Chapter Six
Nate hated hospitals.
Everything about them: the stink of antiseptic, the hushed voices, the white walls and air of depression. And he’d been in them far too frequently over the last couple of years.
His father had a private room off the main ward. At first Nate thought he was sleeping; his eyes were closed, but he opened them as Nate approached the bed. He was hooked up to a morphine drip, but for the first time since he’d been admitted, his eyes were clear.
Nate was past the grief stage. He’d done that when his father had first been diagnosed and given the news it was terminal, and there was very little they could do. Now part of him just wanted it over, for his father’s pain to end.
He dragged up a chair and sat by the bed. “Hey, Dad.”
“Nate. How’s things? How’s Trixie?”
“She’s good. A friend’s looking after her today.”
“A girlfriend?”
He had a flash image of Regan up against the door in the alley last night. But he really didn’t want to get into discussions about Regan with his dad—he would not understand. Hell, Nate didn’t understand. “Just a friend.”
They chatted about the job for a while, but his dad tired easily, and after the first few minutes, they sat in silence.
“She fancies you,” his dad said, not very quietly, as one of the nurses moved about the room, straightening things, recording notes on his dad’s chart. She was a pretty blonde with pale skin that flushed pink at his father’s not-very-subtle comment. She cast Nate a quick look and hurried out of the room.
Nate grinned. “Way to go, Dad.”
“You should ask her out.”
“She’s not my type.” No, he preferred brunettes with attitude. Go figure.
“You have a type? I never would have guessed it. When was the last time you went on a date?”
He couldn’t remember and just shook his head.
“You need to get a life, son.”
“You once told me that the job was your life, that there wasn’t room for anything else.”
“Yeah, and look where that got me. Alone.”
“Hey, I’m here.”
His dad winced, reached out, and pressed the button that would flood his system with morphine. “You’re a good detective.”
Was he? He wasn’t so sure anymore.
At the same time, a detective was all he’d ever wanted to be. He couldn’t imagine any other life. And he still loved the actual detective work, loved the moment when a case came together. He got enormous satisfaction from seeing the guilty punished. Except for Regan. That was one case he would have preferred to have lost. But she’d been guilty as hell.
“You’ve turned into a hard man, son.” His dad interrupted his thoughts. “Unforgiving. You see everything in black and white. Good or bad.”
“That’s what you taught me. You’re either for the law or you’re against it.”
“Well, maybe I was wrong.”
Fuck. He would never have thought the old man would admit he was wrong. And Nate didn’t believe it anyway. Those principles were too ingrained in his system.
“I just don’t want you to end up a lonely old man like your dad.” He coughed, and Nate waited while he pulled himself together. “Okay, enough philosophy. Tell me something good. Cheer me up.”
Christ. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of something “good.” Another image of Regan flashed up in his mind, lying beneath him in that big bed in the Ritz, her face flushed with pleasure, her eyes sleepy and sated. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to tell his dad. It wasn’t as though the two of them would meet.
“Actually, there is a woman.”
“You’re kidding me.”
He grinned at the surprise in his dad’s voice. “I’m seeing her tonight.”
“Serious?”
“No, not serious. It’s way too soon for serious. But I like her.”
“You like her—well, holy hell. And does she like you?”
He wasn’t sure. Sometimes he was pretty sure she hated him. But she did like the way he made her feel. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something special between them. He’d never felt like that with a woman before. In the past, he’d enjoyed sex. But what he experienced with Regan went way beyond that, however much he tried to tell himself that it was just physical attraction, that it would burn out in time. It didn’t actually matter if she liked him or not. But he wanted her to—if only because it meant she’d give him the sex he craved so badly.
Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe he should just stay away. But he didn’t think that was an option now.
“You’re thinking way too much.”
He glanced up. “I hope she likes me.”
“You’ll have to bring her to visit.”
Never going to happen.
“I’ll see how tonight goes. It’s our first date.”
He hoped he wasn’t going to get questioned further. He hated to lie to his dad, but he really didn’t think the truth would make his old man happy. However much he wanted Nate to get a woman, he’d see him associating with an ex-con—one who was on parole, and whose case Nate had led—as totally unprofessional. And he’d be right. And this was hardly a normal relationship—as much sex as they could get for one month and no longer. There was zero chance of a happy ever after.
But his father’s eyelids were drooping as the morphine kicked in, and he didn’t speak again. Nate waited until he was sleeping, then got up quietly and left.
He nodded to the pretty nurse as he passed and then got the hell out of there.
…
He’d offered to pick her up, but she’d put him off that idea pretty quickly. It was late; he’d had to go down to Surrey to question a witness on a case he was working and hadn’t gotten back until after nine. Regan had agreed to meet him on the embankment by London Bridge at ten thirty.
It seemed a strange place to meet, especially for sex, but he hadn’t argued. He was tired and had a yearning just to see her. To solidify their deal. If he had his doubts, then he was sure she did as well.
He found her standing under a streetlight, and his heart hitched at the sight of her. Tonight, she wore jeans again, but with a black tank top—stark against her pale skin—that showed the upper curves of her breasts and her long, slender neck. Beautiful. His gaze fixed on her, and he hardly noticed the little dog until Trixie started yapping as he got close. Crouching down, he stroked her while he pulled himself together. When he straightened, Regan had a small smile on her face.
Slipping a hand behind her neck, he pulled her closer and kissed her, because he had to. And she was sweet, and hot, and felt so right against him. He pulled away and then dropped a last quick kiss on her lips. She looked a little bemused, but then gave herself a shake. “I thought you weren’t going to call.”
“I got caught up at work.”
“Catching bad guys?”
“Yeah.”
It was almost as though she had to remind herself of who and what he was. Perhaps he should take a lesson from her.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s walk.”
…
Regan breathed in the salt tang of the river and stared out over the black water. She was still getting over the relief she’d experienced when he’d actually called. She’d told herself that of course he would. She had his goddamn dog, like a hostage, but as the hours passed, doubt had worried at her mind.
She’d finally decided she was going for a walk anyway—she’d needed fresh air, and she was still getting used to the idea that she could go out whenever she felt like it. It was a heady feeling. Nate had called as she and Trixie were heading out the door, and she’d told him to meet her at the river.
“Why here?” he asked.
“It’s one of my favorite places in London. I love the river, and I love walking along here when it’s dark and quiet. And it was on the to-do list I made for when I got out. Stroll along the river at night.”
She started walking, and he moved into position beside her, close but not touching, with Trixie trotting between them, her tail wagging frantically. They were silent for ten minutes, but it was a peaceful silence. She cast him little sidelong glances. He was in jeans again tonight—she liked him best in jeans—and a white shirt that hung loose with the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms with their sprinkling of golden hairs. She raised her gaze higher. He still appeared tired. There were shadows under his eyes and lines bracketing his mouth. She wanted to smooth them away. Or take him to bed, lie with his head on her breast, and stroke his hair until he fell asleep. She looked away.
That so isn’t part of the deal.
Turning her head slightly, she found him watching her. “You’ve got something in your hair,” he murmured.
“Probably paint. Trixie and I have been trying out colors today.”
“What are you painting?”
“My new business premises.”
“You need an office for your…business? Don’t you people just discuss jobs in the back rooms of shady pubs?”
“Hah. Very funny.” Clearly, he believed she was going straight back to her old ways.
“So what is this business?” he asked.
She had half a mind not to tell him, but she was excited about it and curious as to his reaction. And a little idea was stirring in her mind. She’d be much more likely to get her license if her application was endorsed by a detective. But she’d leave that conversation for another time.
“I’m going to set up a security business. I’ll test and design security systems and maybe do a little PI work as well.” She gave him a sideways peek. His brows were drawn together, and she hurried on. “I thought about it a lot inside—did I mention I had a lot of time to think? And I’m never going back. You might not believe that, but it’s true. At the same time, I’m good at being bad. I’ve got a knack for it. I can get into any safe, through any system. My dad used to set tests for me.”
“You think people would employ you? Aren’t you worried they’ll look into your past and presume you’re casing the joint or setting them up?”
“Some might.” It was a worry. “I’ll have to prove myself, but hopefully some will be willing to give me a try, and I’ll get a reputation for being reliable and…”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Her shoulders slumped. He evidently didn’t think it was possible. But she’d known it would be a hard slog to get people to believe in her. She’d prove him wrong.
“What else was on this to-do list?” he asked, obviously aiming to steer the conversation to safer ground.
“Lots of things. Mostly outside—that was the thing I hated most, being shut inside for so long. I want to swim in the sea with no land in sight, and dance under the stars and climb a mountain.”
“Maybe I could help with a few.”
“You could?”
“Well, if we’re going to be seeing each other for the month we agreed, why not?”
She shrugged. “I sort of thought we would just meet up and have sex and then go our separate ways.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Was it? She thought about seeing him, doing things with him, climbing mountains.
“It was just an idea.”
“No,” she said quickly. “It’s a good one. Sort of kills two birds with one stone. Besides, you look like you could do with a bit of fresh air yourself.”
“Things have been a little hectic.”
Of course. His life was probably pretty crazy right now. “How’s your dad?”
“As well as can be expected.” He turned to her. “He wants to meet you.”
She frowned. “You told him about us?”
“Just that I had a date tonight. It cheered him up. He thinks I need the love of a good woman.”
“Instead you’re plotting a purely sexual relationship with a bad one.”
They walked on in silence for a while. After about five minutes, he stepped closer and took her hand in his. It was a warm night, and for a while she closed off her mind and stopped thinking, enjoying the sensation of walking along the river, under the stars, with a handsome man at her side. She didn’t think about the fact that he was the one man most responsible for the worst time of her life.
She shook her head to dispel the thought, and his hand tightened around hers. They walked for miles. At some point, he bent down and scooped up Trixie and carried the little dog against his chest, still holding on to Regan with his other hand.
He couldn’t be all bad.
Once or twice, she thought about dragging him into a dark corner away from the streetlights and having her evil way with him, reminding herself what this relationship was all about. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to break the companionable silence. Besides, she didn’t want to shock poor Trixie.
Finally, her feet slowed and a yawn escaped her. She wasn’t far from home, and she had an urge to snuggle up alone and just sleep. She hadn’t slept well since she got out, but she felt strangely at peace tonight.
Nate came to a halt and turned to her, putting the dog on the ground where she sprawled at his feet. “So we’re agreed. We meet up, I help you with your bucket list, and we screw each other’s brains out.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She yawned again.
“But not tonight.”
“No, not tonight. I’m going to head home and go to bed. And I think Trixie is ready for hers.”
“Where is home?”
“About five minutes away.”
“I’ll walk you.”
She thought about telling him he didn’t need to bother, but she suspected Nate wasn’t the type to leave a woman alone in London in the middle of the night. She glanced at her watch. It was one in the morning. “This way,” she said, heading away from the river.
“This is where you’re staying?” he asked as she came to a halt in front of the gym.
“Above it,” she said. “The gym belongs to a friend of mine. I’m staying with her, and she’s renting me the office space next door.” She bent down to pat Trixie. “Good night then.” She wanted to go in, but instead, she shuffled her feet. Would he ask to see her again? Or would he phone her up when he fancied some sex? She could do the same. When she got an itch, she’d simply call him up to scratch it.
“I have a day off tomorrow. Why don’t you take some time off from the painting and come and see me?”
She had to fight to keep the grin from her face. Something told her that she couldn’t let this man know just how much she wanted to see him. Couldn’t give him the advantage.
Be cool.
“What time?”
“Eleven? After I’ve been in to see my father?”
“Okay.”
“Good—I’ll text you the address.”
At the doorway, he kissed her lightly, but didn’t ask to come in. She stood for a second as the door closed behind her, then—like a starstruck teenager—she listened as his footsteps walked away.
Yeah, real cool, Regan.