Page 69 of The Fallen One

“Mom knows both Pierce and Craig.” She cringed. “I’m pretty sure that confirms she knew I was working on more than clean energy.”

“Not necessarily. She only became Secretary of State this summer, and it was originally supposed to be interim. This plan had to be in motion long before she got the job. Not to mention her job is diplomacy, not defense. But it doesn’t mean her strings weren’t being pulled by her boyfriend since he’s Secretary of Energy. Or by Craig without her knowledge to get you in the door of the company.”

Her shoulders dropped. “I hope you’re right. I don’t want to totally hate my mother.”

I tried to consider what else to say to ease her concerns, but the image of Craig inside that limo with her came back into my mind, sending me over the edge again. “What’d you tell Craig when he cornered you that day?”

“I didn’t tell him anything other than he was wrong about you, and that you’re not a bad guy.” She lifted one shoulder.

So freaking innocent, and I’d swallow you fucking whole. I have to stay away, damnit.

“I also told him to leave you alone.”

Her words created a tight band of pressure inside my chest, and I drew my hand over my heart. Here I’d been thinking that organ of mine, caged protectively within my rib cage, only functioned to pump blood. Yet, her words practically stopped it from doing even that.

“You okay?” She successfully stood without help, only to shoot her hands out in front of her for balance.

“Diana,” I warned, worried she’d fall, but my terse tone didn’t stop her efforts to get to me.

She placed one hand on my shoulder, then reached for my new accessory and closed her other hand around the crucifix. Sad blue eyes lifted to my face as she repeated, “Are you okay?”

“You shouldn’t be asking me that. I should be asking you.”

“I brought up Rebecca, and I know that may not be easy for you.”

All that she’d been through, and there she was worried about my feelings. Not only did she not fear me like she should’ve, she seemed to care about me. For both our sakes, I had to make it stop. It wasn’t safe for her to even know me, let alone defend me to assholes like Craig.

“Rebecca’s not who I’m thinking about right now, trust me,” I revealed, the opposite of what I should’ve shared.

“Who are you thinking about, then?” She appeared to be holding the cross so tightly it’d likely leave an imprint against her palm, which had to be symbolic of something I didn’t care to consider right now.

I reached for her wrist and slanted my face so our lips were closer as I confessed in a damn near hoarse voice, “I think you know.”

29

CARTER

“Hey, it’s us. Can we come in?” Easton asked from the other side of the bedroom door.

Good timing. He’d saved me from nearly kissing this woman. What had I been thinking?

Diana released the cross and peeked back over her shoulder at the bed.

Right . . . your panties.

Her face flushed, and she went over and hid them. No falter in her step that time, which hopefully meant the effects of the drugs were wearing off.

“Come in,” I said to Easton once she seemed comfortable to have visitors in the room.

The door slowly opened, and Easton walked in, followed closely by Griffin, who had a mug in his hand.

Griffin glanced at me funny, and I realized why.

“Can someone get me a shirt?” I tore a hand through my semi-damp hair, swiping away the beads of water lingering there from my impromptu shower. “Maybe pants, too. And dry fucking shoes.”

A lopsided grin from Griffin caught my eye before he handed over the broth to Diana.

Easton angled his head as if waiting for me to ask him for something else, too. When I glared at him like an impatient CO, he asked, “Want an update first?”

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