Page 26 of A Shot in the Dark
Chapter 9
“Sit,” he commands, and I do. “We should have a little time now with them out cold and you back inside.Shit. Thank god I didn’t need to draw the gun…” He mumbles something like, “Only temporary… Got no fucking choice…” as he takes off his coat, folding it in half with military precision before setting it gently on the back of the room’s second chair. His fingers start to work the buttons of his vest open and I can’t help but gawk.
“You said the uniform stays on…”
He heaves out a sigh. “Yeah.”
“It’s in the ground rules.”
“Yeah,” he says, a certain resignation to the word. “Unfortunately, today’s little bathroom break and getting attacked by your random and would-be rapists has made an unfortunate aspect of our situation obvious. You’re in a precarious situation, princess, whether you know it or not.”
“I know it.” I roll my eyes. “I have a fucking stalker.”
He snorts. “Yeah, a few days difference and you would’ve definitely had afuckingstalker…” He shakes his head. “I’m notdropping you off anywhere when you’re like this. It wouldn’t be right. You’re not?—”
“—myself.”
His shoulders slump. “Yeah,” the word tumbles out of him. “I’m royally fucked.” He throws back his head and laughs. “Jesus—literally royally fucked. I can’t kill you, I can’t deliver you, but I also can’t be on guard 24/7. A man’s gotta sleep. So I need to take a different tack—engage a new strategy. Huntsman Protocol be damned.”
“Huntsman Protocol?” I remember the phone call I overheard. Other than that, I’ve only heard “huntsman” used in fairy and folk tales. Like Snow White.
The huntsman didn’t start as her protector…
“Fuck. Forget I said that. Getting sloppy.” He flexes his hand and winces. “Forgot how much it hurts to punch a kindred.”
“Kindred?”
“Fuck,” he repeats.
“Forget you said that too?”
He slides out of his vest, folds it just as neatly and sets it on top of his coat, saying, “Please.”
Even as I’m scrambling out of my skirt, the single word hits me. “Please?” I wonder aloud, awed. “I didn’t knowpleasewas part of your vocabulary…”
“Shit. I’m going on too many hours without sleep, princess. Back in training and on operations that was to be expected, but I’m just a driver now. I’m not perfect.” He rubs his face. “I need to mark you. To make you—for all appearances to the wild bits of those men with wild in them—mine.”
Before I can get a word out, he holds up his hand to silence me, wincing as he does.
“However, because of…circumstances…it can only be temporary. That’s perfect because this is only meant to be temporary.”
I feel my eyebrows tug together. “I want to understand.”
“No,” he states firmly. “You don’t. My world? It’s not awesome for you. Hell, it’s not awesome for me either. Let’s get this done. Time is of the essence.”
Something in his tone strikes to the core of me. “You really don’t want to do this…”
“It’s complicated,” he murmurs. “It’ll keep you safe for a couple days, and let me get a chance to sleep. Get a smoke break. A shave. Might even tamp down that raging desire in you…” he muses almost sadly.
“So you won’thave tofuck me so much?”
“Yeah…” He sighs. “Maybe. Shit.” He pauses, stares at something in a distance I’m not privy to. “To do this I need your consent.”
“My safe word is—” I begin and he gives a dark chuckle.
“Not this time, princess. I need you to consent to being mine—temporarily.” He takes off his belt. There’s no sudden and exciting snap in the motion, he just does it the way he’s probably done it almost every day of his life. The little bit of brow I can see between the top of his glasses and the bottom of his cap’s brim furrows. “Seven days should do the trick.”
I look at him blankly.
