Page 19 of Bringing Chelsea Home

“My job,” Griff lowered his voice to a low, menacing rumble, “is to keep you safe. And not just safe, but alive. I can’t do that if you keep things from me, whether it’s about Big Daddy, that jack-ass Monty or anyone else you might be getting ready to help or is already involved, even a little bit. No secrets between us, Elaine. Got it?”

“Got it.” Elaine pitched her tone to match his. “It’s not like someone handed me a playbook on ‘what to do if someone is trying to kill you’ so I could read up on how to do or not do things.”

His gaze roamed over her, as if determining her strength of character. Whatever he saw, must have reassured him, because his tightly held mouth relaxed and for one insane moment, she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, good and hard.

And what he would do if she did?

“In your line of work,” he finally said, “has anyone ever attacked you or tried to harm you?”

“No,” she admitted. “And I’ve probably made lots of people mad over the years. But I do know we’re in a different and dangerous territory.”

“Am I being too tough on you?”

“No,” she said again. “I need to remember just how dangerous this is. And it’s not going to help us stop Big Daddy and The Cadre or find Chelsea and Martin–if they’re still together-and those girls if I do something stupid or don’t tell you if I learn something.”

He sighed and she could almost hear the relief in it as he curled his fingers around hers. It was a strong hand and she wondered how many times his hands had been forced to fire a weapon in combat or self-defense.

Hands that would no doubt, protect her at all costs and kill if he must.

“Those,” he said, “are not the words of a stupid woman. Just maybe one who’s had a whole lotta stuff happen to her since Monday. I’d need a playbook if it happened to me. Let’s just be sure all decisions we make are ones we make together, okay? No secrets.”

“Copy that,” she teased. “Isn’t that what Marines say?”

He chuckled and his chuckle was like a balm, soothing and warm. “Sometimes,” he agreed. “Now, that aroma of garlic and onions is driving me crazy with hunger. Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

“Copy that,” she repeated, standing to take his offered arm and head for the kitchen.

CHAPTER10

Friday morning

“Crap,”Griff muttered, his feet hitting the carpeted floor. Why the hell hadn’t his phone alarm sounded at its usual time of five-thirty? It was now, according to his old-fashioned watch, almost seven-thirty.

Of course, he’d been up well past midnight, working on his “business” website in case anyone atSapphires–or anyone else-tried to verify his claim of being an entrepreneur in the “adult entertainment” industry. He’d allowed others to use it before for undercover work, but he’d developed it. It was after two o’clock when he hit the sheets.

He grabbed his clean clothing from the chair in the corner and entered the bathroom he shared with Patrick. After a shower and shave-he loved the fog free mirror in the shower box-he toweled off and dressed. Cracking open the door to Patrick’s room, he called, “Shower is yours if you’re up.”

When there was no answer, he opened the door wider and peered inside. The double bed was so neatly made it looked as if no one had slept there, but that was typical of Patrick.

But there was no aroma of the dark coffee his friend preferred wafting from the kitchen, and concern tightened Griff’s stomach. It was well known among his buddies, not to speak to Patrick in the morning until he’d had his first cup of coffee. He never did anything before that and the Blue Mountain blend he preferred always perfumed any place where he made it. But there was no aroma at all.

Stepping into the hall, he stopped by the open door to Elaine’s room and found it was also neat and empty. His concern turned to a mild worry.

Don’t be an ass, Tyler. They’ve probably gone to the tech-room downstairs and there’s a coffee machine there. You need your own damn cup of coffee. They probably knew you were up late. Get your ass in gear.

In the kitchen, he put last night’s leftovers in the oven, made the coffee, and set the table. Elaine’s laptop was still there, and he hesitated about moving it. He poured a cup, while fighting the urge to call Patrick and ask him where the hell…

“read both Mandy Patinkin and Carey Elwes learned to fence so they could do that scene inThe Princess Bride.”Elaine’s voice floated from the living room.

“And true or not, it was a great scene.” Patrick’s voice moved closer to the kitchen and then he and Elaine, in full fencing gear stepped in, holding their masks and sheathed foils. “Good morning,” they chorused.

“Exercise before breakfast?” Griff said casually, trying not to stare at Elaine Prescott like some open-mouthed, hormone driven teenager. Her fencing togs fit her like a couture gown, showing every curve and muscle. With her exercise bright eyes and shining skin, she couldn’t have been any more desirable than if she’d stripped naked. She was dangerously sexy, and Griff silently chanted the old Scottish battle song Mac taught him to drive away any desires except to be victorious in battle.

Because the desire for Elaine Prescott was thrumming in his veins like a battle drum.

“Better to work out on an empty stomach,” Elaine said cheerfully. “Eating before slows me down. So, what’s on today’s agenda?”

“I thought we’d visitSapphire’s,” Griff said. “We need to find out more about the girls Elizabeth Burke told us might be the same ones Big Daddy and The Cadre are bringing in for the convention or if it’s another group.”

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