Epilogue
“Aren’t you done yet?”
Michelle glanced up as Ben’s petulant tone wafted from the doorway. She shot him a repentant smile. “Not yet.”
“And your incessant interruptions aren’t helping,” Titanium growled. He sat across from Michelle in the austere, mirrored debriefing room. A microphone sat between them on the metal table, pointed at her face. She’d been talking into it for hours, answering question after question.
When she’d finished relaying the pertinent details of Ralley’s plot and how he was connected to Babikov, Titanium, apparently being directed by someone speaking into his ear piece, had begun asking probing questions about ASTCORP.
She’d answered them all. Told them everything she knew. And it was a lot.
He was a large man, like Ben, but a platinum blond. He was intimidating as well, but the fact that he had a beautiful golden lab by his side throughout the interrogation made her trust him.
You could trust a man who loved dogs. You could trust a man dogs loved.
Ben leveled a glower on Titanium. “She deserves a break,” he grumbled.
Titanium snorted. “I want to get as much as I can while she’s fresh.”
Michelle barked a laugh.
It petered out when Titanium whipped his head back around to her. Pinning her with a sharp gaze wasn’t exactly accurate, since he wore wraparounds hiding his eyes, but he was attuned to her. Hyper-focused though she suspected he was blind. “What’s so funny?”
“While I’m fresh?” She tipped her head to the side and grinned. He didn’t seem to appreciate it.
“I’m not following.”
“23651.”
Titanium’s eyebrows disappeared behind his shades when he scowled.
Ben’s brow wrinkled.
“That was my zip code when I was five years old.”
More blank stares. Apparently this was not illuminating enough.
“More numbers? Okay. 4,435. 620,000. Sixty million.”
Ben glanced at Titanium completely baffled and then back at her.
“The estimated number of dead in the Revolutionary War, Civil War and World War II, respectively.” She fiddled with her water glass, spinning it around on the condensation beneath it. “And then, there’s my favorite number. 6.941.”
“What’s that?”
“Surprised you don’t know that one.” She shot an evil smile at Ben. “It’s the atomic weight of Lithium. It has a melting point of 180.54° Celsius and a boiling point of 1347. It has 3 protons and 4 neutrons and a cubic structure. Its atomic number is…3.” She turned her attention Titanium. “I learned that in a boring chemistry class when I was in junior high. ‘Tis in my memory lock’d.’ That’s Hamlet. Act one, scene three. Line…572. I read that in the 4th grade.”
“How do you—”
“Photographic memory. Total recall. So you see, the prospect of fresh memories is amusing.” They were always fresh.
The men gaped at her.
She batted her lashes. “It’s a curse. And, if you don’t mind…I am getting tired. And hungry.” And she could use a bath.
Besides which, she was starting to ache for Ben again. Hell, just seeing him made a hunger rise up within her. It had been far too long since she’d held him. Kissed him. Felt him moving inside her.
“Fine. She can have a break. We’ll keep her here, in the command center.”
Ben stiffened. “Sir, I thought she could come stay at my place.”
Titanium’s head whipped around and he scowled again. “What?”
Ben cleared his throat. “She can…stay with me.” Was there a thread of steel in his tone? It sent shivers down her spine.
Silence rippled through the room. Titanium drummed his fingers on the metal table. “Will she…get any sleep?”
“Some.” A pause. Ben shifted. “Maybe.”
The boss man turned his attention to her. “And you, young lady? Where would you like to stay?”
She couldn’t hold his gaze though he probably wasn’t seeing her at all. “I, ah…”
Ben stiffened as she dithered.
“I would like to stay with him, sir.” She didn’t know why she called him sir. He wasn’t her boss. And it really annoyed Ben. He might have growled, so she shot him a grin. Or a smirk.
Whatever it was, it didn’t help. Ben’s features tightened. His nostrils flared. His eyes got that look in them. His fingers curled as though he needed to keep his hand from smacking her ass. Or something.
Oh, lovely.
She pushed to her feet and stretched. Yawned widely. “Can we finish this tomorrow?”
“I don’t know,” Titanium said. “Can we?”
She shot him a curious glance.
“You seem to have a wealth of information. I want to make sure we get it all before you leave.”
Oh. Oh dear. The way Ben bristled captured her attention. The lab, who’d been quiet and well-behaved up until now, whined. “Leave? She’s not leaving.” A roar.
“Of course she is, Lithium. We have to get her into Witness Relocation. Where she’ll be safe.”
“She’s safe here. With me.”
Something in his tone touched her, stroked her. Soothed her. “You…you want me to stay?”
“Hell fucking yes.” He grabbed her and yanked her into his arms and kissed her. Hard. Harsh. As though he’d waited long enough. As though his boss weren’t in the room. Or he didn’t give a flying shit if he was.
It was a savage melding of mouths. A breath-stealer. A heart-stealer. When he lifted his head, he frowned at her. “That is, if you want to stay?” A question. And not.
“Stay with you?” She cupped his cheek.
“Stay with me.” A plea.
“I would love to stay with you.”
He stared at her, his eyes red-rimmed, his lips working. And then he pulled her close and kissed her again.
Titanium snorted. “Come on, Annie,” he said, motioning to the lab. “This will probably go on for a while.”
Michelle was barely aware they left the room.
Ben pulled back and kissed her forehead, then braced his against hers, staring into her eyes. “I don’t know what this is between us,” he said in a ragged voice. “I’ve never known love. But…”
“But?”
“But I think this may be it. I just don’t want you to leave. Cannot bear the thought of you leaving.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Do you…? Could you…? Do you think you could ever feel…like that for me?”
“Could I ever love you?”
“Could you?”
She stroked his cheek, thumbing the scars he wore like a badge. “Silly rabbit.” His brow darkened so she hurried to add, “I already do, George. I already do…”
He stared at her in silence as myriad emotions rippled over his features. Surprise, gratitude, devotion. She steeped in it. Steeped in the moment.
Then his expression firmed into something she now recognized and welcomed. The rumble of his growl sent excitement and anticipation whipping through her. “What did I tell you about calling me George?” he asked in a harsh voice. His lips hardly quirked at all.
Oh, she remembered. She remembered just fine. Her ass trembled at the memory of his palm. “Was that supposed to be some kind of deterrent…George?”
His gaze heated and a wild and hungry wind whipped between them. “I’m warning you.”
She put out a lip. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He made a sound, the howl of a wounded beast. “Jesus, Michelle. You’re killing me.”
Killing him? Hell, this verbal intercourse was killing her. “Let’s find somewhere private. How far is it to your place?”
“Not far.”
“Thank God.” She shot him a tremulous grin.
“Ah. Michelle.” He yanked her hard against him once more, but this time, his kiss was gentle. So gentle. A gentleness that brought tears to her eyes.
“You’re mine. Mine. Do you understand?” A savage declaration.
She smiled. Her heart filled to the brim and overflowed. It was a glorious feeling. “I do,” she said. “I am.”
And, without warning, he whipped her into his arms and stormed from the room.