Page 17 of Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Seven

Rae

The tell-tale beepof the security door chirped three times before it opened, and Ash stood in the doorway dressed head to toe in black. Striding purposefully into the apartment, he told me the plane was fueled and ready to go whenever Iwas.

I’d expected him sometime around six o’clock, but he was a bit early. I was still sorting through my belongings, trying to figure out what I’d take and what I’d leave behind. I tossed a long-sleeved shirt on top of the pile that was slowly building into a mountain of clothes inside my luggage. I hadn’t the foggiest idea what was appropriate to pack when hiding out from one’s lunatic stalker. It was shallow of me to think about my wardrobe at a time like this, I knew, but caring about my appearance was something ingrained in me from all my time in the spotlight. The problem was, most of what I had with me wasn’t really made for being on thelamb.

I threw a sequined skirt into the “leave” pile—I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be necessary where I was going—and picked up a pair of faded gray sweats that I’d practically lived in while in rehab. When I’d gotten out, I vowed they’d never touch my skin again. I shot them across the room, basketball style, into the garbage bin. Then, picking up a pair of soft black yoga pants, considered their practicality. Dressing down for me was designer skinny jeans and a blouse.

“Is there a gym where we’re heading?” I asked. I still didn’t know where we were going. McClintock had explained that was for everyone’s safety. I’d been annoyed when he’d basically said me I wasn’t trustworthy enough to keep my location a secret from my would-be killer, but afterward, I could see his point.

“Of course,” Ash replied quickly, as if I’d asked a perfectly obvious question.

Then again, all the McCormick employees I’d met—including the older man himself—had hulking muscles. Those didn’t just magically appear by sitting around all day reading the newspaper. They worked for them, and as much time as they spent on the job, their safe houses were likely equipped with all the necessary equipment to keep their bodies in prime physical condition.

“Okay, then,” I said, rolling the pants into a ball and tossing them into my suitcase. “Give me another ten minutes and I should be finished,” I called over my shoulder, shocked to see Ash standing close enough to reach back and touch.

His eyes were focused on a sheer black top that had been sitting at the back of my closet for quite some time. The team who’d packed up the last of my belongings had brought every item of clothing I’d ever owned, including this one. Ash blinked, and then his eyes met mine. “You were wearing that the night we met.” He brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Or something likethat.”

I picked it up and stroked my fingers over the ornate neckline. The collar, made up of several different sizes of pearls and sparkling costume jewels, was removable but I loved the way it looked against the gauzy fabric so I always left it on. A little bit of elegance against the blatantly sexual nature of the see-through material.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” I admitted, looking up at him. “To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about that night.” I dropped the shirt on the “leave” pile.

I jumped when Ash’s hands came to rest on my shoulders. He stepped closer and I swore I could feel the heat of him against my back. “But you remembered my face when I walked in.” When his warm, cinnamon-tinted breath hit my neck I suppressed a shiver. “That tells me you remember at least someofit.”

Unable to find my voice, I bowed my neck forward, desperate to feel his lips on my skin, just below my ear. He was right. I remembered some of it. Like the fact that this was the first place he’d kissed and it had set in motion a yearning I hadn’t experienced before—not even with the man I’d married and assumed I’d spend the rest of my life loving.

Ash let out a satisfied chuckle. “Yeah, you remember.” His hands skated over my arms until his fingers encircled my wrists. “I kissed you here,” he whispered against my skin, but he didn’t kiss me. His mouth hovered over the slope of my shoulder. “I bit you heretoo.”

Dear god, I was shaking. I wanted so badly to feel his teeth on my skin, to have that wicked, knowing mouth sink into my flesh and brand me as his. “Do it, please.”

“I shouldn’t,” he whispered against my neck, the tone of his voice suggesting he was struggling with his attraction as much as I was. “It’s not right.”

To fuck with what’s right, I thought. I wanted him and I hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time. I wanted this. Onlyhim.

“Who’s going to tell? Besides, aren’t I paying your salary?”

He chuckled and released my wrists. I almost wept at the loss of contact until I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me back into him. There was no mistaking the thick, hard erection pressing against my bottom. “You calling me your whore?”

I stiffened at his use of that word. Hearing him say “whore”—the man who I’d fucked and then walked away from, the man who’s name I’d only learned as he’d walked out the door with the smell of our sex still lingering in the air—broke something loose inside of me. I squirmed and tried to break free of hishold.

“Oh shit,” he muttered, immediately loosening his grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meanthat.”

“I know,” I told him once I’d shimmiedaway.

I knew he hadn’t been calling me a whore, but I couldn’t control my reaction. Just like I couldn’t control the way my heart sped up when he’d shown me he understood why such an innocuous statement triggered me. I didn’t want to talk about any of it though, so I tried to put him off. “It’s fine. I know what you meant.”

“Do you?” he asked, his steady gaze locked on mine until I was forced to glanceaway.

“Like I said, it’sfine.”

He took a tentative step toward me, as if he wanted to touch me again but didn’t dare. “I don’t believeyou.”

“That’s the beauty of our situation. You don’t have to believe me. You just have to protect me,” I said, my voice taking on a snide quality I hated. I only got like this when I felt cornered. It was something I’d tried working on in therapy, but some habits were far too ingrained in a person to be remedied after only a few months.

“You’re right,” he said, taking a step back. Ash’s voice turned stiff and formal. “My apologies. I won’t let it happen again.” Then he adjusted the fall of his coat and flicked his cuffs. “I’ll be outside. Holler when you’re ready and I’ll send someone up to get yourbags.

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