Page 11 of Falling Fast

“Fine. Anything else?”

Some of the tension in his gut eased. But yeah, there was one more thing he needed to know. “Do you trust me?” It was critical to him that she did. If she didn’t, he’d walk away from this whole assignment and have his boss replace him with someone else from the team. No matter how much he’d hate placing Charlie’s well-being in a teammate’s hands.

“Yes,” she answered, no hesitation.

Her response made him breathe easier. “Good.” She was his responsibility and he didn’t take that lightly. No matter what, he’d make sure she came out of this unharmed. He’d sworn it to Easton and now he’d vow it to her. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Something flickered in her eyes. A softness. Then it was gone and she was all focused energy again. “Okay.”

That brief glimmer of softness did things to him.

Charlie had an edge to her, and it was sharp enough to cut when she wanted it to. But he’d seen the sweetness in her too, along with the heat, and that rare show of vulnerability after she’d killed that shooter in the woods.

It had twisted him into knots to let her go that night, to walk away. She had no clue how badly he’d wanted to scoop her up right there at the farmhouse’s front door and take her to a hotel where they could be alone together, then strip off her clothes and comfort her with his body in the most elemental way there was.

All night long, until she trusted him on the deepest level possible and realized he was the one for her.

That’s ultimately why he’d left. He’d never felt this protective or territorial of any woman, and it jarred him.

“Good,” he answered.

Silence spread between them and he didn’t try to fill it. This job could take weeks. Maybe even longer, if Baker was suspicious. Did he have the strength to ignore the pull he felt toward her, when she stirred his deepest desires in a way no one else ever had?

Charlie lowered her arms and straightened in her seat, shifting her gaze to look out the windshield. “It’s a job, Jamie. Few weeks max, hopefully less. We’re both professionals. We’ll just have to make the best of it.” Without pause she gathered her purse and reached for the door handle. “See you tomorrow, bright and early so we can get started on our cover assignments.”

He didn’t stop her. Just sat there and let her go. It wouldn’t do him any good to call her back, and he’d said the most important things anyhow.

Releasing a sigh, he watched her walk across the well-lit lot to her car, that shapely ass swaying in those snug jeans, and struggled to rein in his thoughts.

Thoughts of her naked, under him. Bent over in front of him. On her back, tied to his bed, eyes glassy with lust, cheeks flushed, bare breasts heaving with each ragged breath she took while he showed her one more reason why he was worth going all in for.

So many times over the past seven months he’d imagined what sounds she’d make as he pleasured her, teased her until she was ready to beg. So many times he’d stroked himself off thinking of the look on her face at the moment she surrendered to him.

Shaking off the thoughts, he drew a deep breath, his gaze still following her over to her car. He waited until she slipped inside and drove away before starting the ignition. As he pulled out of the parking lot and headed home to his empty condo, he couldn’t shake the lingering unease settling in his chest.

If anything happened to her on his watch, he’d never forgive himself.

Chapter Four

“Thanks so much for lunch, Mr. Baker. I’ll speak with my lawyer and consider your offer carefully.”

Dean tamped down his impatience and pasted on a smile for his female lunch companion, seated across the table from him in the swanky Manhattan café he’d invited her to for this meeting. She wasn’t a businesswoman. Was way out of her depth with someone of his caliber.

Unlike her, he’d had to work for everything he had.

Ten years ago the newly rich little heiress might have been hot, with the right makeup and some implants to fill out the top of that designer dress. Now in her early forties, the signs of age were stamped all over her face. The crow’s feet and faint wrinkles forming in her cheeks ruined her looks completely.

“You do that,” he murmured, already planning his next move. He’d made a fair offer for the lakefront property. He wanted it bad. It was prime real estate, and with the project he had in mind, he could easily give his clients a safe place to invest their money where the feds would never find it.

When her miserly father had died and left her all his assets several months ago, including a parcel of undeveloped land worth fifty million easy, she’d gone from lower middle class, single mother of two, to filthy rich overnight.

Now she had nannies to drive her kids around, a maid to clean her new mansion and a personal chef to do the cooking. It was no secret she liked the high life she could now afford, dressing in designer label clothes and driving a brand new Tesla instead of the second-hand Ford she’d driven for the last eight years.

Dean knew, because he’d checked. He knew everything about her. He made a point of knowing everything about a target before ever establishing contact, in case he needed to use it later.

The woman set her napkin down and made to push her chair back, so Dean stood and quickly rounded the table to pull it out for her. She flashed him a startled smile, her cheeks flushing pink.

Yeah, she liked the show of manners and wasn’t used to male attention. The ex she’d been married to for almost twenty years obviously had given up on romancing her long ago. Maybe if she’d put a little more effort into maintaining her looks and body, he would have tried harder.

---