Faith
The Fallhurst Institute is tucked away in the Santa Barbara hills. It’s designed to look nondescript, at least from the outside. There are no barbed wire fences or armed patrols warning people off the land. The single, tasteful sign is painted in a harmless blue and white. At the front desk, two smartly dressed receptionists wear headsets and offer professional smiles to anyone who strolls in, and the two bodyguards patrolling the large foyer carry their weapons discreetly.
But the moment you enter the elevator, you know you’re not in Kansas anymore.
We hold still for the infrared body scan before Killian slides a silver keycard through a slot and punches a code in the panel where the elevator floor numbers are displayed. The doors close, and the smooth descent into the bowels of the earth begins. There is no LED display to tell us how many floors we’ve navigated, and a slight feeling of claustrophobia creeps over me.
He looks over at me. His eyes are warm but his smile is tense. “You okay?”
I attempt a smile back despite my own tension. “That cave in Iceland sounds great right about now.”
He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Just say the word, baby.”
My heart fills to bursting. Then dips beneath the weight of my secrets. “It’s been three days, and you haven’t asked me about Cairo. Why I let Fionnella help me.”
His hand drops. His body goes rigid, and he faces forward. After a moment, he gives a self-deprecating laugh. “You wanna know why? Because I’m fucking terrified.”
My eyes widen. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re one of the toughest people I know. And if you’re having a hard time telling me why you left me, then it’s something big. I thought I could face anything. But the thought of losing you once you confess is killing me. So I’m choosing to bury my head in the sand for now.”
My mouth drops open, his explanation making such sense to me that I want to hug him. Then I want to beg for forgiveness on my knees for what I’m doing to us. What I can’t undo right this minute in this cold, clandestine place. Because the elevators doors are opening, and a tall, thin man with sharp hazel eyes is waiting for us. His clothes are bigger than his frame and his pallor screams low-level analyst hunched twenty-three hours over a computer.
“Mr. Knight. Miss Carson. Welcome back to the Fallhurst Institute. My name is Scot Scarsdale.”
I have no idea who he is, but I nod in response.
We walk down a series of slate-colored corridors with closed doors on either side until we reach the last door on the right. “Your assessment consultant is waiting inside for you, Miss Carson. Mr. Knight…would you like to come with me?”
“No,” he says.
Scot frowns. “You can’t go in there with her.”
“Then bring me a chair. I’ll wait out here.”
“Uh…I don’t think that’s protocol.”
“Fuck protocol. Is Fionnella Smith here?” Killian snaps, his eyes narrowing mercilessly on the increasingly uncomfortable-looking man.
Scot’s frown deepens. “Who?”
Right. Of course he has no idea who we’re talking about.
Killian’s jaw tightens. “A chair. That’s all I need. Now, Scot.”
“I’ll have to speak to my supervisor—”
The door behind us opens. The redhead is drop-dead gorgeous, right down to the superbright gray eyes, long lashes, and the twin dimples that appears in her cheeks when she spots Killian and smiles.
“Killian…Mr. Knight. This is an unexpected pleasure.” She glides past me, her pencil skirt swishing silkily, and holds out her hand in greeting.
Killian’s look of surprise turns into a smile. “Lisa, what are you doing here?”
“I was called in on a case.” Her gaze shifts to me, reluctantly. “I’m guessing you’re my nine o’clock?” she asks with a perfectly plucked, raised eyebrow.
My nod is jerky and cold. I can’t help it. She reminds me of Heather Jane Fitzgerald with her fake warmth, perfect teeth, and boyfriend-stealing body. “I’m Faith Carson. You must be Mrs. Channing.”
“It’s Miss. I’m single,” she adds. While staring right at Killian. I want to punch her in the face. After a moment, she lowers her gaze demurely. “Come on in, please.” She stands aside to let me in and then immediately turns to Killian. “Can I help with anything?”
I’m expecting him to repeat his request for a chair. Instead he shakes his head. “Scot was just about to escort me to level seventeen, weren’t you?”
Scot runs a shaky finger inside his collar. “Uh…I’m only allowed up to level ten.”
Killian holds up his keycard. “Luckily, I am. Just point me in the right direction. All these corridors look the same to me.”
“Yes, of course. I can do that. Right this way, sir.”
“Good to see you again, Lisa,” Killian says with a nod and a smile.
“You too. I’ll be here all day. Feel free to stop by.” She points to a small light bulb at the top of her door. “If that’s red, it means I have someone in with me. If not, I’m wide open.”
I bet you are.
“I might just do that,” he replies. I stare in astonishment as he walks off without a second glance at me.
I’m still reeling when she shuts the door behind her and turns to me. “Miss Carson, please take a seat. According to my notes, you’ve been…away for four years? Make yourself comfortable. We have a lot to get through.”
For the next three hours, she probes every inch of my first and second assignments with the agency, jotting down my reactions and responses when I was under pressure.
“Why are you taking notes?”
She looks surprised. “For assessment of your fitness for future missions, of course.”
Right. She doesn’t know I’m quitting. “Okay.”
Her smile is quick and tight, not slow and seductive like the one she gave Killian. I shift in my seat when another arrow of jealousy lances me.
At midday, she calls a halt to the interrogation. I can’t leave her office fast enough. Scot is on his own when I exit Lisa Channing’s office. He escorts me into the lobby and hurries away as Killian straightens from the pillar he was leaning on and crosses to me.
We walk outside in silence and get into the SUV we drove in.
“Why did you just leave me there?” I blurt even though I swore somewhere between the second and third hours of my assessment that I wasn’t going to acknowledge it.
He reaches over and takes my hand, drawing it into his lap. “Because I know the way she operates. Any sign of something between us and it would’ve meant another day’s probing questions.”
I frown. “But doesn’t she already know about us?”
“She knows I had a thing with the Widow. She’ll probably figure it out eventually, but I wanted to save you the hassle. I want you to be done with her and the whole damn place as soon as possible. Okay?” He raises my hand and kisses my knuckle.
As an explanation, it’s pretty decent. And yet…
I’m still seething by the time we roll through the gates of the Malibu mansion. Dinner consists of scrumptious quesadillas prepared by Debbie and a bottle of chilled white wine. But my appetite is nil.
I give up halfway through, and I toss my napkin on the table. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Want some company?”
I shrug. He joins me anyway. Works magic on me with his hands and mouth. By the time we leave the shower, my mood has improved.
Except the next day is just as bad, and the day after is worse. For starters, I go to Lisa Channing’s office alone after Killian disappears with Scot the moment the elevator doors open.
The moment I sit down, she starts grilling me about Cairo, and specifically about Killian. About how long we were involved. I’m waiting for the question on how long we fucked, each time we fucked, when the door opens and the subject of my interrogation for the last four hours walks in.
Lisa jumps to her feet, her dimples making an appearance despite the slightly puzzled look on her face. “Killian…hi…umm, we weren’t quite done.”
“Really? My apologies, I must have gotten my wires crossed. The light outside your door was off.”
Her eyes widen. “Was it?” She struts a little too close, her arm brushing his when she walks past him to peer at the light. “That’s so weird. I didn’t turn it off.”
He shrugs, his gaze resting on me.
Lisa walks back into the office, her hands gliding over her lean hips in a subtle move that draws attention to her assets. “Well, seeing as we were at a natural break, Miss Carson, I think we’ll leave it here for today.”
I stand up and grab my purse. “Great. Cannot wait for tomorrow.” The snark in my voice is hard to contain. I head for the door before I do something unfortunate. Like shoving the cactus sitting on her desk somewhere very painful.
“See you around, Lisa,” Killian says.
“Oh, I thought you came to see me?”
I grit my teeth and tell myself to keep moving. But I can’t help it. I swivel to watch Killian.
“I came to escort Faith back upstairs.”
Lisa’s gaze darts to me for a moment before she raises an eyebrow at Killian. “You two came together?”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “Yes.” He leaves it at that.
Lisa stares at him for a long moment before she smiles. “Next time, then.”
“Sure thing.”
I contain myself until we’re in the elevator.
“Sure thing?”
His hands leave his pockets, and he crowds me into one corner of the small space. “I came to save you. Don’t I get any credit?”
“No,” I snap. God, I hate being jealous. I hate the nastiness it spikes through my bloodstream. I shake my head. “Sure thing,” I spit again. “She was questioning my motives and my ethics. Can you believe her?”
He lowers his head. “Sorry, baby.”
I pull away. “So, is she a genuine redhead?”
His eyebrows knot for a couple of seconds before his eyes widen. Then he laughs.
“Fuck you.”
His laughter deepens. “You’re jealous.”
“Fuck you.”
He stops laughing and pushes his groin against me. “Not in the elevator, baby. We don’t have enough time.”
“I’m glad you find all this hilarious.”
“God, I can’t wait to get you in the car.”
“Nothing is going to happen in the car.”
He slides his middle finger into his mouth in a shockingly sexy, slow lick that immediately drenches my panties. Then he holds it in front of my face. “This finger is going into your pussy the moment we’re in the car. You can clench that tight cunt around it while you ask me your questions.”
My breath snags in my lungs. We’re the most real with each other when all the bullshit is stripped away. And sex is the most effective way to go about doing that.
“Or you could just answer the question now?”
He lowers the hand that promises pleasure, and my mood plummets with it. “I ought to spank the shit out of you for even suggesting that I’d fuck my shrink.”
“Because you draw the line at sleeping with your coworkers?”
“You will forever be my one exception. The only woman for me. How many times do I need to repeat that?” There’s an edge of exasperation in his tone.
“She’s clearly hot for you,” I say, and hate myself for my inability to leave the subject alone.
I don’t know what I expect him to say to that, but the elevator reaches the ground floor, and we step out. His hand slides around my waist, uncaring of the glances we attract as we walk through the foyer to the limo idling at the curb. Killian chose not to drive today after traffic delayed us getting home yesterday. Instead we flew by helicopter halfway and Mitch drove us the rest of the way.
I get in the back and shift to the far side, noting that the partition between us and the front seat is up. Killian dives in after me and grabs me the moment the door shuts. A second later, we’re sprawled across the seat. “Where were we?”
“Nowhere,” I blurt.
He holds his finger against my pursed lower lip. “Open.”
“No.”
“Jesus. Your stubbornness is a huge turn-on, I give you that. But goddammit, we’ll be at the chopper in fifteen minutes, so maybe shelve the attitude for now and let me make you come? You can fight with me some more when we get home.”
“I don’t—” The rest of my words are lost when he reaches under my dress, yanks my panties aside, and rams his finger inside my disgustingly wet pussy.
He exhales harshly, and his head drops against my neck. “God, I knew you’d be wet,” he says.
“No, you didn’t.”
“You think I don’t know this body? That I don’t know what makes you sigh and what makes you scream?” He crooks his finger, and pleasure blazes through me.
“Ahhh…”
“I love that you’re jealous, baby, but I don’t want you twisted to the point where it comes between us. Got it?”
I grit my teeth and stay silent.
He adds another finger, doubling the pleasure, but then stills. “I need an answer, beautiful. ‘Yes, Killian,’ will be fine.”
When I attempt to shift my hips, he uses his body to restrain me. My frustrated growl draws a laugh. “Now, Faith. And look at me when you say it.”
I slowly open my eyes and meet his cobalt blues. And fall deeper in love. “Yes, Killian!”
His blinding smile stays with me all through the fantastic orgasm that he gifts me.
Which is a good thing to have in my memory bank. Because only less than a day later, my world turns a darker shade of gray.