Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“Over my dead body.” Coulter fumed as he stared back at Alex. “Call him back right now and tell him you’ve changed your mind.”
“No.”
“No?” His blue eyes blinked with surprise. “You can’t just say no, Alex.”
“And yet, I’m pretty sure I just did.”
He pressed his lips together as he fought the urge to growl while also forcing his gaze to remain locked with her defiant eyes. She was standing feet away in an adorable cotton pants and semi-cropped, boxy t-shirt pajama set, and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.
The woman had no idea how incredibly tempting she looked, which only added to her magnetic appeal. But since nothing was ever going to happen between them, especially now that Alex knew the truth, Coulter kept his eyes up and his focus homed in on the most important matter at hand.
“Alex, I’m serious.” He needed her to understand just how much. “You know the kind of man Crawford is.”
She nodded with a look of disgust. “I do now, which is exactly why I can’t cancel. I don’t want him even suspecting that I know anything about the other.”
“He won’t.”
“He will.” Alex sounded quite confident of that before she went on to explain.
“Think about it, Colt. Two hours ago, I was basically fangirling all over the guy, especially after he suggested the possibility of showcasing my paintings. He knows what it would mean to have his name backing my work. If I pull a complete one-eighty out of the blue, he’ll wonder why, and that will lead to questions neither one of us want to answer. ”
“So the decision to have dinner with him tomorrow night is about protecting me, is that it?”
“I’m trying to protect us both. Trust me, the last thing I want is to have to sit at a table with that slimeball and pretend I’m ever-so-lucky to be in his presence.
But he was pushing, and I’ve had a really long, very bizarre night so I caved, okay?
Not to mention, my professional reputation is on the line.
But it’s just dinner. One meal. I’ll listen to his ideas about my paintings, make it sound as though I’m still honored by the chance to work with him, but then I’ll tell him I need to check my calendar for a good time to meet up again later.
We’ll say goodnight, and I’ll fly back to Charlotte the following morning. ”
“And when he calls you again after you’re home?” Coulter challenged. “What excuse will you give him then? Because the bastard will follow-up with you, Alex. You said it yourself; he knows the kind of opportunity he’s proposing. And once Crawford sees something he wants—”
“He doesn’t give up,” Alex finished for him. “I know, but it’ll be fine. I’ll just . . . ghost him or something.” She shrugged. “I’ll start avoiding his calls and get ‘too busy’ to return his messages. Eventually he’ll move on to the next shiny, new thing and forget all about me.”
“And you don’t think ghosting him will raise the guy’s suspicions?”
“I’m sure it will, but I was kind of hoping that, by then, you and your team of spooks would have put him behind bars.
Come on, Colt. I mean . . . what else do you want me to say?
Would you rather I cut him off completely now, or stay in contact with him until I go back to Charlotte?
You’re the super-secret spy, so you tell me. What exactly is it you want me to do?”
“Well, for starters, I want you to have never agreed to have dinner with the son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a little late for that now,” she bit back.
Half-a-second later, a large yawn struck.
Alex covered her mouth and waited to start talking again.
“It’s late, Colt. And much as I’m dreading spending even a second in that disgusting pig’s presence, I don’t see that I have much choice.
So we can either stand here and keep doing this back-and-forth bit until one of us crashes, or you can let me get some sleep.
Oh, and if you wake up in the morning to find me gone, don’t freak out. I have to go shopping.
“Shopping?”
“Chez Martine, remember? I assumed I’d be going home tomorrow, so I only packed one dress.”
“And no self-respecting woman would be caught dead wearing the same dress two nights in a row, right?”
“What do you think?” Alex sent him a pointed brow.
Coulter stared back at the stubborn woman knowing she was right. Not about the dress. Well, that, too, he supposed. But she was also right about following through with her plans to have dinner with Crawford.
Shit.
Dammit.
Shit, shit, shit.
He hated it when she was right. Actually that wasn’t true. Her record for besting him at family gathering debates was impressive by anyone’s standards. But this was the one instance when Coulter needed her to be wrong.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t.
During the course of Coulter’s research for the role he was currently playing he’d learned a great deal about Crawford. The guy was a virtual god, and an endorsement from him was an artist’s golden ticket to guaranteed fortune and fame.
So Alex was right. She couldn’t cancel their plans, or he might get spooked and call off the upcoming auction. And though he didn’t want her anywhere near Crawford’s vicinity, Coulter couldn’t forget—
The case above all else.
He’d first heard the mantra on day one of his training at The Farm.
The belief had been drilled into him and every other man and woman there.
Over the course of their schooling and grueling, physical tests, Coulter and the others were conditioned to believe a single life meant nothing when it came to the greater good.
But this wasn’t just any life. This was Alex.
My Alex.
She wasn’t his, but it didn’t matter. She meant more to him than she or anyone else would ever know. If he didn’t want this dinner to happen, he needed to do something to disrupt Crawford’s plans.
With a new goal in mind, he acted as though he were conceding the fight. “Let me know when you get up in the morning, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
Her tired eyes shone with a look of surprise. “You’re going to take me shopping?” Alex chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, Colt, but it’s not necessary.”
“Actually it is.” Coulter shoved his hands into his pockets with a sigh.
“Look, I get that Crawford runs a legitimate art business, and he was right to notice how incredibly talented you are. But I know the horrors that man has forced onto others. I’ve seen the aftermath of his terror with my very own eyes.
I know things he’s done. Things he’s planning to do.
And the idea of you spending any amount of time with him is .
. .” His voice trailed at the terrifying thought.
“The bottom line, Alex, is that keeping everyone in this country safe from people like Crawford is quite literally my job, and that includes you.”
Alex’s expression fell. “Do you think I’m in some sort of danger?”
“At the moment? No. But I can’t take that chance. If anything happened to you, and I was in the position to help prevent it, your sister and my brother would never forgive me.”
If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.
“It’s just shopping, Colt.”
“I know.” He didn’t argue the woman’s point.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need protection.
If for no other reason than to put my mind at ease.
” While she appeared to be taking a moment to consider his side of things, Coulter prodded her with a softer, “So what do you say? Just this once, do you think you can take off the gloves and maybe meet me halfway?”
“You’ll be bored out of your mind.”
“I have a government credit card with no limit.” His brows waggled up and down.
A sparkle of interest flashed but then, “Wouldn’t that be illegal? Or at the very least, ethically wrong?”
“You’re having dinner with my target, and there’s a chance you could glean intel that’s helpful to our investigation.”
Alex sent him a tiny smile. “You were pretty quick on the draw with the justification of using government money to buy me a new dress. You sure you aren’t really a politician disguised as a government spy?”
“Is there much of a difference?” He chuckled.
“Probably not.” Alex started to laugh but ended up covering another large yawn with her hand, instead.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Do not . . . look . . . down.
Coulter couldn’t help himself.
He looked down.
She’d kept herself covered before with her tightly crossed arms, but even with the thin cotton shirt, the outline of her protruding nipples was plain to see.
“Sorry.” She sighed.
His eyes flew up at the same time hers reopened. Coulter schooled his expression in record time, flashing what he prayed was an innocent smile.
“I should go so you can get some sleep.”
“Okay.” Alex followed him to the door.
“Like I said, give me a holler in the morning when you’re ready to roll.” He opened the door before turning back her way. “Oh, and I probably should’ve said something earlier, but about that kiss. It was . . .”
Phenomenal. Earth-shattering, even. The best kiss I’ve ever had in my life.
Thankfully she spoke up before he said any of those things.
“It’s okay.” Her arms went back to their previous, crisscrossed position. “I get it. You were trying to keep Gordan from seeing me because you didn’t realize he knew who I was.”
The woman always had been quick on the uptake.
Coulter smiled back with breath of relief. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
If only she knew how deeply that kiss had affected him. He’d swear her taste was still there on the tip of his tongue.
“Goodnight, Colt.”
“’Night, Alex. See you in the morning.”
He stepped into the hall as she shut the door behind him. Coulter waited until he heard the locks engage before walking the short distance back to his room.
Once inside, he began to pace, his mind working overtime to come up with another plan. He needed a way to keep Crawford from Alex. Something that would supersede the other man’s desire for the two of them to have dinner.
Me. I need to give him me.