Page 32 of Impossible Thrills

Nick said nothing. His gaze said it all. He was impressed by her and drawn to her, but nothing could come of the longing on either of their sides.

Fine. She was strong. She was used to being alone.

She tilted her chin up and jumped off the ledge.

Her stomach hopped. The fall was thrilling, but she didn’t scream and she didn’t have the joy of Nick’s hand in hers, knowing he’d stand by her, jump with her, help and lift her when she hit the water and couldn’t stay afloat on her own.

She was alone.

It shouldn’t have been as shocking as slamming into the cold water, stinging her feet and hands, and unfortunately swallowing a mouthful.

It was worse.

Chapter

Ten

Nick wished he could forget everything he was hiding from Darcy, talk through each of their pasts, plan a tentative future, and then kiss her for a very long time.

He could see that he’d hurt her by not kissing her and not explaining. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was backed into a corner. He couldn’t tell her everything, putting the mission to take down Trattori at risk and her at risk, and he couldn’t in good conscience pry details about her ex-husband out of her. He had no clue how to proceed. She’d shut him down last night, so he wasn’t certain why he felt like it was all on him now. It was confusing just as he’d said.

Darcy acted upbeat and fun. They went back to the yacht, showered, and had a late lunch. The yacht started moving shortly after they returned. After lunch, she cajoled even Jagger into playing card games, but she didn’t bring up sharing their stories again and she kept her distance from Nick.

After the games, she said she had a headache and went to lay down in her room. Nick was at a loss for what to do, since downtime wasn’t something he had much of in his daily life. When Jagger suggested they work out, he was in. They had a good camaraderie and had fun teasing and pushing each other, but he and Jagger held back, not wanting to be too sore when they pummeled each other in two days.

After the workout, they showered and got ready for dinner. The lack of purpose or activity was killing him. Knowing he’d confused or possibly hurt Darcy was killing him worse.

He should keep his distance, not get more invested in a target’s ex-wife, muddy the waters any further, or risk hurting her, but he found himself striding to her door and rapping softly.

Footsteps came and just her head, shoulder, and arm poked out of a slit in the door. “Hey.” Her hair was piled on her head, and her arm and shoulder were bare. His pulse sped up.

“Hey. Can I walk you to dinner?”

She bit at her lip and considered him. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll be a few minutes.”

“I’m good at waiting. Remember?”

“I remember.”

Her blue eyes were confused. He could relate. If they didn’t have her stupid ex between them, he’d be pursuing her like nothing she’d ever seen. He curled his hand into a fist to restrain himself from reaching for her and stepped back.

She shut the door.

He leaned against the opposite wall, waiting, stewing. If he got her alone and somehow got the story of her marriage out, could he make the call on whether she was innocent? Most people hid any ugliness, and she had no reason to trust him with her life story. He’d never heard of any agency claiming without a doubt that she supported Trattori. She and Trattori were divorced, but most people he’d talked to as he researched the drug dealer speculated that Darcy Saint knew exactly what had given her an over eight-million-dollar divorce settlement. He couldn’t picture Darcy being part of anything illegal and depraved, but how could anyone be naïve enough to not know their husband was a drug lord?

Jagger and Hays came out of their respective rooms in short-sleeve button downs and slacks, similar to what he was wearing.

Jagger smirked. “Did Julie shop for you too?”

“Julie?”

“Mercedes’s assistant,” Hays supplied.

“Oh. Yeah. It’s weird not to have my own clothes, but she did a great job with sizing, and the quality of the clothes is great.”

“Sure, but you’d think she’d trust us to bring clothes suitable for her television show, but no.” Jagger chuckled.

“Hey. Julie’s an angel,” Hays said. “I wouldn’t trust you to pick out your own clothes either.”

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