Page 56 of The Boss
He eased back, still inside her, and looked at her face. She was wrecked and beautiful, hair loose, lips swollen, eyes steady. She lifted a hand and pushed his hair off his forehead like they were on a couch after dinner and not wrecked on a desk.
It was several endless moments before she could bring herself to speak. “This doesn’t change anything,” she said quietly.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. It still did. He closed his eyes a second, opened them again. “It changes something.”
“It changes that we needed it.” She exhaled. “It changes that I wanted it. But it doesn’t change that you’re going to lock every door and call it love, or that I’m going to kick at them because Ineed windows open. It doesn’t change that I don’t think Rocco had the brains to do this, and that one of your own men did.”
He pulled out of her gently and stepped back, fighting the urge to drag her in again and make a liar of her mouth with her body. He caught her wrist before she could move away and retrieved a clean handkerchief, running it between her thighs with rough tenderness until she hissed and stilled, cleaned by his hand instead of her own. Only then did he fasten his belt with hands that wanted to shake and refused.
She slid off the desk and pulled her dress into place with the automatic motions of a woman who’d taught herself to walk out of rooms without giving anyone the pleasure of watching her flounder.
He found his jacket on the floor and held it out. She took it and shrugged in. The sight of his clothes on her had always done something to him he couldn’t name. It still did now, even with the chasm between them yawning wider.
For a beat, silence pressed between them. Then his voice came, quieter, stripped of the edge. “Why did you really leave my bed last night?”
Mariah looked down at the floor, then back at him. “Because if I stayed, Iwas afraid I’d stop being me and just become yours. And that terrifies me as much as it thrills me.”
He studied her, his expression hard, mouth drawn into a grim line. “You already are mine. But I don’t want you hollowed out. Iwant all of you—the fight, the fire. You walk out on me again, I’ll come drag you back.”
Her mouth curved in something halfway between anger and a smile. “And if I walk back in on my own?”
“Then I’ll know you chose me. And I’ll never let anyone take that choice away.” He paused, then added, “And I’ll still find out who planted that bomb. Rocco wasn’t smart enough to pull it off alone—if at all. One of my own men had a hand in it, and I’ll tear my house apart until I know who.”
Relief flickered across Mariah’s face. “So you see it, too.” Her voice softened, no longer combative. “For once we’re not on opposite sides of this. You know it wasn’t Rocco, not really. Or not without inside help. That means we’re looking in the same direction now, and not fighting each other over it.”
He studied her a long beat, as if weighing the ground they’d finally found in common, then let out a breath. “So if we agree it wasn’t Rocco, the question becomes—what next? What do you want to do? Right now.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I already told you. I want to go to my apartment and get my things.”
He nodded once. Decision slammed into place. “And I already told you that Tomas will take you.” He picked up his phone.
“Stop.” Mariah crossed her arms, bristling. “I don’t need a jailer.”
Leif’s stare grew hard and unyielding. “You’re not getting one. You’re getting my driver. There’s a difference—and you know it.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And that’s all he’s going to do? Drive me?”
Leif blew out a sigh. “He’ll shadow you, he’ll check your hall, he’ll stand at the door while you pack. He’ll put your boxes in the car. He won’t let anyone touch you.” His voice was clipped,methodical, as if reciting the rules of a contract she hadn’t agreedto.
“Is that really necessary?”
Leif’s gaze sharpened, afaint edge of steel cutting through the calm. “Yes. Because if he does everything I’ve said—shadows you, checks the hall, stays in the doorway, loads your things—then there are no cracks for anyone else to slip through. He answers to me and that’ll keep you safe.”
She stared at him, weighing the control in his tone against the grudging concession he was offering. After a long beat, her eyes softened just a fraction, though her mouth stayed firm. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to fight you anymore today.”
He made the call. “Tomas. Bring the car to the private elevator. Take Miss De Angelis to her apartment. Stay within her line of sight. If anyone she doesn’t want near her gets near her, put them down soft and call me.” He listened, then ended the call and set the phone down like he was setting a weapon on a table betweenthem.
Mariah took two steps toward the door and stopped. She looked back at the desk. At him. At their hands. Her palm lifted a fraction, as if some part of her wanted to reach for him and some other part slapped that hand away in her ownhead.
“Say it,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to ask for and he wasn’t sure what he was asking.
She shook her head. “Not now.” She touched the edge of the desk with her fingertips, almost a benediction, almost a warning, then turned and walked toward the privatehall.
The door whispered open. Tomas’s quiet knock followed, respectful, the exact sound Leif had heard a hundred times andnever thought about. He thought about it now. He thought about everything.
“Sir,” Tomas said from the threshold, eyes forward, posture perfect. “Car’s ready.”
Leif nodded without taking his eyes off Mariah. “Take care of her.”
