Page 67 of Deceive Me
Except she hadn’t, had she? The birthday party in the cafeteria had been her doing. She’d tried everything she could to clear the area, including leading Deacon and Fionn away. So…hurting people hadn’t been her goal. That put her at odds with the enemy, but she’d done their bidding. Why?
Because she’d been trying to protect someone. A friend? Or maybe family? No, her family was clean, according to the file. So who?
Elliot looked up, skimming Fionn before coming to rest on Deacon. Worry darkened the brown of his eyes as he stared at his friend. Of the two of them, Fionn seemed to be taking this harder, though Elliot wasn’t sure why. Some subtext she wasn’t privy to, obviously. Something Deacon hadn’t shared.
They all had secrets.
The door to the conference room opened, admitting Commander Alvarez. The rest of the table stood, so Elliot did as well.
“Gentlemen.” The commander nodded in Elliot’s direction. “Ma’am.”
Elliot frowned, sitting when the others sat.
“Anything from Sheppard yet, sir?” Deacon asked as the commander took an unoccupied seat.
Alvarez’s mouth tightened. “Not as yet. Hicks says she’s in and out of consciousness right now. I’ve called in a team to go through her office and computers, get what data we can.”
Another knock. “I ordered some lunch for you all,” Alvarez said as the door opened again. Outside, a line of wheeled carts stood at the ready. Alvarez gestured them in.
The team members staggered from their seats. Elliot was the last, her mind still turning over the information about Sheppard, needing to fill the voids and wrap the woman’s motives up nice and neat in a pretty little box. She wasn’t aware of Deacon until her arm brushed his hard stomach.
A glance up showed a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”
“Would you mind taking Syd a plate? She keeps eyeing you like you’re the last doughnut and she can’t wait to get you all to herself. I’d rather not show her cannibalistic tendencies here.”
It was stupid to feel special because he’d asked her to care for his daughter. He’d trusted her with Sydney over and over again, and yet every time it took her by surprise, filled her with this zing of pleasure. “Sure.”
She would’ve stepped past him, but Deacon moved into her path, the wide spread of his shoulders blocking out everything but him. Here. Alive. Right in front of her. She couldn’t resist the urge to lay her palm on his heavy muscles, spread her fingers wide to soak in every bit of his heat, feel the thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat beneath her touch.
Deacon covered her hand with his, pressed it hard against him. Their gazes locked.
I’m glad you’re okay. I almost lost my mind when I couldn’t see you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
The words ran through her mind, but she managed to keep them off her tongue. Deacon helped when he bent to take her mouth. The room dropped away—her teammates, the commander, Deacon’s friends—and it was just the two of them and the heat that flared to life as he delved between her lips.
If this isn’t love, I don’t think love is what I want. This, Deacon kissing her, holding her, feeling something for her, no matter what it was—this was everything.
This was what she would lose if her father succeeded.
Deacon lifted just enough to allow her to breathe. “If you don’t get that dazed look off your face,” he murmured against her mouth, “I might have to sweep you away and have you all to myself.”
“What?” She licked her lips.
Deacon chuckled. “Maybe that wasn’t the best threat I could come up with.”
She shook her head absently, arrested by the look in his eyes, the happiness. How could he look like that when life dealt him one blow after another? When his daughter was in danger and a madman threatened his life? He wasn’t like her, would never be. Their lives—hers chaotic and terrifying, his stable and supportive—had shaped them. She stared into his amused gaze and knew, suddenly and painfully, that she didn’t just want him, she needed him. Needed to understand him and, God help her, learn from him. She’d never wanted to hand that kind of control over, ever, to anyone, but with Deacon? He could teach her so much, about how to live instead of just surviving. How to love. How to be normal, a family.
Her heart clenched. She brought a hand up to rub her breastbone.
Deacon’s fingers curled around the hand he still held against him. “You okay?”
She couldn’t choke out words, just a nod. Her attempt at a smile was probably as pitiful as it felt, but she tried. Before he could read far more than she was comfortable revealing, she walked toward the food, leaving him behind.
26
A soft click echoed through the room as the bedroom door closed behind him, but Deacon didn’t turn to see who it was. He couldn’t. All he could think about was what might’ve happened if he’d taken Sydney with him to see Trapper. He’d pushed the thought away all afternoon, refusing to let the downright terror gain a foothold, but now there was nothing to distract him. If he’d been carrying her in his arms, would Sheppard have warned them sooner? Would she have spared his child?
Just imagining it made him shake. He didn’t really care what Sheppard’s motives had been; she’d put his daughter in danger. There could be no mercy for that.
