Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
“ S he’s great,” Jasmine said when he walked back into the living room.
He eased his frame into the armchair. “Yeah, she’s something else. I’m lucky to have her.”
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” she asked.
He shifted, nervously. “I guess.”
She laughed. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just wondered why you told her she didn’t have to call you dad.”
He hesitated. “It’s a recent thing. We’re still getting used to it.”
“Oh?”
On the television, a slow-motion shot of a bullet cutting through the air played in eerie silence. He knew what that sounded like. He’d had rounds zip past his head, making that sharp, high-pitched pew . It was a sound that stayed with you.
He knew the other sound too, the one that came when a bullet found flesh. He had two scars on his side to show for it.
“Yeah,” he said, switching his gaze back to her. “I found out a while ago but only told her the other day. I thought it was time. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
“I see.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You didn’t really need to know that. You just have this way about you, it makes people want to tell you their darkest secrets.” Was that how Al-Jabiri had felt too?
She smiled. “Occupational hazard.”
His lips quirked. “Yeah.”
She sipped her wine, her fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of the glass.
Long, elegant fingers.
He was appalled to find himself wondering how those fingers would feel curled around him. His throat went dry.
“She seems to be taking it well,” Jasmine remarked, oblivious to his sudden discomfort.
“She is now,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “When I first told her, she shut me out. Told me to leave.”
“Shock will do that. She probably needed time to process.”
He nodded. “It’s great having her in my life. I’m sorry I waited so long to tell her.”
“Why did you wait?” Jasmine fixed that warm, probing gaze on him.
“It never seemed like the right time.” He hesitated. “Then last summer, Izzy was kidnapped, and I thought I’d lost her.”
Her eyes widened. “Kidnapped? Dear God.”
“Yeah.” His jaw clenched. “She’s worth a lot of money. Not only is she wealthy in her own right, but she inherited a mining company from her father—or rather, the man she thought was her father.”
“How did you get her back?” Jasmine leaned forward, intrigued.
He hesitated. “I won’t bore you with the details, but two of my operatives got her out.”
Her breath hitched. “A happy ending,” she murmured. “I like that.”
“You will have a happy ending too.” Then he grimaced, realizing how cheesy that sounded.
“I mean—” He rubbed his stubbly chin. “I know you’ve been through hell, but it’ll be okay.”
“I hope you’re right, Patrick,” she whispered.
The breathy way she said his name made his stomach tighten.
She stood. “I think I’ll turn in. It’s been a long day.”
He got up too. “Of course. Let me show you to your room.”
She frowned. “I don’t want to be a bother. I can sleep here—” She gestured to the sofa.
“You aren’t putting me out.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Okay, then. If you insist.”
As they walked up the stairs, he switched on the lights, leading her to the room he’d prepared.
“I changed the bedding,” he said, feeling stupid for mentioning it.
She stepped inside and glanced around, running her hand along the bedframe. “This is nice, Patrick. It’s very you.”
His brow furrowed. “It is?” How did she know what was very him ?
“Yes. Manly, but a little rough around the edges.”
Something stirred deep inside him, but he pushed it aside. “Well, I hope you find it comfortable.”
“I’m sure I will.”
She was standing too close. Her scent—something soft and subtle, like jasmine—wrapped around him, and suddenly, leaving wasn’t as easy as it should have been.
Leave.
Say goodnight and walk away.
He gestured to the door. “I’m next door in the spare room, if you need me.”
“Okay.”
Silence stretched between them.
He turned to leave.
“Patrick?”
He froze. “Yeah?”
She stepped closer, her warmth radiating toward him, and kissed him gently on the cheek. But she lingered—just for a second too long.
And that hesitation undid him.
He turned his head, meeting her lips with his own, and the world stilled.
It felt as good as he’d imagined.
Better.
He half expected her to pull away, but she didn’t.
Instead, she sighed against his mouth, her lips parting ever so slightly, just enough for him to deepen the kiss. His pulse hammered as he slid one hand to the curve of her hip, the other threading into her hair.
She tasted like red wine and something inherently her . Warm and intoxicating.
Tentative at first, she kissed him back. Then, as if emboldened by his response, she pressed closer, her fingers sliding up his arms, curling around the back of his neck.
Heat radiated through him.
This was dangerous. A bad idea. The worst he’d ever had.
And yet, he needed her closer.
His arms tightened, pulling her against him, and she fit like she was meant to be there.
Her soft curves pressed into the hard lines of his body, and he was painfully aware of every point where they touched.
Then her fingers threaded into his hair, her nails grazing his scalp, and a shudder rolled through him.
Fuck.
He was already hard.
It had been years—years—since a kiss had undone him like this.
Unable to help himself, he deepened the kiss, his control slipping as she melted against him. He wanted more. Needed more.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it?
She was under his protection. A witness.
And he had already compromised the op for her.
What the hell are you doing?
Jasmine was the first to pull back, her breath uneven.
They stared at each other, both shaken. His heart pounded faster than an AK-47. Could she feel it?
“You do something to me,” he murmured. “I don’t know what it is, but when I look into those witchy green eyes of yours, I feel myself falling.”
She didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. Her voice was a whisper, her breath still mingling with his. “I feel it too.”
He clenched his jaw. “What now?”
He was holding on by a thread, every instinct screaming at him to take her to bed, to make love to her like she deserved to be made love to. To banish all thoughts of Amir Fucking Al-Jabiri from her head.
But he couldn’t .
He shouldn’t.
Goddamn it. He knew better than this.
“I think we’d better leave it there for tonight,” came the soft reply.
His heart sank even as he knew she was right. The madness that had possessed him had passed, even if his body hadn’t got the message yet. That was impossible to hide.
“Okay,” he said, his voice gruff with restraint. “You’re right. Get some sleep.”
And with that, he turned and walked out.
Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t leave at all.