Page 12 of Between the Lies

‘You were muttering something about Buckfast in weird places?’ he added when she didn’t say anything.

Oh hell! Had she just muttered that aloud? This was bad. The only other time she’d humiliated herself like this was back in college when she’d liked a guy. A guy she’d almost agreed to go seven times around the fire with…

Nina stuffed the tissue in her pocket. ‘Sorry, I-I guess the state of that building caught me off guard.’

The man waved his hands at her drying vomit. ‘I’m not judging you. Alcohol can be very helpful at times… And I can vouch for its uses, especially when grieving.’

Nina cocked her head. So his eyes didn’t lie. ‘You think I should get drunk?’

His gaze roved over her body, before settling on her face. ‘If you think you’d like to grieve and want some company, I’m game.’

Seriously? Drinking with a stranger? ‘Is this how you get dates? Finding women in lonely alleyways?’

A rumble rose from the man’s chest. It sound almost guttural and so fucking male. Nina’s nether regions spasmed. On any other man, such a noise would’ve been comical. On him though…

Another spasm. She swallowed and let her eyes fall on the building again. When you had the evidence of your crime in front of you, you didn’t need an anti-aphrodisiac.

‘You’re funny, woman. No, I haven’t been on a date in too long. And that’s not what this is.’

Nina raised both her eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Aye, this is a drinking trip.’ He took a step closer until his masculine scent – leather and wood polish – engulfed her. ‘I’ve been on something of a binge. It’s too boring to do it alone. Join me, and let’s drown the pain out.’

‘H-How did you know?’ Nina didn’t have to say any more. The man’s arm shot out, cradling her right elbow.

Despite the cold temperature, his touch felt like a fire crackling in the hearth after a long, stormy day outside. And his fingers, like the stubble on his face, scraped deliciously against her cheek.

His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I see loneliness in your eyes. And fear. Come on, love. Join me. Tonight, I’ve got you.’

Loneliness. He’d seen loneliness in her? No one else had ever bothered.

‘I’m not lonely.’

He took another step, and now he was close – so close his torso brushed against her chest. His other hand found her left elbow.

Nina leaned in, breathing him in, savouring the angular lines of his torso. He wore a dark grey jumper, yet she could almost feel the six-pack hidden underneath it.

‘I-I don’t even know your name.’

‘Shh,’ he whispered in her ear, leaning his cheek on top of her head. ‘Sometimes loneliness can be freeing. Embrace the fear and let go. At least for tonight, embrace the fear that when you die, no one would notice or care. And see where it leads you.’

Was he crazy? A man in an alley should be crazy. But he had also just read her mind – the thought that if she’d perished in that fire without a trace, no one would ever know or care had been strumming in the background for months.

Nina sighed and nodded, mind made up. It was time to let go of that fear. ‘Let’s embrace it. But just for tonight.’

CHAPTERSIX

What the hell was he doing?

Robert had never enjoyed hanging out in pubs to get shit-faced or to find women. Although hehadmet his late wife at a pub.

They’d been on four dates before they’d talked about a future together. Three months later, Robert had moved in with Anne, and five months later, they’d married in the City Chambers. End of. Anne had been deep in debt, and he’d been no better – a police constable’s salary only went so far. They each had one friend and no family. And neither of them liked the hullabaloo of weddings.

A few years later, here he was, widowed and sitting in the Counting House with a woman he’d picked up in a back alley. An alley behind the very building his wife had been murdered in. This situation had all the makings of a disaster, yet he stared at the woman sitting in front of him.

As a police constable, walking the beat, he met a lot of people. So he knew everyone displayed their emotions in different ways. Behaved in different ways. But he’d yet to meet someone whose eyes betrayed their true feelings like this woman’s did.

When he’d walked into that side alley, he’d seen the building before spotting her, leaning behind a pipeline. The expression on her face – loneliness and utter vulnerability – had tugged at something in him. So his goal had shifted from investigating to just being there for this woman. If there was one thing Dickheadson had got right, it was that Robert worked well with emotions. For him, being a cop meant serving the city that had given him so much support.

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