Chapter 14

Danielle

There’s something different about Janus now.

Something intense and serious.

“Do you want a drink, Janus?” I ask tentatively.

“Definitely,” he replies, locking his intent eyes on mine.

It gives me shivers.

Even in South Sudan, I never saw him even close to being this involved.

It’s the children, I reason. But there’s something more to it. Something about Janus, and his past, that those orphan children have struck a chord with.

I’m dying to know—not just because I’m an investigative journalist, but because I desperately want to know more about the man in front of my eyes.

I toss him a bottle of pinot grigio from the minibar, which Janus flawlessly catches in mid-air. He quirks an eyebrow at the drink.

“You think I’m a white wine person?”

“Not particularly, but I’m fresh out of red. My apologies,” I reply, incredibly unapologetically, as I take the last bottle of Merlot for myself and retrieve two wine glasses.

“Hmm,” is all Janus says as I pour the wine.

I hesitate for a second. “How about we take these over to the balcony, Janus? It’s been a long day.”

I expect him to refuse, given how much he’s kept me at arm’s length so far, but, to my surprise, he nods his head in agreement.

“Yes, I could do with the fresh air.”

We move over to sit by the tiny table on the balcony, watching the sun set and drinking wine as if we were a couple on holiday just like any other.

The thought makes me freeze.

Stop thinking like that.

Janus notices, of course.

“What’s wrong, Dani?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…the severity of the situation may have started to hit me,” I lie flawlessly.

In reality, the severity of the situation we’re in hit me a while ago, but as if I’d allow Janus to see me truly fearful. He’d only want to send me home again—and I only just got him to stay.

He laughs humorlessly. “It’s about time you became a bit more self-aware, Miss Reporter. How many times have I told you that you could very well die looking into this?”

“I know, I know,” I reply dismissively, talking a gulp of wine as I do so. “No need to rub it in my face. As if that would make me turn back at this point, though.”

“I’d be incredibly disappointed if you did,” Janus remarks quietly, staring at his wine glass as he swirls the liquid round and round, almost hypnotically so.

I stare at him, surprised. This is most certainly a change of tune for him.

But then I remember—this is personal for him now. I don’t know why, even though I want to, but it’s personal nonetheless. This is a Janus O’Connell who won’t let such frivolous notions as danger and death get in his way.

And it makes me all the more attracted to him. I don’t even understand how that’s physically possible.

But then I pause, thinking.

This change in his attitude hasn’t made me more physically attracted to him; it’s his emotional core that suddenly seems to resonate all the more with me.

Which makes Janus a very dangerous man indeed.

“Why are you looking at me as if you’re hoping I won’t notice, Miss Robinson?” Janus inquires, giving me a sidelong glance.

I flinch.

“It’s getting late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow,” I say, getting up suddenly. “You should probably get back to your own hotel, Janus, and we can get back to work tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

He gives me an unreadable look before standing up himself.

“I guess you’re right. I have some forgery to start on, anyway.”

“I meant that we should both be getting to bed, not for you to drown yourself in more work.”

“Both get to bed? Was that an invite, Dani?” Janus asks suggestively, clearly amused.

I roll my eyes as I walk him to the door of my hotel room.

“You’re hilarious. Good night, Janus.”

I hold the door open for him, but he pauses in the door frame to regard me, a curious and intent look in his eyes. Though I can feel my face heat up in response, I force myself to hold his gaze.

For one unbearable moment, I truly believe that he’s going to kiss me, and I truly believe that I’ll reciprocate.

But then he looks away.

“Good night, Dani,” Janus says before heading for the elevator.

I close the door, heart pounding as I back up against it and slide to the floor.

That was too close. Far too close.

“What am I doing?” I scold myself aloud.

I can’t afford to indulge my incessant attraction to Janus. I can’t.

There are so many more important things for me to do. The case, for one. I can’t let anything interfere with the case.

So why do I wish I had simply leaned in and kissed Janus myself in the doorway? Why do I feel such keening regret that I simply stood there and did nothing?

Today has shown me a whole new side to Janus—a part of him that I never knew existed—and I love it. I want to see more of it. I want to know more about what makes him Janus.

I already know what makes him The Jackal, after all, and though I’m very obviously attracted to that side of him, it’s the deeper connection to his more vulnerable, serious side that is the much more dangerous attraction.

I don’t know why I’m so surprised to discover that there’s more to Janus than meets the eye. It’s not as if I had known him for long enough in South Sudan to understand every aspect of him, after all.

It’s the same line I’ve thrown at him, too—that he doesn’t know me well enough to know I won’t back down.

When did I become so arrogant to assume that all there was to Janus was what he had allowed me to see thus far?

I sigh. I won’t make the same mistake again. Not when the consequences will invariably end up with me in bed with him.

I can’t mess up my career, not now. Not that love, or relationships in general, are completely off the cards for me. I trust myself to be able to balance my personal life and my career goals.

Just not with Janus. He’s stealing my thoughts, distracting me from the abject and senseless brutality of the people responsible for running this damn trafficking ring, simply by existing.

For a moment, I consider whether it was a mistake to seek his help, but in the same moment, I’m forced to acknowledge that I’d never have gotten this far if it wasn’t for Janus being The Jackal.

And we make a great team, we really do. A great business team.

Just because I’m fairly certain we’d make a wonderful personal team, too, doesn’t mean I should indulge such a belief. Our lives and goals are ultimately too different.

He’s a thief, after all. Compassionate or not, his life is shrouded in illegal and inherently selfish dealings, no matter the ‘gentleman’s code’ that he and his associates swear by.

And I’m an investigative journalist, hell-bent on uncovering the cruelty of the world. To be with Janus personally would be a perversion of my entire moral code.

And that’s more important to me than anything else.

I stand back up from my place on the floor, resolute.

I can withstand my ever-growing attraction to Janus O’Connell. There are people depending on it. My career is depending on it.

I can withstand it.

I have to.

So why don’t I believe a word I’m saying to myself?

Throwing myself onto my bed in frustration, I curse the fact that there’s no red wine left in the room.

I’ll just have the usher restock my room tomorrow. But for now, I should sleep.

I can’t help thinking of a particularly strenuous physical activity that would definitely send me straight to sleep upon completion, though.

“For fuck’s sake, Dani!” I shout up at the ceiling, infuriated.

I need to get Janus out of my head. And the only way I’ll be able to do that is to uncover the monsters responsible for this trafficking ring and bring them to justice.

Then I’ll never need to see Janus again. I’ll be free of him. I can finally get on with the rest of my life.

So why does that feel more like a punishment than a relief?

Sighing heavily, I roll onto my side, knowing full well that my head will remain full of conflicting thoughts until unconsciousness finally takes over.

I’m in for a very long night.