Chapter 4 #2
She toyed with the cashmere tassel on the bed’s gray throw blanket and sat on the settee. It took all her energy to remain somewhat poised. But she’d do it if it killed her. “A friend of mine, Sven, contacted me a month after the . . .” She cleared her throat. “Incident.”
Brock shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded curtly.
“He said he had a simple job with a big payout.”
Brock guffawed, and she pierced him with her stare.
“Sorry, but that’s usually a red flag, don’t you think?”
“Why don’t you let me finish?” she hissed.
He shrugged and she dropped the blanket and made a fist on her knee.
“Ubrigg Lichti is a world-renowned biochemist. Sven originally told me it was a high-profile formula. He said he didn’t know what it was for, but a rival company wanted it.
All I had to do was copy the files from Ubrigg’s computer.
Sven supplied me with a password, and voilà. ”
“Have you looked at the files?”
She shook her head. “I was given strict instructions not to.”
He scraped the tip of his thumb along the bottom of his chin. “Don’t you think it’s strange that Sven already had Ubrigg’s password?”
She tilted her head and fought the urge to roll her eyes. “You’ve never cracked a password for a job?”
“Yeah, but that’s different. We do months of surveillance, plant moles, install cameras.”
“Pretty sure Sven went the same route. Our methods are nothing original.”
“Okay, so then why was Interpol here?”
She grimaced and chewed the edge of her cheek between her teeth. “I think the bigger question is why an Interpol agent tried to kill me as if he were an assassin.”
A sound rumbled from Brock’s mouth—half groan, half growl. “I don’t want to explore those possibilities at the moment, but let’s just agree for now that this picture isn’t right.”
There was no way to sugarcoat it. All she could do was pray Sven was highly misled.
“One thing,” she said, holding out her finger.
Brock’s eyebrows squeezed together, and she forced herself to continue.
“Sven’s on his way to Geneva. He’s going to contact me in the morning with a meeting place so I can pass off the flash drive.
He said we’re in danger. It’s not like him to get uneasy. ”
“And?”
She blew out a breath. “Before he hung up, he said ‘bioterrorism.’” She swallowed and watched Brock’s face change. The rigid muscles under the shadow of his jaw sagged and his eyes rounded. His tanned skin turned ashy and a vein pumped at his temple.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He stormed to one end of the room and back.
A ball of shame swelled in her belly. Calling him had been impulsive.
She’d needed support, an anchor, a familiar voice to steady her in the tumultuous storm.
And deep down, buried under her pride, she’d wanted him to come.
Whether he’d picked up on her hidden plea or not, he was here—because she’d called him.
How could she not? Brock had been a steady presence in her life since she was twelve years old.
He’d caught her stealing his bike and even then, he hadn’t gotten angry at her.
Instead, he’d warned her she’d get into trouble one day if she wasn’t careful.
He’d taken her back to her aunt and uncle’s house and told Serena and Milo what she’d done—only to find no scorn in their reactions.
His curiosity piqued, he’d quickly learned about the darkness of their youth.
The memories of her lack of childhood made her shudder.
Moving in with Uncle Sebastian and Aunt Mae after their mom died had been hell for Serena and her.
Sebastian had used them, teaching them to lie and steal when they should have been learning to ride bikes or playing with dolls.
And Mae had always been too sweet to stand up to her husband.
Dani’s childhood had been about survival and work—and not the work most parents and guardians touted.
Oh, no. They’d learned to pickpocket, hotwire cars, steal.
No one suspected two innocent young girls could be thieves—and damn good ones.
Then she’d turned seventeen and Brock’s gaze started to linger longer on her face.
His fingers would brush hers unnecessarily, sending electrical bolts to her heart.
A year of torturous touches and half-hooked smiles from him had her head over heels.
Finally, she’d made the move that had catapulted their relationship out of the friend zone and kissed him.
Nothing had been the same after that. In the heat of passion, they’d had sex at their favorite picnic spot.
No matter how much she resented him now, her traitorous heart still yearned for those days.
For the love they’d unabashedly showered on each other.
Seven years of bliss exploded into smithereens when he betrayed her three years ago.
No, he shouldn’t be here.
He was in deep, tied to this mess in a way he couldn’t easily back out of. Not now that there was a dead Interpol agent on the floor of his cousin’s house. But she had to give him a way out. It wasn’t fair to assume he’d stay, or to ask him to help dig her ass out of a really fucked-up situation.
“You should leave, Brock. If you go now, no one will know you were here.”
His gaze snapped to hers. His mouth split in a sardonic grin, but no amusement lingered in his usually playful eyes.
“We both know I can’t do that.” His words were heavy, pained.
For a flicker of an instant she wanted to beg him to tell her what that meant.
Because he’d just murdered someone? Because he thought she couldn’t survive without him? Or because he couldn’t leave her?
She stood and floated to him. She brought her palm to rest on his elbow, circling the thick muscle that had carried her more than once in her life.
Heat emanated from his skin, calling hers like a beacon.
Having those arms around her would dissolve all her fear .
. . but inflict so much pain. She smoothed her thumb over his forearm.
As much as she hated him for what he’d done to her—to them—there was still good in him.
“You can, though. I never should have gotten you involved. I had no idea—”
“Forget it, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Do you honestly think that’s the only guy who’ll be after you? We need to get this to the local authorities.” His gaze swept the room and landed back on her face. “And we need to get out of here.”
She rubbed her palm against her forehead. She wasn’t going to waste any more time trying to convince him to save himself. Doing this alone would suck. And she’d be lucky to stay alive long enough to meet Sven.
“We can’t go to the cops.”
“Dani, this is too dangerous to carry out.”
“You don’t understand.” She shook her head. “One of the men who broke into my apartment was a cop with the local authorities. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, didn’t have a radio, and he snuck into my apartment, shot up my doors, and chased me down.”
He lowered his head and pressed the tips of his fingers into his eyes. “Christ almighty. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
She chose to ignore his comment. “Maybe these guys don’t work for Ubrigg—maybe they work for the rival company and they want the device before Ubrigg gets to it. And once I hand off the device, they won’t be after me anymore.”
He snorted. “I don’t think that’s the only motivation.”
“What do you mean? He wanted the data.”
“They don’t just want the formula. If Interpol is involved, they want the terrorists—you, Dani.”
His words crashed into her with the force of a freight train. She couldn’t go to prison. She’d never see Serena again, never get to meet her niece or nephew. Oh god, she was an international felon. Her body wavered and her lungs ached as if the rope still circled her throat.
Brock caught her waist and pulled her to his chest. She dropped her face into his warm, citrus-scented shirt and breathed.
His hands moved over her back as if memorizing each muscle and vertebrae.
Warmth crawled over her skin, easing away her aches and pains.
God it felt good to be in his arms. To feel his strength and stability.
His hand grazed her lower back and her loins clenched.
It had been a long time since she was intimate with a man, since she screamed and came on the mind-numbing ride of ecstasy.
She needed it right now. Needed the pleasure he could so easily inflict on her begging body.
His cheek rested on top of her head and he muttered soothing promises.
Squeezing his shirt in her fists, she concentrated on the cadence of his heart against her ear and forced away all rages of desire.
“It’s all right. I won’t let anything happen to you.
I promise.” His voice was gruff and synched with the memories of their lovemaking.
He wanted her too, and if he spoke any sweeter, she’d take her panties off herself and straddle him.
He wouldn’t protest—that was as certain as his next breath.
She broke her cheek away from his sternum, hating the cool air that replaced his warmth.
“We should go,” she said, a tremor breaking her words.