Chapter 17 #2
“Wait!” Simone called out, but the cat was already gone.
Her head tipped back. “I don’t really like the rain,” she said.
A shiver skated over her body. “When we were at Frederick’s country estate, I wasn’t lying about the fact that I can’t stand storms.” Raindrops sprinkled over her face, and she shuddered.
“Reminds me too much…” Her words trailed away as another shiver rocked her.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.” Where he could better control the environment and where she wouldn’t be shivering from the cold and the rain.
But Simone shook her head. “I need to be outside. I need to breathe.”
She could breathe in the hotel—
“The Arch,” she decided. “Let’s go there. If we’re under the Arch, we’ll be sheltered from the rain.”
The sky seemed to open up around them as they rushed toward the Arch.
The rain wasn’t a trickle any longer. It hit far harder.
More of a downpour and would it have killed Jezebel to mention the weather forecast to him when he’d updated her and said they were going out? Hell. Talk about getting drenched.
He yanked off his coat and tried to cover Simone with it as they raced toward the waiting Arch. She darted forward, and he was right with her. Moving fast, faster…
Until they were under the massive Arch. Until the stone walls were on either side of them, and they were protected from the downpour.
He realized that he still had his coat raised over her head.
She stood on the edge of the Arch, watching the rainfall.
There was no sign of the cat she’d been so enamored with moments before.
No sign of anything but the rain. They appeared to be the only people out, but he knew other agents had to be watching them in the darkness.
Jezebel had promised more eyes would be monitoring them.
“I hate the rain.” Simone’s shoulders sagged. “It wouldn’t stop that night. The car was in the ditch. I was trapped, and the water was just rising and rising.”
He lowered the coat. Tossed it to the stone floor. “Simone?”
She backed away, moving toward the nearby wall. The lights around the Arch let him see that he hadn’t protected her from the rain fast enough. Her white blouse was soaked and clung to her. It had also gone far too transparent.
His gaze jumped back to her face. “Simone…”
She motioned toward him. “You’re wet. A man in a wet, white shirt is sexy as hell, just so you know. I can see all those bulging muscles of yours. That fabric clings so tightly in all of the best ways.”
He swallowed. “Same, sweetheart…same.”
“I don’t have bulging muscles to—oh.” She’d looked down at herself. “Right.” A delicate clearing of her throat as her head tilted back and she met his stare. “Guess we both got soaked, huh?”
He didn’t give a shit about the rain except for what it was doing to her. Bringing up her past. Hurting her. “You’re trying to distract me by talking about my wet shirt and muscles.”
Her back pressed to the wall near her. In that location, she was quite protected from prying eyes. All eyes but his, that was.
“Would it be hard to distract you?” she asked. “You distracted me when I was afraid in the elevator. I quite liked the distraction.”
He’d quite liked kissing her.
“What if I told you that I wanted your mouth?” Simone asked. “What if I said that I’d like for you to kiss me, right here? Right now? Would that distract you?”
He glanced around the Arch. A ladder had been left out. Appeared someone had been doing repairs, and a ladder had been placed against the wall opposite of Simone. Shoddy work, that. Someone could get hurt with a ladder left hanging around.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” Simone pushed him.
“Baby…” His gaze returned to her. “I want to devour you.” Just so they were clear. “I want to kiss you. I want to taste you. I want to fuck you until you scream for me. Those items are always on my to-do list where you are concerned.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Such very tempting words. “I’m right here.”
He closed in on her. His hands lifted, then moved to press against the stone behind her, caging her between his body and the wall. “Stop playing games with me.” When would she learn that she couldn’t play with him?
“I’m not playing games. I’m offering to fuck you right here. Unless you’re afraid of fucking in public?”
Not like it was something he’d ever done before. And, also, they were not quite in public. In this particular spot, he had them hidden from sight. His head lowered toward hers. “There is nothing I want more than to fuck you.”
Her head tipped back. “Then do it.”
“You’re scared. You don’t want to face your pain.” Gritted words. His control held. Barely.
“What is the point in facing your pain?” Simone seemed truly confused. “It’s better to just bury it and walk away. Facing it does nothing but make the ache worse.”
He wanted to make all of her pain vanish, forever. “I upset you in the hotel suite.” He could see past her mask. Did she realize that? “When I talked about my family. As soon as I mentioned them, I noticed a difference with you.”
Her gaze darted away from his.
Ryan didn’t think she was going to respond.
The rain kept falling, so hard and heavy now.
“I was jealous.” Simone’s soft response.
“I won’t ever know what it means to belong with a family like yours.
To grow up in that kind of home.” Her stare slowly drifted back to him.
“I can be jealous and also be happy that you have them. I can feel both things at the same time. I’m a multitasker that way. ”
His chest ached. “Tell me about your past.”
“My past? Why? Isn’t it just better to focus on the present?” One delicate hand rose between them. She unhooked the top three buttons on his shirt. The fourth button.
“Simone.” This was important—she was important. “You were in the ditch. The water was rising. Why didn’t your parents help you?”
Her fingers had slipped inside of his open shirt to press against his skin. “Because the dead can’t help you.”
Fuck.
“I was trapped in the car. We all were. It had gone off the road. Into the ditch. I called for my parents, but they were dead in the front seat. I didn’t realize that, you see.
Six year olds don’t understand that their parents can be laughing and talking with them one moment and then just gone in the next instant.
They also don’t understand that creeks can overflow far too fast and the water can rush into ditches and that it can destroy everything. Everything.”
“Simone…”
“So I just kept crying and screaming for them as the water rose. I couldn’t get out.
It was on my ankles. Then my calves.” A shudder shook her body.
“Then my knees. It was dark and thunder boomed constantly. The water rose higher, going for my waist. My chest. My…” Another shudder. “Will you just kiss me?”
“You got out of the fucking car.” She was there with him. Alive. Safe. Yet a dark, yawning fear lived and breathed inside of him because…
She could have died.
Years ago.
Long before their paths had ever crossed and she’d flashed him that fantastic grin of hers.
“I got out of the fucking car.” Brittle words. “They didn’t. After that night, there was no more family for me. No more Lucky the cat. No more happy endings. Just rain and endless storms to chase me forever.”
This was real. She was being real with him, and he desperately wanted to protect her. To promise her that he’d be her shelter in any storm. That he would give her anything. Everything. That he could be her family.
He was sinking, drowning, in her, and Ryan did not care.
“Now either kiss me or let me go,” Simone told him.
He’d never let go.
His mouth took hers. A savage need pounded through his veins, but the kiss was careful. Soft. Gentle. Soothing because he knew she needed soothing. He wanted to show her how precious she was. He wanted to show her that he could handle precious things. That he could be—
“What in the hell is this?” she whispered. “Kiss me with your passion. Kiss me like you can’t wait to strip this wet blouse off me. Don’t kiss me like you pity me. Please don’t ever do that.”
His head lifted. “I do not pity you.”
Her chin notched up.
“I do not.” She needed to understand this.
“I hate that you lost your parents. I am so damn sorry for what you had to endure. I feel grief for you, with you. I hurt with you.” He did.
“You’re strong. You’re determined. You’re also kinda scary, in a way that I like.
I admire the hell out of you. I will never pity you. ”
“That is the sexiest thing a man has ever told me.” A quick inhale. “You think I’m scary? Truly?”
“Sweetheart, I think you’re hell on wheels, and I love that about you.” Love.
Fuck.
What. The…
Fuck?
It had just been an expression. Something people said. Hell on wheels was an expression. I love that about you…another expression. Casual expressions did not equal undying declarations.
Except the words felt like more. I love that about you almost felt like…I love you.
She was smiling at him again. Her big, beautiful smile. The one that made his heart race faster and made his whole world seem to realign so that she was his axis.
He kissed her again, unable to help himself. Ryan kissed Simone the way she’d wanted to be kissed. With passion. With the primitive need that surged through his veins. Like he couldn’t wait to strip that wet blouse off her. Like he couldn’t wait to claim her.
Her mouth opened wide beneath his. Her tongue met his. She moaned. He growled. He moved closer to her, pressing his body against hers. Feeling every single inch of Simone against him, but it wasn’t enough.
He wanted her naked. He wanted in her. But he was not taking her there. Not where agents and guards and tourists and who the hell else could pop out at any moment. He was not—
Something blasted past the side of his right arm. He felt it rip across him like a hot burn a moment before…
Wet. Why the hell does my arm suddenly feel even wetter than before?
And his mind processed too slowly. Too slowly because he’d gotten lost kissing Simone.
But then he realized…
Blood. My arm is bleeding. That was a freaking bullet that just tore past me.
Only he’d heard no gunshot. He’d thought they were inside the Arch far enough, tucked against the left wall enough that they’d be safe. He’d thought wrong.
He spun around, making sure to put Simone behind him.
“What are you doing?” Simone cried out. “This is seriously confusing behavior. You can’t kiss me one moment and then—”
“Gun,” he snarled.
“What? Ryan, I don’t—gun!” she screamed.
Yes, yes, dammit, he saw the shooter. The bastard had just come from the nearby doorway that led up to the balcony beneath the Arch’s bronze sculpture.
The prick had his gun raised, a gun with a long silencer on the end of it, so, yeah, that explained why there had been no loud gun blast when the weapon fired.
The man was cloaked in shadows, but once he advanced…
“That’s the hotel uniform!” Simone sucked in a sharp breath. “I saw some of the bellhops with the same outfits when we were on our way out.”
Yeah, he’d seen them, too. “Let me guess,” Ryan said to the shooter, “you and Edward the waiter happen to run in the same circles, huh?”
“You’re not supposed to die,” the shooter told him in a voice that rose a bit too high with nerves. “Get away from her. She’s the one I’m after. You live.”
“Cute.” Ryan did not move. “You think you get to snap out orders? To me?”
“I’m the man with the gun!” A gun that was shaking in his grasp. “She’s not worth your life, is she? Walk away. Now. Get out of here. Walk into the rain and don’t look back!”
Simone’s fingers brushed over Ryan’s back. “You should listen to him.” Quiet words. “It’s okay. I promise, I’ll survive.”
What in the actual hell was that response about?
“No, lady,” the man told her in his cracking voice. “You will not. It’s not personal, I swear. But you will not survive because I have to put a bullet in your brain.”
“Over my dead body,” Ryan swore.
The shooter sighed. “Okay.” A wince. “If that’s the way you want it. Really sorry about this, sorry to you both…”
And Ryan knew the jerk was about to fire again.