Страница 249 из 349
Her skin shines with moisture. Her cheeks are flushed. She looks different. Unguarded. Fucking tempting.
She crouches before the duffel on the floor, dropping the towel from her hair beside her before she shifts through clothes to pull out underwear, then a gray shirt and shorts. Pajamas. But she does it all with her left hand, while the right arm remains tucked against her chest.
That sore shoulder of hers is more than a pulled muscle.
She’s hurt, and I don’t appreciate not knowing the extent of her injuries.
I squint, trying to get a better view of the skin around her right collarbone. The pixilation doesn’t give a pristine image; it’s slightly blurred up close, and yet I can still see the darker tinge to the flesh on her shoulder.
“Pulled muscle, my ass.”
She stands, throwing the clothes to the bed, then reclaiming the underwear.
I know what comes next, and I don’t bother to look away. I don’t spare a thought for her privacy as she drops the second towel, exposing a flawless body. Smooth legs. Flat stomach. Pert, delectable tits with dark, beaded nipples.
She leans over and toes her feet into the white, silken panties, shimmying them all the way up those toned thighs to cover the trim patch of hair at her mound.
Next she grabs the gray shirt, pulling the material over her head. Then the short shorts that she yanks on to settle over her hips.
Either she hasn’t discovered the pinhole cameras hidden within her room, or this unrestricted show is deliberate. A taunt. Does she expect me to be the pervert who watches her undress? Does she assume I’m a deviant like my father?
Fuck her.
My surveillance is entirely cautionary.
I need to be aware of her location at all times. I have to keep a close eye on her.
It’s fucking necessary.
It’s… “Fuck.”
I slam the Mac closed and shove it to the far side of the mattress as I slink farther down the bed.
My father is the pervert. The deviant. Not me.
So why the hell am I walking in his footsteps with fucking brilliant precision?
I understand him in this moment. I get his perversions because even now, with the threat of becoming him a heavy weight over my conscience, I still have to fight not to take another look.
I’m being driven by weakness. Haunted by temptation. I’ve become what I despise and it’s all her fault.
Anissa has me coiled tight. She drives my thoughts out of control. She makes me question everything.
I’m begi
Decker warned me about this. He told me she was a snake. A viper. A fucking bitch.
She’s sneaky. Manipulative. Smart.
But not smarter than me. Or stronger.
I haven’t lost this battle.
Not yet.
I don’t hear from her for the rest of the night. There’s only the faint fall of Luca’s footsteps down the hall, then nothing until I wake mid-morning from a broken sleep and find her door still closed.
I force myself not to pause and listen. Instead, I make a beeline for coffee and find the kitchen spotless.
Luca cleaned the glass from the floor and the splatter from the cupboards. It’s as if I never lost my temper, despite the memory of the weakness nagging at me.
I sit outside for hours, reclined on a pool lounger while I get to work replying to e-mails from my legitimate businesses. It’s close to lunch when my cell rings and Hunter’s name stares back at me from across the screen.
“What is it?” I ask in greeting.
“Rumor has it you went on a date with our least-favorite FBI agent the other night.”
“And?” The animosity that faded overnight begins to rear its ugly head. I don’t fucking get it. One mention of Anissa and I’m ready to break skulls.
“I want to know if I should be shutting down the claims or letting them fly. I don’t give a shit where you shove your dick; all I need to know is if you want the crazy news public.”
“I’m not shoving my dick anywhere.” My nostrils flare with renewed aggression. I shouldn’t need to justify myself. “If anyone dares to comment, let them know I’m working her over. I’m bringing her to our team.”
“That’s a tough feat if we’re talking about the same woman Decker has been bitching about.”
“Are there any other opinions you’d like to share before I hang up?”
“Well, seeing as though you asked,” he growls, “I’d appreciate being told where the fuck you are. You don’t usually disappear without letting me know the details.”
He doesn’t need the information, and I shouldn’t bother telling him. But my mouth opens, and the taunting admission grates between my teeth. “Greece.”
Silence follows my answer, the tense void building with the passing seconds.
“Torian—”
“Don’t start,” I warn. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Too bad,” he snarls. “Why the fuck aren’t I there with you? You need me.”
I let out a scoff. “I’ve learned that your presence isn’t as fundamental as I once thought.”
“Fuck you.” Anger drips from his tone. “Are you seriously going to do this without me? Is that chump Luca there instead?”
“Focus on recruitment,” I demand. “You’ve got more important work to do in Portland.”
“Fuck—”
I disco
Hunter knows exactly why I’m here. My i
I place the cell back in my jeans pocket and navigate my Mac to the surveillance feed from Anissa’s room.
She’s awake, seated on the floor, her back against the wall, her head in her hands. She isn’t crying. Her shoulders don’t shake. But her turmoil is clear. She still hasn’t come to terms with her situation. Who knows if she ever will.
I let the sight of her sink into me, becoming more mesmerized with each passing minute.
I note everything. The messy light wave to her short hair. The loose-fitting red top that covers her shoulder injury from view.
She’s wearing tight, black pants, cut off below the knee. Those active-wear type things that make me think she plans on exercising.
Ru
From me.
The thought creates a dull throb behind my sternum. I don’t know whether it’s inspired by pleasure or disappointment. Fighting with her is such a contradiction. I enjoy every minute, and hate it all the same. I want her anger, yet there’s frustration and fucking guilt there, too.
We’re not so different.
We both cling to strong values. We’re governed by strict rules. We would fight to the death for what we hold dear.
We just happen to believe in completely opposing views.
“Boss.” Luca walks from the open doorway looking like shit in nothing but navy shorts. “I gather you spoke to Hunt.”
“About ten minutes ago. Why?”
“He called.” He wipes a hand down his sleep-roughened face, then scratches his fingers across stubble almost growing into a beard. “He isn’t too happy about me being here.”
“He needs to get used to taking on a different role.” I focus back on the computer and find Anissa’s head resting against the wall, her emotionless face on display as she stares blankly across the room.
Luca slumps onto the lounger beside me. “That’s pretty much what I said.”