Page 11 of Deceive Me
Aaand inserted his foot. Damn it.
Elliot’s back went rigid so fast he heard a distinct pop from her spine. Not the reaction he’d intended, but she wasn’t indifferent to him, at least. He worked to control his grin. Elliot was probably a typical female in many ways, but in this she was just like every other man he’d had under his command—being called a coward offended her. The look she shot him could’ve peeled paint off the walls. “Do I need to be?”
He released his grin. “Depends.”
She didn’t take the bait by asking him to explain. Instead she went back to studying the layout of the house.
“What do you think?”
Elliot stared at the sweeping staircase reminiscent of traditional Southern plantations. Deacon had added the feature after he’d bought the house, replacing a plain staircase that had hugged one wall and closed the space in too much for his liking. “I’m thinking we could use this to our advantage in the event of a security breach.”
Hmm. Well trained. And focused. What would that focus be like when it was on him and not his house?
His eagerness to find out surprised him, though given the fact that his dick had yet to subside, eagerness might be too mild a word.
“There are small hidden closets—cubbies, really—behind the staircase on each side,” he pointed out. “Easily accessible from the back of the house, for either observation or an ambush. The foyer and the upstairs landing area are both open for obvious reasons.” No one should be able to sneak in the front door and find cover, if they even managed to get past the three-foot-wide windows along either side and atop the doors without Deacon observing them.
“All this glass…”
A spark of ego lit inside him. “The windows here and in the back are coated with a special reflective film. We can see out, but no one can see in. I won’t give anyone leverage.” He was surprised she hadn’t noticed, but then he’d gotten the distinct impression from Dain that something pretty intense was going on between the two. The vibes coming off the team leader when he’d entered told Deacon he was unhappy for some reason. Were they involved?
No, Dain wore a wedding ring. Elliot didn’t. And they were on the same team. No way would Deacon put a married couple together, and he’d bet Jack wouldn’t either.
“I noticed,” Elliot said wryly. “I meant, what kind of glass?”
Now it was his turn to be offended. “Bullet-proof, of course.” What else?
“You designed this house for attack?”
He moved closer, just close enough to catch the warm female scent of her. Not flowers, definitely not perfume, just fresh, clean skin. “More habit than anything else. I certainly wouldn’t have brought danger home to my family if I could help it, but I’m not one to leave it to chance.” That was one of the reasons he hadn’t intended to have children until he left the field, but Julia had been impatient. Or maybe they really had been careless as she’d claimed. He’d always suspected that she became pregnant on purpose during that short vacation in Sydney between missions, but once his daughter had arrived, why she’d been conceived no longer mattered. Sydney was the center of his world. And now that Julia was gone…if they had waited much longer, there would’ve been no children for them at all.
Elliot’s snort cut his mental trip down a rabbit hole short.
“What?”
“If your intention was to not bring danger home to your family, you really fucked up, didn’t you? Mansa’s about the worst danger you could imagine.”
“Granted. But it wasn’t a fuckup.” He tried to keep the bite from his voice but didn’t quite succeed.
Elliot didn’t seem offended—or intimidated. “No?”
“No.” He realized he was stalking toward her about the time her shadow reached his boots. “If it’s a choice between bringing danger to my daughter and letting that bastard rape a second eighteen-year-old defenseless girl, I’ll stick by my decision. One child destroyed on my watch was one too many.”
With the sun behind her, Elliot’s eyes were shadowed, hard to read, but he felt their intensity even if he couldn’t see it. That same intensity echoed in her voice. “Mansa has always been death on women; Andre Diako was raised to it. Not that that’s any excuse.” Her mouth went tight, her tone deadly serious. “You don’t want him getting his hands on Sydney, Deacon.”
It was the first time she’d said his name. A shiver tingled down his spine. “No, I don’t—and he won’t. That’s what you’re here to help me prevent.”
She opened her mouth to answer, pulling his gaze down to the full curve of her lower lip. The growl of an engine outside the front door cut her off, followed by the harsh ping of gravel being thrown beneath abruptly braking tires. Deacon groaned.
“Looks like the rest of our backup is here,” he said before allowing himself a small retreat. If he stayed that close to Elliot, he wouldn’t be able to breathe—and Fionn would razz him endlessly over it. No way his best friend wouldn’t notice Deacon’s crazy reaction to this woman.
“The rest of our backup?” Elliot asked.
The front door opened. Deacon squinted against the harsh glare that left him momentarily blinded as Fionn slammed the door shut. A sharp wolf whistle split the air.
“Deac, you’ve been holding out on me. Who is this pretty wan?”
Elliot’s eyes widened, the first openly honest emotion he’d seen on her face since she’d walked in. Her shock shone plainly as she turned to take in Fionn’s appraisal of her ass. Deacon glowered at his friend as much as at the sudden urge to protect said ass from Fionn’s view. He should be focused on the situation, not jealousy or ego or, God forbid, lust. And yet he was helpless against all three, which only added an even harder edge to his words as he made introductions. “Fionn McCullough, meet Elliot Smith. Elliot, Fionn, my best friend and frequent embarrassment.”
