mouth.
Her heart thundering, she fetched a bright blue teddy set that showed off her eyes and then put it on. There was something empowering about making the first move. The silk top came to her midriff, and the matching panties were a thong. Slightly uncomfortable but definitely sexy.
She’d bought it on a whim and hadn’t thought she’d ever actually wear it. The matching robe was in her closet, and she had to remove the price tag before sliding into it and securely tying the belt.
Should she put on high heels? Her one pair was black and shiny, so they’d kind of match.
His knock on the door stopped her musings. Heat burst into her face. What was she thinking? “Um, come in,” she called, her feet frozen on her bedroom floor. Her bare feet.
The sound of the door opening came first, his footsteps second. “Pippa? Where are my cookies?”
She blanched. There was a good one-liner in there somewhere, but her mind was blank. Drawing on courage she hadn’t realized she’d need, she strode into the doorway. “Why? Are you hungry?” she asked. Good line. Yeah, that was a good line. She’d nailed it.
He stopped near the colorful sofa, his chin dropping. His eyes flared a hot green as he looked his fill. Then he shook his head like a dog needing to sneeze. His still-damp hair curled around his collar. “Wow.”
Her breath released. Okay. He hadn’t rejected her outright. Her fingers fumbled, but she released the tie and let the barely there robe fall open.
The sound he made would stay with her for the rest of her life. Male and hungry. For her.
But he didn’t move.
So she did. The guy had pulled her like a magnet from day one, and tonight was no different. Reaching him, she slid her hands over the hard planes of his chest and looked way up into his rugged face. “We have two hours, Malcolm. How do you want to spend them?”
His lip twisted. “I had planned on talking you out of the Op.”
“No deal. What’s plan B?” Her hands slid down his chest and over his ripped abdomen, pulling his shirt free of his jeans.
He swallowed audibly. His gaze darkening, he reached for her right shoulder and gently pushed the robe away. The silky material fell down to her elbow. He breathed out, the sound tortured. His gaze ran across her chest, and her nipples pebbled as if he’d used his hands. Heat poured from him, overwhelming her as he pushed the other side of the robe down.
The robe caught on her elbows, and she shrugged her shoulders to free the material to fall to her feet, leaving her in a teddy and thong.
His intense gaze traveled from her face down to her toes before coming back up. “You’re beautiful, Pippa.”
