“I don’t recommend it,” Girard said, grimacing as he changed position to face her across the table. “You’ve been busy.” His eyes travelled over the paper notebooks that Hallie had been writing in. She’d ignored the electronic tablet in favour of theold-fashioned writing methods. She had one notebook full of long-hand notes, a kind of report to herself, and the other full of lists of questions and unknowns.
“Just trying to write some things down while they are still fresh in my mind.” She frowned down at the page she’d been working on. Another list. But with Girard sitting in front of her, more or less in one piece after everything he’d been through in the past day, she had other things on her mind. The echoes of the worry and fear she’d felt when he’d been unconscious and unresponsive were still inside her. This was the first time they had been alone with both of them awake since Manju had been shot and she realised she couldn’t wait any longer to ask Girard about the strange distance she’d felt between them over the past couple of weeks. She lifted her gaze to his. “I need to ask you something. I’m not sure it’s the best time. In fact, I’m sure it’s not the best time, but I want to ask you anyway.”
“You can ask me anything, any time. Even if you don’t think it’s the right time or whatever. Besides, it seems I have a pretty hard head,” Girard said, with another rueful smile, “so my brain is still intact, even if the rest of me doesn’t feel like it. And a distraction from the bruises and the bullet hole would be welcome. What is it?”
“Alright,” Hallie said, but still hesitated. “It’s not work.” When he didn’t say anything, just kept watching her with calm blue eyes shadowed with pain, she drew a sharp breath in and plunged ahead. “You said you liked me. And I said I liked you. And I do. I meant it, and I know you did, too, at the time. But, well, sometimes it hasn’t felt quite like that over the past couple of weeks. And I don’t know what I’ve missed or what I should be doing.” Her face was burning with embarrassment. She wasn’t sure that the words pouring out of her made any sense at all, or even conveyed all the mixed-up feelings and thoughts she’d beencarrying around. “I really am no good at this, either,” she said, echoing a comment he’d made to her a while ago.
“Hallie,” he said, the warmth in his voice cutting through some of her awkwardness. She looked up to find that his eyes were full of warmth, a hint of colour on his own face. “I am sorry that I ever made you question me.” He shook his head slightly and stretched his free hand out to her. She put hers into it and felt the welcome and familiar warmth of his fingers wrap around hers. “I do like you. I more than like you. I’m fairly sure I’m in love with you.”
Hallie’s mouth dropped open but no sound came out. She’d felt like a giddy teenager at the idea that Girard liked her.Lovewas something she didn’t feel at all prepared for, even as a thrill ran through her. Love wasn’t for silly teenagers. Not when it involved Girard, who she suspected had never been giddy, even when he had been a teenager.
Even as her mind scrambled and spun to try to understand what he was telling her, his thumb ran over the back of her hand, calling her attention back to him.
“Can I try to explain?” he asked.
Finding she didn’t have a voice, she just nodded.
“We’ve been away from everything that was familiar to you. And we’re out here for work. Everything around us is different from Daydawn. I wanted to give you time to find your feet a bit. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel pressure from me to do something or say something that you weren’t ready for.”
The words rang through Hallie’s senses with absolute sincerity and the integrity that was one of Girard’s finest qualities, as far as she was concerned.
“So, if I’ve seemed a little distant, that’s why,” he finished. “I hope that made sense.” A small frown pulled his brows together.
“Yes. It did. You are one of the kindest people I know,” Hallie said in a low voice, the words tumbling out and a different kindof warmth flooding her. This was the Girard she was drawn to. The quiet intensity and honesty. The person who believed in her. “And I’m really not used to that. It never occurred to me you were trying to be nice.” She wanted to throw herself across the table and wrap him up in a hug. But he was still hurting and she didn’t want to cause him more pain. Instead, she stood up, still holding onto his hand, and moved to stand beside him. He tilted his head back to meet her eyes. She couldn’t put words to the expression on his face, only knew that it drew her forward. She put her free hand on the side of his face feeling his skin warm and real and vital under hers, felt his mouth curve in a smile, then bent and kissed him with as much gentleness and warmth and feeling as she could manage, mindful of his injuries. She straightened and held his eyes for a long moment more. “Do you think if we keep practising being honest and talking to each other, it will get easier?”
“I hope so,” he answered, smiling. He lifted their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand then turned it over and pressed another kiss onto her palm, which made her catch her breath. “I’m willing to find out, if you are?”
“I am,” Hallie confirmed, smiling back at him.
Bootsteps in the corridor outside let her know that a pair of the tactical team were on patrol. They would stay in the corridor unless she called them in, so she didn’t move away from Girard, and he didn’t let her go. But as the smile faded from his face, she saw the tiredness and pain.
“You need some more rest,” she told him.
He laughed, the sound broken off into a gasp as if he’d jolted one or more of his wounds.
“Not just yet. I feel like I’ve missed a lot, being unconscious.” He let go of her hand and nodded to the table and the notebooks Hallie had been writing in. “Want to catch me up?”
Not dismissing her, Hallie realised. Nor even trying to put distance between them. But asking for something. Information that he wanted and needed to do his job. Well, she could do that.
“Absolutely.” She moved back to her chair and sat down again. “I was trying to remember the papers that were on that table. At least one of the strikes was aimed at it, so I’m guessing whatever was on there must have been important.”
“You’re sure about the strikes?” Girard asked, leaning forward slightly, eyes intent on her face.
“I am. I’ve gone over it a dozen times in my mind,” Hallie said, and gestured to her notes. “That’s from my perspective, though. The others might have different angles.”
“I trust your judgement,” Girard said. He was frowning now. “I wish I’d thought to film the table or at least take photographs of the pages.”
“Pictures. Of course. I can’t believe I forgot,” Hallie said, and wanted to shake herself. She pulled out her phone. “I was taking some photos when the attacks started. I don’t have everything. I’ve got perhaps a dozen, perhaps more.”
“Can you send them to your tablet?” Girard asked.
“Sure.” It took a moment, as the process was still fairly new, but Hallie managed to get the images she’d taken sent to her tablet, then passed the device across the table to Girard. He bent his head to the larger screen.
“Oh, good, you’ve got pictures of the port lists. That’s really helpful,” he said a moment later. “I’m going to send these to the director.”
“There was the tablet there, as well,” Hallie said, her mind replaying the moments before the smoke bomb had landed. Girard had been holding the electronic device, and speaking to the director. “I know the building was burned, so the casing might have melted, but would the memory or chip have survived?” They were going back to Daydawn soon, and theforensic team there might be able to pull something useful even from a damaged device.
“Possibly.” Girard sounded hesitant.
