Page 11 of Once a Killer

“Only a couple of minutes.”

“I know exactly how long it was,” she said, rolling up her yoga mat. “I’ll work out in my room from now on.”

He took a step forward, as if trying to stop her, then backed up. Shoved his hands into his pockets. “I heard sounds coming from the living room and wondered what was going on.”

She scanned his body slowly. Lingered. Hoped she’d made him as uncomfortable as he’d made her. “Did you go to my room to wake me up? Which was what you should have done if you heard unusual noises.”

His gaze skimmed her body. Looked away. He shook his head.

“So you knew it was me. Yet you came to watch me anyway.”

“Bree, wait,” he said. She shoved his hand away and went into her room.

Closed the door, put her equipment away, grabbed clean clothes and hurried into the bathroom. Closed and locked the door before she stripped and stepped beneath the hot water.

Was Jameson Ford going to be a problem? Would she have to call Mel and tell her to send someone else? She’d been forced to do that one other time, and she’d hated it. But that principal had been a handsy asshole, and she’d known he wasn’t going to stop. Mel sent a man to guard him, andshe’dneeded a long hot shower to feel clean again when she got back to the compound.

Fifteen minutes later, she exited the bathroom and carried her dirty clothes into her room. Made sure her guns -- both the shoulder holster and the ankle holster -- were secure and slid her knife in its sheath beneath the waistband of her pants. Then she left her room. Headed for the kitchen and a cup of coffee.

Jameson was leaning against a wall, sipping from a dark blue mug. When she walked in, he set his mug on the table. Turned to face her.

He looked as serious as she’d seen him since she arrived the previous night. Regret dimmed the blue of his eyes. “Hey, look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I invaded your privacy.” He began to reach for her hand. Froze. Dropped his hand back to his side. “I had no business watching you do your exercises. Forgive me for being an ass? I won’t do it again.”

She held his gaze for a long moment. “If you do,” she said, “I’ll have Mel and Dev send another agent to protect you.”

He held up both hands. “Believe me, I won’t go near the living room if you’re working out in there. I invaded your privacy, and I’d hate it if someone did that to me. But…” He licked his lips. To his credit, he held her gaze. “I didn’t know the human body could move that way. I know it was inappropriate. Wrong. But…” He glanced away. “I couldn’t look away. The way your body moved was mesmerizing. Doesn’t excuse what I did, though.” His cheeks and the tips of his ears were red.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice stiff.

“You want coffee?” he said, lunging toward the complicated-looking machine on the counter. “Let me get you a cup. What do you want? Cappuccino? Latte? Espresso? Or just a plain old Americano?”

“Coffee. Cream,” she said. “That’s it.”

He waved her toward the table as he pulled a lever on the fancy coffee machine. He yanked his hand away, spilling coffee on the floor. Set the mug down and ran cold water over his fingers. He’d burned them on the steam.

After wiping up the spilled coffee, he said, “I’m going to make an egg sandwich with avocado and cheese. You want one?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Thanks.”

The silence between them was awkward as he made the sandwiches. It eased as they ate, but she didn’t want to leave this discomfort between them. It would affect their relationship and her ability to protect him. So she finished her sandwich, gulped coffee and said, “Tell me what security you have in your apartment besides the three locks on the front door. What protections you have. Because I’m sure you have plenty.”

He tilted his head. “Why are you so sure of that?”

“Because you’ve hired a bodyguard, for starters,” she said immediately. “Anyone who feels that’s necessary? He’s already secured his home and his workplace.”

Jameson nodded. “You’re right. My apartment is well-protected.”

Bree grabbed her notebook and opened it to an empty page. “Details.”

He leaned back in his chair, his coffee mug clutched between his hands. “I’m sure you noticed the three locks on the front door.”

She nodded. “I did. Was impressed, too. You have quite the assortment there.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “I like to cover all the bases. One lock is keyed. The second lock is digital. It requires a six-number code to unlock it. And the third lock is biometric. It scans my retina.” His eyes were flat. Hard. “Someone could use a lock pick on the first one. It would take some time, since it’s a high-quality lock, but it could be done. The second one would be tough. Lots of possible combinations of numbers.

“And the third? They’d need me and my retina to get into the place.”

“Or just your retina if they cut out your eye,” she pointed out.

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