A little after midnight, the door to the suite clicked open. Tensing, Griff turned to watch Lou Ellen walk in with one arm filled with folded sheets and in her other hand a steaming mug of something. She looked exhausted, but still more beautiful than any woman he’d met in a long time. He pushed up from the sofa and walked over to take the sheets from her.

“I’ll make the bed. You sit down, take your shoes off and enjoy that tea.”

The clean, fresh smell of the linens filled his senses and made him lightheaded, giddy almost. He’d checked out the huge bed in the bedroom and figured he might go to sleep tonight and never wake up. It had been a helluva long time since his mattress had been anything other than a worn out sleeping bag.

You chose that life, so don’t poor mouth. No, it chose me.

“I have enough men in my life trying to tell me what to do. Don’t be one of them,” she said, handing him the tea and taking the sheets back. His eyes fell to the perfect form of her ass as it swayed in her tight skirt while she walked to the bedroom. That ass alone made him want to stay, but he knew that would only endanger her and Layla.

She also had enough men in her life to protect her, which made him feel better about his decision to disappear as soon as they found Layla. It was best for all of them. But he needed to make sure she understood that before he put his hands on that amazing body of hers.

When she came back into the living room, he met her eyes and patted the sofa beside him. “Come here, Queenie. We need to talk,” he said, and she stopped for a second to stare at him.

“I’m talked out, Griffin. I’m looking for a place to lay my head and maybe a little action,” she said with a laugh. “We’re not getting any younger, and it’s past my bedtime.”

“That’s the first thing we need to talk about,” he replied, anger simmering in his stomach at her calling herself old. The woman was better preserved than any thirty-year old he’d seen. Her body was toned and perfect, her face held not a wrinkle. He preferred that she had life experience to go with those good looks. “I’m forty-six, you’re what?”

“Fifty-five,” she replied frowning. “You looked older before you shaved off the beard.”

“Then I’ll grow it back, if that makes you feel better,” he said, leaning forward to set the tea on the coffee table and stand. “After forty, age doesn’t mean shit, Queenie.” She laughed, and her smile warmed his insides as he stepped closer to take her shoulders in his hands. “If age is your only problem with me, I’d say I’m doing good. We need to talk about the other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” she asked, her perfectly-arched eyebrow lifting.

“The fact that me being here could get you killed if one of the Abu Sayyaf hitmen realize I’ve popped my head up. Like the FBI and CIA have a terrorist hit list, they have one too, and I’m sure I’m number one on that list.”

She harrumphed. “Bullshit. You can be helped, if you let us help you. But it seems you’re too stubborn to accept that.”

“That group is brutal and have a very long memory. It will never go away, unless that terrorist organization ceases to exist,” Griff said calmly. “They killed my family, and if we get involved, they will kill you and Layla too. Thomas Griffin can never live outside of the shadows again, or he and anyone he’s associated with, will be dead. You make me want to forget about that, but I have to remember, because I care about you.”

“You promised me today—that’s all I’m expecting,” she replied, putting her hand on his face. “But tomorrow, after we find Layla, I’m getting to work on fixing your problem.”

His stomach clenched. “You promised me that you would stay out of it.”

She shrugged. “Promises are made to be broken, but I’m holding you to the one you made. Stop talking and start kissing,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lou Ellen.”

“You can’t hurt me, I’ve been told I’m tougher than a nickel steak,” she said with a sexy smile as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

Griff knew that was one-hundred-percent not true. She was as kindhearted and sensitive as a woman could be, even though she pretended otherwise. And she cared deeply about the people in her life. In another life, he’d want to be one of those people. In his present form, there was no way he could allow that. He swallowed hard and decided to be blunt to make sure they were on the same page.

“As soon as we find, Layla, I’ll be gone, Lou. Tell me you accept that. Tell me you’ll take care of her and get her back into foster care. I can’t keep her with me anymore and I don’t want her on the streets again.”

Her eyes glistened. “I don’t accept it, but I’ll live with it if you want to hide again. Don’t expect me to stop trying to fix it, though. I will take care of Layla and I will find a solution to your problem.”

A tremor rocked him, but it wasn’t from relief. Her hand had found his fly, and she stroked him through his borrowed jeans. She flicked the button from the buttonhole, eased down the zipper, then slid her hand into the Superman briefs he had to force himself to put on. When her fingers closed around him, he groaned. Her hot palm scorched his flesh and Griff had to fight to stay standing.

“Let’s go to bed, Griff,” she whispered, and he pulled away.

Bending, he put one arm behind her back and the other behind her knees. She giggled when he lifted her into his arms.

“I haven’t been carried to bed in a long time,” Lou Ellen said, her voice trembling.

“I haven’t been in a bed in a long time, so we’re even,” he replied, lowering his mouth to hers to kiss her as he carried her to the bedroom.