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“You coming?” He motioned toward the shower.
I walked gingerly toward the hot water. My legs had finally regained feeling. Epic orgasms had a way of robbing me of immediate activity. Vaughn held the door for me as I stepped under the water. It felt good against my skin. Vaughn lathered my back.
“Are we good?” he asked.
I nodded, turning to face him. “That was good,” I teased.
“Hey, you know what I mean. The sex is always good. Are we done fighting?”
“Are you going to let me help you?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “No.”
“Then we aren’t done fighting.”
“Damn it, Em.”
I turned back around to wash the bubbles from my body. “I’m not mad. I want to help. There is a difference, you know.”
Vaughn rinsed off and reached for our towels. He tossed one to me.
“Why are you so hell-bent on this?” He ran the towel over his hair.
“Why are you so against it?”
We turned off the light and wandered into the bedroom.
“I can keep you safe if I can keep you out of Blackwing. I can’t control them. This I can control.”
We crawled under the covers, our naked bodies aligning. I nestled against his chest. I loved the clean smell of soap on his skin.
“I don’t want you to think of me as something to control. You have to realize how that sounds.”
“I don’t want to control you. I want to keep you safe. You don’t know what you’re trying to get involved in. You have no idea.”
“Then tell me.” I pushed up on my hands to see him. “Let me make the decision.”
“You want me to tell you who Paul Auclair is?”
“Yes. God, yes. That would be a good place to start.”
“All right.”
“All right?” My eyes bulged.
“You’re a fucking siren. You know that?”
I twisted my lips together. I didn’t care what he called me right now as long as he told me why we were in Paris. I wanted to know his assignment. Why Paul Auclair was his target, and what I could do about it.
Chapter Nine
It was the worst game of chicken I had ever played. Garrett and I used to play when we were kids. He would climb on his bike and I’d hop on mine. I loved how the yellow tassels would flap on the handlebars the faster I peddled. I’d start at one end of the street and Garrett would stake out the other end. When our neighbor Penny yelled, we’d dig into the pedals. Each one threatening the other we wouldn’t bail. I would ride so hard, I’d stand upright, urging my feet to move faster. But as I got closer and closer to my brother, the fear would start. What if he didn’t stop? What if he was willing to crash into me? How bad would it hurt when my body was splayed on the street? A thousand things rushed through my mind as I sailed toward inevitable doom. Ultimately, I never won chicken. Garrett was tougher. Or I was smarter. I didn’t know.
Just
how far was I willing to take this with Vaughn? Underneath my new-found fearlessness, I was still that same little girl. I talked a big talk, but was I willing to crash to prove a point? I couldn’t make that decision until I had all the facts. I was going to work this like I would any case a client presented. I needed information.
I pulled the sheet against my hip and waited for Vaughn to say something.
