Page 67 of Missile Strike

There were nights he’d lain awake counting the days until he could leave.

Losing his sister had hurt like hell, especially because a part of him had felt relief when she died, then guilt for feeling it at all.

Bella.

He spotted the elastic on the floor, the one Bella had knocked loose when she’d buried her fingers in his hair, and bent to retrieve it.

She’d been his weakness back then.

His gut twisted.

She was his weakness now.

And his client.

Hell, he didn’t spend time thinking about any of the women he’d been with, not even Consuela, the smoke show he’d named his damned car after. Like he’d told Bella, that had been a no-strings, good-times relationship.

Easy.

What he felt for Bella? He didn’t know what to name it, but it sure as hell wasn’t easy.

Stepping inside, he automatically scanned the room.

Trip sprang up from where he’d been snoozing.

“Hey, buddy.” Danny gave the dog a quick pat. “Where’s your mama?”

“Here.” Bella rounded the corner, laundry basket in hand, eyes wary.

He straightened.

Donned his professional mask.

“I have some work to do. Any plans for this evening?”

“That you need to know about?”

His jaw tightened at the defiance in her tone.

Did she really need him to explain the threat? “You aren’t going anywhere without me. Not right now.”

She held his stare for a few seconds, then gave in with a slump of her shoulders.

“No plans. Talia and I talked about trying out the new wine bar in Ballantyne, but she had to go out of town on a work trip.”

He gave a curt nod. “Figure out what you want for dinner, and I’ll go pick it up. Until then, I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

The disappointment that flickered across her face hit harder than it should have.

Bella’s world was shrinking for reasons beyond her control. He’d offer to take her to that wine bar, but it would feel like a date.

After this morning, he didn’t trust himself to honor any boundaries he had set.

Instead, he did the only thing he could manage without fucking things up even more—he retreated to his room and called Nathan.

“How are the background checks on the gala guest list coming along?”

“Ryan’s almost finished with them,” Nathan told him. “Politicians and their spouses, and corporate leaders looking to leverage their influence. No one raising concern.”