7. Chapter 7
Rogue, the tabby stray he had taken in, normally hid when guests were over, but today he lay purring on the kitchen counter as Kate pet him. Damn traitor, Raz thought, trying not to stare at the twins, Kate’s fox hood still over her head.
“Wouldn’t have pictured you as a cat person,” she said, delight sparkling in her gaze as she looked at Rogue.
Raz sighed. You still think this is a good idea?
He pointed his thoughts toward his screaming instincts that told him to trust her and bring her to his home.
Sharing his personal space might lower her guard, and it was the safest option for confronting her about her Fallen side.
After all, he understood they were both supernatural and played by different rules.
What was he supposed to do with her? And why, for the life of him, could he not treat her like a criminal?
He still didn’t know if she was Midnight, though another strike went against her for being from Japan like Matsuda, but he’d forfeited the handcuffs without a second thought, his dragon pushing at him to protect.
He’d given her the opportunity to run away without a second thought.
He just needed answers; then he could figure out what to do next.
First, according to his training, he needed to work up a rapport before confrontation.
“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” he muttered, twisting back to find something to eat, the freezer door still in his grasp.
“Oh, you’re going to cook for me?”
“Don’t get too excited, princess.”
“Please stop calling me that.” The sincerity in her voice pulled him to turn toward her.
She pet Rogue with slow movements as a serene darkness crossed her expression.
“Why?” he asked, though he had to wonder if her aversion had something to do with her being an orphan.
She looked up at him from under her thick eyelashes. “It’s not sexy? How about kitten…that’ll suit me.”
More like foxy in that sexy…He squeezed the fridge handle. Onesie? Come on, Raz…you’re losing it. An image of her naked on that aerial silk flitted across his mind, performing as she had earlier. Warmth built in his groin. Shit. Get your head straight.
He forced his brain to remember the WWII black market auction Midnight had struck to steal Lucifer’s Bell, leaving Lukas to die in Raz’s arms. Matsuda could afford the piece ten times over, but he had sent Midnight to send a message.
To whom—the Dragon SEALs still hadn’t figured that out.
Raz had been searching for that Bell ever since he’d…
he’d abandoned what was left of his clan. And now another evil had it.
Time to play good cop. He grabbed a large frozen pizza from the freezer with tight fingers. While he fetched a tray from a cabinet and preheated the oven, Kate meandered to his fridge. From the clanking sounds, he believed she was messing with his magnets.
“What’s your kitty’s name?” she asked.
“Rogue.”
“Nice to meet you. You’re such a cute little guy,” she cooed. “Okay, well, bye, Rogue.”
A plop echoed behind Raz as the cat jumped off the counter.
After Raz stuck the pizza in the oven, he walked to the refrigerator.
Cold beer tempted him, but he took a water bottle instead.
Closing the door, he eyed Kate’s refrigerator masterpiece.
She had placed the hotel note he had pinned to the board onto the fridge with his magnets arranged in a heart around it.
This woman!
Playful to no end. How would that come out in the bedroom?
Willing himself away from the thought before it led him down a dangerous path, he turned back.
Kate watched him from behind the kitchen island, her feet propped up on the bar stool beside her as she tilted her chair back like she owned the place.
She charged the surrounding air with an intoxicating confidence, making it easy to succumb to her charm.
He wanted to find out where all that confidence came from. His fists clenched.
“Put your feet down,” he said. “One of these times you’re going to fall.”
She waved a nonchalant hand in his direction. “I’ve been doing it for years. Ever since I came to America and ate at tables instead of the floor. And I’ll keep doing it—without falling.”
He grinned at her in challenge. She wanted to play that game, then? His dragon stood in his mind’s eye, swishing its tail back and forth.
As if his smile put her off guard, she settled back and the chair careened backward. Her eyes widened, and she toppled over, crashing into the mess behind her.
Told you. Raz covered his shit-eating grin, trying to hold in his laughter.
“You have too many boxes,” she wailed.
He stepped around the island as she rolled onto her side atop the boxes that had cushioned her fall. With her face blazing red, she stood, avoiding his gaze and stumbling over folders that slipped out of the boxes. As her hand shot to the back of her head, she winced.
“You okay?” he asked, stepping toward her.
“Go away. I’m fine.” She held her palm out to stop him.
Blood covered her fingertips. Her lip jutted out, and she pressed her hand to her head.
He swallowed the sudden ball of fear and gentled his voice. “Come here.”
She eyed him suspiciously as she took hesitant steps toward him. Turning around, she let him inspect her injury. Her thick black hair ran through his fingers like fine silk. Red tinged a few strands, and he followed the trail to find the wound small enough to fit under a normal Band-Aid.
“It’s a minor scrape,” he said, sighing to loosen the strain in his muscles. “What did you even hit your head on?”
She stepped away from his touch.
“I don’t know. Maybe that paperweight you so conveniently have holding down a box.” She pointed at the marbled black and gold rock with his name engraved on the front, an office-warming gift that had gone unused when they promoted him to Special Agent.
“Sorry about that.” He waved her toward the kitchen door. “Come. I’ll patch you up.”
“I can do it myself,” she grumbled, following his direction while holding her head. They walked through the living room into his bedroom.
He spent little time dirtying his house up other than in his office, but he couldn’t help the tight pit in his stomach that forced him to look for anything out of place in his simple bedroom. You don’t have to make a good impression. She’s a felon.
“Bathroom on your left,” he said.
As she walked toward his bathroom, she gazed around as if trying to find something hidden behind his dresser. The orange of her onesie glared brightly within the bathroom’s black and white aesthetic.
“Someone didn’t skimp out…” She gawked. “A Jacuzzi tub, a shower, his and her sinks. You have it all.”
He grunted as he opened the cabinet next to the bathroom. Something jangled off to the side as if she were ruffling through the products between the two marble-lined sinks.
You’re a curious one. Probably looking for something to steal.
“Do you get hurt on your heists often?” he asked, needing to start his interrogation as he grabbed the medical kit from the bottom shelf.
“I pulled a muscle escaping the Smithsonian.”
She’d left with easily the most expensive item she’d stolen—the Hope Diamond necklace.
When the police had arrived, her aerial silks still hung from the museum rafters from her hasty escape—the same kind he’d seen her swinging around on earlier.
Midnight never seemed injured at a crime scene, no blood left behind despite the carnage.
Closing the door, he turned, and Kate had her onesie pulled over her shoulders, baring smooth skin and black bra straps. Heat scorched through him, centering at his core. He averted his eyes to her face.
His bathroom wasn’t small, but she seemed to fill every space, testing his limits. His dragon was crawling over his skin, making him itchy and warm even as he stood in the doorway.
She tilted over the sink, pulling her hair back, trying to see the damage.
Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he placed the kit on the counter and searched for gauze.
After wetting his black hand towel and wringing it out, she tried to clean the cut.
As she struggled to locate the wound, his body tensed with the need to help.
He stepped toward her, dragon energy thickening the air. “Here, let me.”
She sighed but handed him the wet rag. As he stood close, her delicious aroma washed over him. He could breathe that scent all day. But now wasn’t the time.
Carefully, he cleaned the cut that was smaller than the edge of a pencil eraser.
The surrounding area had already swelled, and judging from her tight shoulders, was painful.
From her joking attitude and sense of well-being, he believed it hadn’t been a hard enough hit to worry about a possible concussion.
With the rag, he pinched her hair to clean the blood from the strands. He pressed a piece of gauze against the wound. In the mirror, he caught her watching him.
“Why are you glaring at me?” he asked, trying to hold back his grin. “I didn’t even laugh.”
She scoffed. “How noble of you.”
“It should stop bleeding here soon, but I’ll put liquid Band-Aid on it in the meantime.”
“Do what you gotta do, doc.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. Reaching over, he grabbed the liquid bandage.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re just not what I expected,” he murmured, meeting her dark gaze in the mirror once more. The air sizzled between them, igniting his other side and intensifying the itchy sensation across his body.
She gasped as if she felt it, too. “You mean funny…sexy…out-of-your-league?”
He tried not to laugh as he applied the liquid. “Bubbly. You’re authentically bubbly.”
“I’ll take it. So, are you done yet? I’m hungry.”
“All set.” He tossed the liquid tube into the medical bag.
Kate fluffed her hair out and covered her shoulders, causing the neckline to plunge more than it had before.