Page 92 of Under Arthur’s Protection

“This is about your safety, not your job.”

“All right. I’ll go back to plan A and do it myself.”

That was the most foolish, ridiculous, bone-headed⁠—

She picked up a fresh wipe and leaned toward my face. “Hold still.”

I did as she asked while she cleaned the dried blood from my lip. But her fingers were close to my mouth, her face inches from mine. A vision of her lips closing around the spoon as she tried my sauce came over me. Of my thumb on her chin, then in my mouth. The way her lips had parted when my fingers slid against her cheek.

Get out of there.

I stood up so fast, the chair toppled over.

She sat back, the wipe hanging from her hand. “Arthur⁠—”

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine. I paced all of ten feet to the far wall and pressed my palms to the concrete. “Gwen, I can’t let you go to Tintagel and stand by while⁠—”

While what? While the people who’d sent Rick came after her? While the organization that had planted a forged document and a surveillance camera and three men in a parking lot focused all of their attention on the woman I⁠—

“While you get hurt.” I turned around. “This isn’t about your job. I don’t give a shit about the job right now, and neither should you.”

She raised an eyebrow at me from the chair, not arguing. She just fucking sat there, as though staring at me would make me change my mind. She was supposed to argue, so I could be forceful and put my foot down.

So I didn’t have to tell her the truth. Tell her what scared me. Tell her what⁠—

Fuck.

“I care too much about what happens to you.” I barked a stupid laugh. There. I’d said it.

I fucking cared.

My father would never say that. Not once, in my entire life, had he said he cared so much about another person that he was afraid for them. Not about my mother. Not about me. Not about anyone, unless it served a purpose.

I leaned against the wall and folded my arms, letting the cold from the concrete seep through my filthy shirt. “So there’s the truth. I’ve been in fucking war zones, and the scariest thing in the world right now isn’t Rick or whoever’s paying him. It’s the thought of you getting hurt because I brought you somewhere dangerous.”

There it is, Penn. That’s the reason you sent Lance to Malta and wound up in this fucking situation: You care too much.

“And instead of doing my goddamn job of protecting you, I kissed you.”

She blinked a few times, her brows pulling in tight, as though she had no idea what I was talking about.

Why did I say that out loud? Rick must have hit me harder than I’d thought.

Chapter 29

Gwen

“I was out of line. That’s not how this job is supposed to go, but I…” He unfolded his arms and rubbed his face.

Was he apologizing for the kiss? Or was he embarrassed by it?

I dropped the blood-covered antiseptic pad onto the table with the rest of the mess. “Are you sure you kissed me?”

He dragged his hands through his short hair and finally looked up at me again. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I mean…” Gravity took over, drawing me toward him. “I mean, I was pretty sure I was the one who kissed you.”

He stared at me. Apparently, it was his turn to be confused.