Chapter 13
That was it. Xander slumped. And he’d never been so sorry to be right in his entire, miserable life.
Silence thickened the air as he stared into Charlie’s eyes, but it wasn’t like she needed to say anything. Given the spark of recognition in her gaze, the defiant way she boosted her chin, he’d just nailed the reason behind why she’d wanted to help Ellis without even asking.
Dammit. Tension crawled into his shoulders, his stomach cramped as if he’d taken a hard jab to the gut.
It was easy enough to buy a ticket on where that train of thought had led her. But coming to grips with how he’d contributed to her pain sickened him worse than any guilt or regret he’d lugged behind him the past ten years. “Danny’s death wasn’t your fault, Charlie.”
When it came to assigning blame for the bullshit she’d faced since leaving Malcolm’s, Xander was the only asshole who’d earned that nametag. “There was nothing you could’ve done to change what happened. I know it and so did Danny.”
She crossed her arms, her defensive stance coming off harder to crack than the steel bunker surrounding her heart. “But that’s just it. I don’t know that, Xander. I’ll never know if I could’ve saved him because I wasn’t strong enough to find out.”
The bitter certainty in her eyes couldn’t have done a better job of killing him had she tossed his heart to the floor and stabbed it to death by stomping out a Flamenco in her three-inch heels. But no matter how much he deserved to be the punching bag for the way her life had unfolded, dwelling on what could’ve been…what should’ve been…wasn’t the point.
Four days they’d been together. Four days and, as of fifteen minutes ago, he’d been no closer to deciphering why a bunch of assholes were after her than that first night she’d found him waiting on her doorstep.
Yes, that picture of her brother had brought back a nightmare. A time in her life he would’ve given anything to erase. But he couldn’t stand here and ignore how it had also finally gotten her to open up, fill in some of the blanks. Not if he wanted to protect her and make sure nothing ever came between them again.
Over everything else, he needed to keep her talking. Find a way to prop open the floodgates so he could tie up the loose ends in a cohesive picture that made sense.
His laptop binged, and he spun toward Malcolm’s desk, rounded the couch and uploaded the results to his private server. Thank God, at least that was one thing in his favor. No matter what came next, the FBI database was finally his for the taking.
A subtle memory tapped on his brain, and he hesitated. Swinging back toward the room, he narrowed his gaze as another piece shifted into place.
The one he hadn’t been able to nail down since the very beginning. He fisted his hands. And the one he’d sworn not to touch unless Charlie gave him permission.
“Look, I get it.” He glanced at her and then jammed his thumb and index finger into his eye sockets to scrub away the gut-fisting agony etched on her face. Even if she somehow found it in her heart to forgive him, he’d damn sure never forgive himself. “Better than you can imagine, I get how you want to blame yourself for what happened. God knows, if offered the chance, I’ll happily fight with you about it for the rest our lives.” Dropping his hand, Xander met her eyes regardless of how hard it was to stare at the misery he’d created. “But no amount of guilt is gonna solve the problem we’re dealing with right now. Today. Someone is still looking to take you out, Chuck. And no matter how much digging I do, I keep hitting a dead end. Now, goddamn it, what aren’t you telling me?”
She flinched as if his words had smacked her across the face, and rage knuckled his breastbone so hard Xander gritted his teeth through the sting.
Ten minutes. He’d give his right arm for just ten minutes alone with the abusive prick who’d made her doubt whether or not she could trust him. For five seconds with a younger version of himself, so he could crack the idiot upside the head and lay out how badly his mistakes would circle back to bite him in the ass.
Hell, at this point, he was even ready to slam dunk the entire world for making her believe she was anything less than the beautiful woman standing two feet in front of him.
Understanding schooled her features into a calculating squint. Toe tapping, she crossed her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek.
His heart thudded against his ribcage, but he cocked a brow and kept his big trap shut. No. He’d be good and goddamned before he gave in. As of this moment, they were pushing through whatever insecurities made her second-guess his commitment.
“Fine.” She spat the word with a toss of her head, whirled on her toe and stormed out the door.
His eyebrows inched up his forehead, but he stood silent, his focus trained on the empty doorway.
Great. He tossed his hand in the air. Even a guy in his limited experience knew when a woman said fine like that, he’d successfully parked his ass under a Danger: Blasting Zone sign.
Shaking his head, he strode through the door toward the living room. Jesus, was it any wonder some men drank? In that moment, if someone had handed him a bottle, even he would’ve taken a swig.
He caught sight of her digging through their luggage in the front hall and hauled up short, hedging his bets he’d be better off giving her some space. And on the off chance she’d managed to smuggle a loaded Ruger through airport security.
“You wanna solve the riddle of why someone’s been following me? Be my guest.” She snatched her carry-on from beside the stairs, marched into the living room and up-ended the entire bag onto the couch.
Frowning, Xander leaned forward on his toes and peered past the cushions toward the seat. Mixed in with several pairs of shoes, a blow dryer, curling iron and a bunch of other goofy stuff women always thought mandatory they lug along on a trip, lay her MSi Workstation laptop.
Unease trickled down his spine, and he slammed on the brakes, throwing the gears into reverse in his head. Sure, that was the exact piece he’d been after. Why she had it and what information it contained. But the last time he’d seen the damn thing was the night she’d carted it off to her bathroom.
He ran his hand around the back of his neck, scratching at the short hair by his nape. He’d assumed it had been destroyed with everything else during the break-in, and for some odd reason, the fact she’d brought it along on their trip seemed…not good.
“Might as well get this over with.” She whisked a brush out of the way and grabbed the device, untangling the cord from a thick stretchy belt. Rummaging through the rest of her things, she plucked a portable drive from a crease in the cushions, smacked it on top, and shoved the whole works in his direction. “All my dirty little secrets are now yours. Happy?”
Well…yeah, he was happy. He glanced from the computer to her face. Too bad he appeared to be flying solo in his enthusiasm. From the glint of frustration in her eyes, handing over that laptop ranked a close second to telling him how much she weighed.
“What?” The cord rattled across the top as she shook the device. “Already having second thoughts?”
“No.” He stared into her eyes. “Never.”
“Then take it, Xander.” She prodded his chest with the back corner. “Take it and make whatever judgment calls you want.”
Judgment calls, huh? He slipped the items from her hands, strode to the wingback chair beside the fireplace and jammed the plug into the outlet near the leg. That seemed kinda harsh, considering she was as close to perfection as any woman could get.
Flipping open the screen, he tapped the power button, then stepped around the chair and dropped to the seat, knees spread and the keyboard balanced on his thighs.
Charlie paced the length of the couch as he waited for the desktop to load. A flash, and the icons winked down the left-hand side, and he braced his elbows on the arms of the chair to scan the manufacturer’s pre-loaded programs.
Yeah, and? He peeked at her over the screen before giving the icons another once-over. At first glance, nothing out of the ordinary. He opened the browser and tapped the search history. A big fat zilch, which matched square with how she’d said the laptop was brand new.
The same analytical hunch he got with every job settled over his skin as he slipped the lid off the flash drive and fed the end into the USB port. A window popped open, and he dragged the cursor over to boot up the only file listed on the drive.
Whoa. His spine hit the back of the chair. What the hell was this?
He scrolled through the document, down then back up. Some sort of chemical formula? For what? And even better, why would Charlie have something so screwy in her possession?
An image of her panic-stricken face drifted into focus. The night he’d asked what she thought of the DDR slots installed on the laptop. She’d had no clue what he meant. And unless she’d spent the last ten years getting an advanced degree in microbiology, he was betting he’d get the same flustered response if he asked what the formula created.
But none of that added up. Why would she shell out nearly five grand to generate something so complex, only to not have the first clue of the laptop’s RAM capabilities?
Instinct kicked in and his stomach plummeted.
She wouldn’t.
Not his Charlie.
Springing forward, he tapped the start button and clicked through the windows to locate the laptop’s registered owner. Fingers flying, he gritted his teeth.
For the love of Christ, someone please tell him this wasn’t as bad as he thought.
But it was.
He opened a dropdown box and bypassed the software prompts to bring up an edit string. The Charlie he knew played it safe. Erred on the side of caution. Which meant she’d had no choice. It was either hide the laptop someplace no one would ever be able to find it or leave herself vulnerable. Open to all sorts of danger.
He jabbed enter.
Thomas Ryan.
The CEO of RyaMed Pharmaceuticals? Xander scowled. Last he’d heard, that greedy prick had made the big-time by locking down the propriety rights to some new drug he’d developed, all while charging a small fortune to treat kids with childhood leukem—
He jackknifed to his feet.
Sweet Jesus. Every question that had been cycling through his brain shuffled into the proper sequence and clicked home, but that didn’t make the outcome any better.
Messing with a guy like Ryan… Xander breathed through the dread threatening to level his chest.
Charlie would’ve been better off stealing from the mob.
She stopped near the end of the couch and met his gaze. “I couldn’t let him get away with it, Xander. I couldn’t sit there and watch Ellis die while that bastard flaunted his money like he’d never done anything wrong.”
Her knuckles whitened in the tight grip she held on the cushions. Tears filled her eyes, and the laptop bowed under his fingers as those beautiful blue orbs glittered like two brittle shards of stained-glass. “Not after Danny. Not after hearing how much LZR-7 could help Ellis.” Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath. “So I waited until Ryan left on vacation and broke into his condo, three times during the week he was gone, taking whatever I could fence for the biggest payout so I could make sure Ellis got his medication.”
Son of a bitch. The money she’d given Lydia.
Every muscle in his body tensed, and at the same time the respect he’d always held for her plowed through his body on a wave of adrenaline that pinged in his ears.
His hand to God, the woman was enough to make a sane man drop to his knees and spout every dark sin he’d ever committed.
What she’d done for Ellis, risking everything to save that little boy’s life…
She wasn’t just a guardian angel.
Charlie McGovern was a goddamned saint.
“As for who’s after me, I honestly have no idea.” She tossed her hands in the air and they hit the back of the couch with a slap. “Not sure about you but, to me, Ryan doesn’t seem like the type who would want to get his hands dirty, regardless of how many crooked politicians he’s paid off. I mean, think about it, Xander.” Stepping forward, she pointed toward the front door. “He’s got too much at stake to get caught messing with someone like me. If he knows I stole the laptop, why not just call the police and have me arrested? Or better yet, why not simply write it down again? If he’s the one who created the formula, what’s stopping him from releasing it like he originally planned?”
A brilliant saint who’d thought through every angle to the most logical conclusion. Xander squinted. But whatever Ryan’s plan, he wasn’t about to dismiss the obvious. Not after Charlie had gone the distance to help her friend.
From the very beginning, the only thing she’d wanted was to set the scales back in balance. To follow protocol the way she’d been trained and give Ellis the fair shot he deserved. And if his curvy blond goddess had decided her best bet was to head straight for the source, then who was he or anyone else to argue her methods?
“Could be the Feds, I guess.” She nodded toward the forgotten laptop in his hands. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have that preemptive strike in their back pocket. Stop Ryan cold before he has another chance to flood the market with whatever he’s got up his sleeve.”
Right again. Xander glanced at the screen, backed out of the windows and shut down the device. Which meant their first priority was to secure the proof someplace safe, exactly like she had to begin with, followed by Xander placing a long overdue call to his contact at the Justice Department.
He removed the drive and yanked the plug from the wall, winding up the cord as he retraced his steps into Malcolm’s office. Until they could figure out Ryan’s hold up, possibly get a set of expert eyes on the formula to determine what it contained, it was critical everything they had be locked down tight. Someplace close enough for easy access, yet available to only those select few he and Charlie could trust.
Good thing Xander had just the place.
He hit the office and skirted the desk for the far-left corner, flipped back the frame on Malcolm’s stamp-sized Renoir and punched the seven digits into the keypad.
And as for the FBI? Xander smirked. If those suited pricks had been tracking Charlie, they’d better be ready to cough up a damn good reason for the tail. If not, their anti-cyber terrorism task force was about to experience an act of hacktivism the likes of which would make their eyes bleed.
The concealed door to Malcolm’s safe room retracted from the wall with an audible hiss, and Xander dipped his chin. Good. He swung the door back and entered, centering the laptop on the metal counter running the length of the room.
No one within the city limits knew of this location, and no one ever would. Force of habit had him flicking on the bank of six monitors pre-set to record any activity picked up by the surveillance cameras around the property. Not without getting through him first.
“So, that’s it then?”
He glanced over his shoulder to find Charlie standing near the side of Malcolm’s desk, arms crossed and one of her eyebrows raised in a death glare. “You’re taking over without a single word, huh? Happy to pat me on the head and send me packing.”
Jerking upright, he scowled at her through the door. “What are you talking about?”
“Stop it.” She flipped up a big ol’ talk to the hand. “You know exactly what I mean so just stop. I told you from the beginning I wouldn’t stand for being left out. That we were in this together and you’d need to discuss everything with me before making a move.” She aimed a sharp finger at the ground. “Well, that sure got flushed straight down the crapper. I mean, come on, Xander. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you changed your mind? That I hadn’t called this very thing would happen? Backing out of our friendship is one thing, but this?” She recrossed her arms with a hard bounce. “I expected more than to be shoved aside. Especially from you. Goddamn it, we had an agreement.”
He screwed up his face in a grimace. Changed his mind about what? And what the hell did she mean, backing out of their friendship? He’d never said any such thing.
In fact, he hadn’t said anything since…
He slumped, but that didn’t stop him from hitting rewind and replaying the last few minutes through her eyes.
Dammit, the woman had him dead to rights. And the really awesome part? God, the irony was so thick, he nearly laughed.
She wouldn’t have been anywhere near as upset unless she cared. And worried, somewhere deep inside, he was about to break her heart.
Jesus, would he never learn? All these years, and he was still standing silent in the sidelines, watching as her world fell apart, making the same stupid mistakes he had as a kid. “You misunderstood. I’m not sending you anywhere. And I’m sure as shit not shoving you aside.”
“Then say something!” She held her arms to the sides, but the crushing hurt on her face told the real story. Even though she probably would’ve chosen a slow torturous death over admitting how scared she was. “God, Xander, give me at least one thing to hold on to that makes sense.”
But never again.
He threw the portable drive down on the laptop and left the safe room, swinging the door closed behind him. Once he got them through this, he was never keeping secrets from her again.
Three long strides to the desk, and he scooped her into his arms. “You want something to hold on to?” She smacked her palms against his chest, but he didn’t care. “Something that makes sense?” Holding her cheek, he urged her close and brought his forehead to hers. “In all the pain from our past, whatever bullshit life might toss into our future, out of everything we’ve been through, the two of us together is the one thing that makes sense.” Her eyes softened near the corners. A tear tumbled over her lashes, and slipped past the tip of his thumb. “So if you’re looking for something to hold on to, you hold on to me. Hold on tight, beautiful. Because I don’t ever plan on letting go.”
Her arms circled his shoulders. Her full breasts met his chest. Fingers tangling in her hair, he angled her head and closed in.
But she got there faster, and he jolted on his heels as her sweet, soft lips captured his.
Holy hell. Did the woman have any idea what she’d just done?
Her sultry flavor detonated across his taste buds as he sipped and nibbled, meeting each hungry stroke of her tongue. A whimper caught in her throat, and something between a euphoric high and full-blown ecstasy flooded every nerve-ending on his skin.
She’d kissed him first.
Reaching behind her, he shoved whatever met his hands off the desk.
A real kiss that didn’t have anything to do with faking someone out or causing a distraction.
Leather hit his palm, and a cup of pens clattered and sailed through the air. A sweep of his arm, and the desk lamp tipped off-kilter, somersaulting to the rug with a metal clang.
A kiss that matched his urgency to be buried balls deep inside her, filled with the same gut-fisting pull he’d kept hidden away to stay with her the rest of his life.
Plastic hit the ground with a loud crack, and Charlie flinched, breaking off from him mid-lick. “Oh, shit.”
No. His growl warmed the air between them as he grabbed the side of her neck and brought her back to his lips. Her muffled squeak of surprise faded into the quiet as she tangled her tongue with his.
Grabbing her knee, he wrapped her leg around his hip and hitched her onto the desk. “Um, I think we broke your laptop.”
“Fuck it. I’ll buy a new one.” He skimmed a kiss down her neck and her head fell back. A moan slipped from her throat as he drove against the warm giving cradle of her sex.
Christ, the woman redefined the meaning of lust. He drove against her a second time, pressing deep as she shimmed back and forth. Moisture darkened the thin strip between her legs, and he groaned as her heat doused the pulsing head of his cock.
Every craving he’d denied himself, every tendency he’d kept suppressed was nothing compared to the way she writhed against him.
One hand bracing the small of her back, he lowered her to the blotter and slipped the buttons running down the center of her chest.
Warm. He palmed her breasts, fingers curled to cup their full weight. So fucking perfect. She locked her calves around his thighs and he widened his stance, wanting her spread for him. Open and ready. She wriggled up and down the side of his cock and his ass clenched as the scent of her arousal unfurled in the room.
Jesus, he was never going to last. He swept her tight nipples with his thumbs. Leaned down to taste that soft skin. Sucking and licking, he flicked the pointed tip with his tongue.
Her spine bowed off the desk. The angle forced her harder against him and a dangerous pressure built at the base of his spine. His thighs tensed, balls heavy and tight. Traveling her belly with his fingertips, he eased his hand under the elastic and brushed a slow circle over the distended nub jutting from her folds.
She gasped and he bit back a curse as she bucked, seizing his wrist. He slid his index finger along her damp heat and she whimpered and squirmed, thrusting into his touch.
Dammit, there was no way he could walk away from her. He ground his molars as his cock flexed, the skin so damn tight a mounting surge prepped for release. Not with every synapse begging him to sink and pump inside her until he’d eased the hot ache.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He stroked and tapped. A shudder wound through her body, and he mentally kicked his own ass for pulling the biggest bone-headed move in history. “But shit, Charlie. I left the condoms upstairs.”
She slowed. One of her hands coasted down his back. Her legs fell from around his thighs, and he grunted as the ticklish sweep of her fingers slipped around his ribs to tug the drawstring of his sleeping pants.
Frowning, he pushed up from the desk. The cotton crept down his legs, and he hissed as his cock sprang into the air, the cold air rushing his over-heated skin.
“You don’t need one.” Hooking her thumbs on the top edge of her panties, she bent one knee and shoved them past her ankles. “I’m clean, Xander, and on the Pill.”
His brow twitched as the repercussions of that statement penetrated the haze of his need with all the concrete-busting finesse of a wrecking ball.
“Believe it or not, I trust you.” She reached between them and a moan heaved up from the pit of his stomach as her nimble fingers centered him at the doorway to heaven. Her wet folds nestled the head of his cock, and he fisted his hands against the demanding urge to plunge deep.
“With more than just my secrets.” A clever smile hinted at her lips. “And even if you haven’t told me yours.”
Christ in Heaven, give him strength.
He searched her face, so damn keyed up that shimmer in her eyes was lost on him. But he wasn’t far gone enough to miss what she meant.
She knew.
He gradually came forward, forearm braced over her shoulder, the tension in her sex like a slick band sliding down his cock. A shiver wracked her body, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head as the after-shocks vibrated straight into his shaft.
Shit, she was the perfect fit. Slippery and giving. The rush of skin on skin contact better than any buzz known to man.
She bit her bottom lip as he sank another blessed inch. Ecstasy throbbed through his engorged veins as she clutched his ass and eased him all the way home.
Heat doused his skin, his chest rumbling as any misguided concept he’d had of love was blown to hell and back. It was anyone’s guess when she’d realized he was keeping his own damn secrets but, to her, his silence didn’t matter.
She’d still offered him everything she had.
For no other reason than because he’d asked.
Jamming one hand under her waist, he wrenched her to his chest and drank in the generous sweep of her mouth. The woman owned him in a way that didn’t make sense.
Her internal walls grew tight, and he rotated his hips, stretching her to fill every inch. Sink as deep as possible. The head of his cock bumped resistance, and he groaned as she clamped down like a vise, her silky sex milking him from rim to base.
Each time he thought he’d fallen for her as hard as he could, she somehow proved he didn’t have the first fucking clue.
Fingers gripping the top of her shoulder, he withdrew and rammed them together. Wriggling and panting, she dug her heels into his ass and he gritted his teeth, holding on to let her ride him as long as she wanted.
A roar built in his ears. Spasms rippled down his cock. The last of his restraint snapped, and he threw his head back as his orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Her ass rose off the desk, and he pumped into her. Again and again. Stroking faster and harder until she convulsed and went rigid in his arms.
Love? Collapsing forward, he covered her with his body, kissing her lips, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. A weak chuckle worked through her chest, but she kept her arms draped around his neck, combing her nails through his hair. She was more to him than that word could ever mean. So much more that love barely scratched the surface.
She was his addiction. A high that kept him jonesing.
And a sweet, sweet habit he never planned to quit.