Page 104 of Girl in the Water
Chapter Eighteen
Ian
Daniela had left him in Brazil.What the hell?
As Ian sat on the plane, going home alone, his feelings must have shown on his face, because the flight attendants gave him a wide berth.
He’d meant to stay in Brazil for a few more days, go back to Rio, find Marcos Morais, and have a heart-to-heart, better yet, a fist-to-face, with the man. But Ian didn’t like the way Daniela had left.
He’d upset her. More than that—he’d hurt her. He had to make it right.
Since he hadn’t slept all night, he’d had time to think. He was trying to do right by Daniela, but she saw that as a rejection.
He had been a pretty big part of her life in the last couple of years. She had no family in the US and few friends, no wide network of support.
So, right now, Ian needed to go after her, spend a few days with her, iron things out between them, make sure she was okay. Make sure that she knew she was important to him, that he wanted her in his life, wanted to be in her life for as long as she’d let him. Romance…could not happen. But he was desperate to go back to the way things had been between them for the past four years.
While he convinced her, he’d file his reports at work,thentake a leave of absence and return to Brazil, finally bring Finch’s murderers to justice.
He wanted to track down Goat Man through Marcos Morais. He might even do some tracking from the US first, from the CPRU office where he had access to all kinds of international law databases. For the first time, he had a name, a place to start.
He would run searches, go back to Rio, take out Marcus Morais and Goat Man.
And if he followed this plan, Daniela and he could have a breather from each other too. Maybe she’d use the time apart to meet some nice young man.
Maybe it was for the best that she’d left him in Manaus. The solo flight gave Ian time to try to figure out what the hell to say to her.
Christ, when she’d dropped that towel.
Yes, she was a woman, dammit. Of course, he knew that. Of course, he responded to her. He wasn’t dead.
He wasn’t a conscienceless bastard either. He was too old for her, too jaded.
He planned on having that talk as soon as he got home, but when he finally walked through the door to their apartment, he found her packing. Not unpacking from the Brazil trip, but packing up everything.
She wore faded old jeans and a baggy T-shirt that covered nearly all of her, but he was still seeing her naked. What was wrong with him?
She had a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and was laying out clothes with the other.
He half expected her to throw the cup at him.
“You’re right,” she said instead, no high emotions in her tone, professionally cool. “I need to make my own life.” She put shoes in a bag. “I’m going to spend the night with Crystal. I just talked to her. There’s an empty studio apartment in her building. I’m going to rent it tomorrow.”
Ian dropped his backpack by the door, then walked into the living room, folded his tired body into his recliner, and just watched her, a mix of emotions flooding through him.
She paused the packing long enough to look at him. “You saved me from a terrible life. Then you brought me to the US and you gave me a wonderful new life here. But somehow, it’s all connected to you. You ended upbeingmy life. I need to make a life for myself.”
He nodded numbly.Exactly.Hadn’t he been trying to tell her the same thing forever?
Every word she said was true. Every word also hurt like hell.
He hadn’t thought about her moving out completely. But, okay, she was right. He couldn’t expect her to be independent of him and be unwilling to let her go at the same time. Of course, she had to make a life of her own. Of course, she couldn’t do it from his apartment. And yet…
Noand yet. He filled his lungs. “Let me know if I can help with anything.”
She flashed a half smile. “The whole point of independence is that I need to learn to do things without your help.”
Well, he hated the sound of that.
