Page 64 of Greed
“Okay, so if I was the imposter, would I be able to do this?”
The metal buckle on her thigh holster wobbled, tickling her skin, sending shivers up her spine from the intimate touch. She gasped. Second by second, her apprehension melted.
“I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” He turned her around to face him. “Honestly, you can check me for a gun if that will help convince you.”
He held his arms wide, leaving himself vulnerable to an attack. Not that she had anything left to attack with.
“Check me.”
If she frisked him and found no weapons, would it matter?
Would she feel safe?
The questions tumbled in her mind as she looked him over. He was a full head taller than her, broad shouldered and buff. Strength incarnate.
Even with a man as soft as Donnie, she knew her limits when he decided to force her in the bedroom. He never followed through with his threats, but he liked to remind her that he was stronger. There were times he’d tied or held her down and delighted in her struggles, saying that the excitement made the sex better.
There were times she’d felt terrified and helpless.
She had no doubt that underneath Greed’s leather was a body made for war. There were many straps and pockets on his suit. Places weapons could hide. But the more she looked at him, the more reason pushed her fears away. This man before her wasn’t the man who shot Nathanial, nor the one who killed in the warehouse. He was a hero who put himself in danger, for no pay, no regard, and constant attacks from the media.
And there he was, protecting her, keeping her safe. Still, she’d feel better if he wasn’t hiding behind that scarf and hood. If he wanted her trust then he had to reciprocate.
“Show me your face,” she demanded.
“You’re a reporter. I can’t do that.”
“You know who I am?”
After a beat of stern scrutiny, he said, “I’ve read your articles.”
“Oh.” A blush hit her cheeks and suddenly, she remembered something. She’d left her spy-phone in there, and… “Oh shit. My father!”
Greed dipped his head and touched his finger to his ear. “Status update on the hostage.” His eyes locked onto her as he listened to the relay. “Copy that. I’m with… the woman. I’ll see her home safely.” He dropped his hand and stared.
Well, that confirmed it. The imposter worked alone. This man had friends. As soon as the notion hit her, excitement skipped up her spine, and she saw embarrassing flashes of her vision board with the kissy-hearts. Thank goodness he’d never seen it.
“Is my father okay?” she asked.
“He is alive.”
“Where is he?”
“My colleagues have the situation under control. The imposter is in our custody, and your father will be handed to police.”
Relief closed her eyes, and she fell back against the wall. At least he wasn’t about to be murdered. She should feel relieved, but she wasn’t. Something nagged at the edges of her mind and she couldn’t quite pick it up. Her journalist instincts were telling her to keep pushing, keep investigating her father, the pictures, and those men out there. The imposter Greed turned up for the second time in relation to her family. She could have died.
All those bullets firing at her.
The weight of realization hit her and made her legs wobble.
Greed caught her by the elbows, steadying her.
She should open her eyes.Open your eyes, Lilo. But she couldn’t. He was there. The heat of him enveloped her like a comforting blanket.
“You saved my life,” she breathed.
She owed him everything.
