Page 112 of Always Been Mine

“We’ll actually have to involve the FBI and Homeland Security on this one since it’s on U.S. soil,” Viktor said. “I’m sure the CIA will have to work intel on the Russian buyer. Tim is mining the data right now.”

“This would mean a POTUS brief,” Porter muttered. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

Gabe pushed back from the wall and walked over to where Beatrice was talking to Travis. She looked at him questioningly when he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

Travis cleared his throat and grinned knowingly. He stood up, squeezed Gabe on his shoulder, and muttered that he was going to look for Caitlin.

“You okay? Dizzy?” Gabe asked.

“My head hurts.”

“You’ve got an egg-size lump on the back of your head.”

“After all the craziness of the past few months, it’s nothing.”

“Zach Jamison is dead. I killed him,” Gabe stated flatly. “He was tied to a chair and I slit his throat.”

Beatrice closed her eyes, and for a brief moment, Gabe was afraid of what he would see in them.

When she opened them, they were hard. “What prompted you to kill him right then?”

“He threatened you. I couldn’t turn him over to anyone else knowing he’d send someone after you again.”

Beatrice didn’t say a word, just nodded.

“I can’t change who I am, babe. I’ll always be ruthless when it comes to you,” Gabe added. “I would kill for you, no hesitation. Anyone who threatens your life is dead.”

“I wasn’t saying anything, because the first thing I felt was relief.” She released a weary breath. “I’m also feeling guilty because right after they cut me, I wanted to tell you to hunt down whoever did this to me and kill them all. It frightened me, the violence and anger consuming me, though eventually they faded. It doesn’t mean I’m not glad he’s dead. If that makes me an evil person, so be it.” Her eyes searched his. “If that makes us two of a kind, so be it. There are no rainbows and unicorns in our world, Gabe, especially yours. You’ve seen too much of its evil that in order to fight evil you had to become like it. I fully accept that part of you.”

“I know how lucky I am; I don’t deserve you.” He held her gaze. “You’re brave, smart, incredibly beautiful—”

“Don’t forget, I give good head,” Beatrice said in a hushed whisper.

Gabe choked on his chuckle, caught unaware by his woman’s sass even after she nearly got blown up. She never ceased to amaze him.

“That you do.” He tipped her chin up to look at him. “You know I’m never letting you go, right?”

“If that’s your version of a proposal, Gabriel, that sucks.”

He could see her sudden nervousness through her sass. He knew they would have to compromise between her aversion to being tied down and his consuming desire to make her irrevocably his. He needed to show her that he had a life outside of her, but she needed to accept that she was the center of hisworld. “It’s not. When I finally ask to you to be my wife—take note, that’s when and not if—you will know.”

“Is that so?” Beatrice’s brow arched, but her lips were tipped in a genuine smile.

This was promising, so he added, “Yup. You might as well start picking paint colors and furniture for the house.” He remembered how Beatrice was so animated discussing home decorating shit with Caitlin. He wanted that enthusiasm channeled for them.

“Wait . . . Uh, what house?”

“Mine. I’m not living in your fucking condo. I doubt Rhino would like it, and I’m not doing this ‘your place or mine’ bullshit.”

“I need time—”

“You’re moving in right after you get checked out by Dr. Ryan. We’re packing your shit. It’s moving next to mine, and you’re sleeping in my fucking bed. I’m not sleeping under a damned canopied one.”

“Whoa there, buster.” Beatrice looked more dazed than earlier and Gabe felt guilty. “No ragging on my beautiful bed. But I agree, you’d look silly under all those frills.” Her green eyes were luminous. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you? Officially?”

“Yes. We got sidetracked with that discussion because of your silly concerns about my job choices,” Gabe said. “I agree, I wouldn’t be your most effective bodyguard long-term, but I’ve been offered a job as an instructor at the Farm before. I’m sure they’d have no problem accepting my application.”

The Farm was the CIA’s training facility.

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