Page 44 of Three Steps Behind

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to throw up on your carpet.”

“I wasn’t asking about that.”

“No?” She smoothed the washcloth. “Please don’t say you care an ounce about me. You only want to get your man. You couldn’t care less about me, and we both know it, so don’t play the doting agent.”

Harsh, but it was the truth, and she wasn’t playing at another relationship that wasn’t real. She was his informant, and he was her safety net. At least she’d let him think so, and then she’d get the heck out of dodge.

It was too much. They couldn’t ask her to do this. She wanted nothing to do with Dalton—not anymore. Couldn’t play along like all was good. The thought of who he really was quirked her stomach. She swayed in the chair.

“Whoa!” Aubry braced his hands on her arms, holding her firm. “Just relax.”

“Relax? I just learned my boyfriend has sex slaves, deals drugs, and ordered a woman killed.”

His eyes widened. “You heard him order a woman killed?”

She nodded and regretted the motion as the room spun faster.

“Do you know who . . . when . . . where?”

She shook her head again, and again regretted it. Why couldn’t she just sit still?

“Let me get you some water.” He straightened and moved for the bathroom, returning a moment later. “Here,” he said, holding a cup up to her face.

“I’ve got it.” She took it from him. She was being a pip, all right, but how could they expect her to play nice with Dalton now that she knew the truth about him?

Aubry stood over her, hands braced on the back of his hips.

“You don’t have to hover. I’m not going anywhere.” Yet.

“Did Dalton see you? Hear you? Anything?”

“He didn’t see me. He mentioned the side door being unlocked but assumed the housekeeper must have done it.”

“Smart going over the fence.”

“Thanks.” She took a sip from the cup, letting the cool water run down her parched throat.

He offered her a mint.

She took one from the metal tin in his hand. “Thanks.” Why was he being kind to her? Because he wanted something from her. They always did.

“And you’re wrong,” he said, slipping the tin back into his pocket.

“About what?”

“That I don’t care about you.”

“Huh?”

“I care about my informants. For goodness’ sake, I hunted you for more than a year. I know you. I know the reaction you just had was real. I care for the people in my protection.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Okay, she was being a witch. It wasn’t his fault she’d been Dalton’s fool.

“You’ve got a viper’s tongue at times, you know that?” He stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Apologize. Apologize? Where had that come from?

“You play tough, and you are tough, but not in the way that you think.”