Page 33 of Centurion

She laughed and shook her head. “That’s a bit grandiose, isn’t it?”

“No.” He rubbed her back with his big hand, expertly avoiding the holster and knife’s hilt. “No, I don’t believe it is. I’ve told you I’ve been searching for you.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to slip away again.”

“Hey,” she whispered, and he opened his eyes. “My name isn’t Jackie Harriger. Itismy alias, and I’ve used it most of my life. I answer to Jackie, Centurion, or Ronnie. I can’t tell you myreal name. If I did, people would be in danger. Butyouknow where I live. That’s my home here in this country. I live here most of the time. You now know more about me than almost anyone in this world. There are a handful of people who know the full story, and they’re the ones who could be hurt if who I am got out. I won’t endanger them, and I don’t want to slip away. I like what’s happening between us.”

His lips came down on hers again, and their tongues danced in erotic movements that ferried the most delightful streams of warmth through her body. They pooled at her core, and a full-bodied shiver set off a feeling of lust that literally weakened her knees. A car horn sounded, which shattered the illusion of being alone in the world. Though they pulled apart, he didn’t release her from his hold. “Thank you for allowing me a glimpse of who you are. I won’t push, and I won’t search.”

She smiled up at him and let her arms drop from around his neck to his chest. “We should go.”

He dropped for a quick kiss before hitting the button on the car fob to unlock the doors. Opening hers, he waited for her to slide into the vehicle. Then Con made it halfway into the car before he had to use the controls to move the seat back.

“Sorry,” she said.

“For what? Being cute and short?”

She let her mouth drop open in disbelief. “I’m not short. I’m five-foot-seven.”

“From my point of view, that’s short. And cute.” Con started the car after he put on his seat belt. He looked at her and motioned for her to do the same. “Safety first.”

After she grabbed the belt and secured it, he pulled out into traffic, and she was happy to notice he had no problem at all driving on the left side of the road. “I had so much fun today. I think the last time I laughed this hard was at my sister’s wedding.” She leaned back into the plush interior of her car.

“You’re close?” he asked as he merged into traffic on a busier road.

“Yes and no. She’s really independent and always has been.” She smiled. “I’m closer to my little brothers, actually. Twins who are now towers of testosterone.” She shook her head. “I remember them hiding in the woods at home when I was a child. They’d spring out and chase me. Thankfully, the torture and chase phase of their childhood went by quickly.”

“Maybe for you, but speaking as a brother, they probably still do that to each other. I know I harass my younger brother every chance I can get.”

“Why?”

“It’s my way of showing the little shit I love him.” He shrugged.

She thought about it for a moment and then laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a method of affection, but I’ll default to the male’s perspective in this case. The comm system has been blissfully quiet.”

Con groaned, “Hopefully, you didn’t just jinx it.”

“Do you believe in jinxes and superstitions?” She turned to look at him. “I took you for more of a logic-based person. Science and data and nothing more.”

“Not at all. I believe in luck and bad juju, and I’m superstitious.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “It was luck or fate that put me at that gala in the exact position to catch you as you tripped over me.”

She looked up and shook her head. “Not my most graceful moment.”

“Best moment of my life.” He squeezed her hand and winked at her.

“You need to turn here.” She pointed to the upcoming exit.

“Crud. Right.” He put on his blinker and merged. “My mind was elsewhere.”

They chatted about nothing, which seemed to follow the same path they’d used all day. The conversation was fun and nothing too serious or deep. She liked his quick wit and charm. He was a kind person, which was evident when he dealt with the wait staff at the restaurant they’d chosen for dinner. Her father had always told her how a man deals with service people, like waiters, said volumes about how he treated everyone. Con’s interactions were polite and attentive, and he tipped them well.

She told him where to park the car, and they walked hand in hand to her apartment. She gave him the key, and he opened the door for her. “I’ll be back. Do you want a drink?” she asked as she headed back toward her room.

“Maybe a small one. I don’t know what’s waiting for me on the computer.” He put her keys on the table by the front door.

She spun around. “You check on that, and I’ll be back in a minute or two.” She closed her bedroom door and drew a deep breath. “Okay, don’t chicken out now.” She’d been thinking about it since her comment to him when he’d called to ask her to see London with him. She whipped off her T-shirt, secured her weapons in her walk-in closet, and stripped down. After taking an impossibly quick shower, she put on lotion and then a silky, dove gray nightgown with a matching robe. She brushed her hair out quickly and headed out to the living room and the bar to pour two drinks. She glanced down at her tumbler and lifted it to her lips, taking a large sip. The liquid burned on the way down, and she shuddered, but it helped with the butterflies.

She picked up both tumblers and walked quietly into the library. Con was bent over his computer typing furiously. She walked behind him and watched as the screen on his computer ran through a multitude of images. She leaned over and put his drink down. He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. “Thanks.”

Her hair fell over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

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