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He’d told himself that his loss of control with her had been an aberration borne of frustration at his lack of progress and that when he saw her again, that strange, uncontrollable hunger would have disappeared.
Yet it hadn’t.
The same surge of desire had risen up inside him again the moment he’d pulled open the door of the car and her gaze had met his. Wide and dark and soft, and full of emotion. The effect had been like a lightning strike.
For a good many years he’d built up his reputation as the corrupt, jaded playboy, slowly lowering himself deeper and deeper into the mud so he could get close to the real criminals, all the while thinking he could keep himself clean.
But that had been a comforting lie. He didn’t feel clean, he never had, not since the mission had consumed him. He knew other people saw him that way too. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had looked pleased to see him, excited that he was here.
He’d been forced to attend too many occasions where the bastards who trafficked in people displayed their ‘wares.’ It sickened him every time. And he’d had to bear the way those poor women had looked at him, as if he was like the men he was trying to take down. As if he was the enemy, the abuser, the brutaliser.
Yet he didn’t see that in Glory’s eyes. He saw desire and excitement, and yes, fear, but also a rising heat. The same heat he’d seen the night she’d kissed him.
It made him want to take her face between his hands and demand she tell him exactly what it was she saw in him, ask her what that good side of him was, because he was starting to forget he had one.
But of course he couldn’t do that, so he’d tried to ignore the feeling. At least until she’d taken his hand and their physical chemistry had kicked into life. And he knew his loss of control that night hadn’t been an aberration. That what he’d felt then, he felt now, and it was her.
It was all her.
He hadn’t been able to resist drawing her in close or pressing his mouth to hers in a brief, insubstantial kiss. He’d said it was for the press, but it wasn’t. It had been for him.
That’s all you should have. You don’t deserve more.
Oh, he was well aware. And he wasn’t going to touch her again, that was for sure. But he hadn’t treated her very well that night, and she deserved an explanation.
No one knew his real mission—no one apart from the authorities and a few of his staff—because if it ever got out, he’d immediately lose the trust of the people he was trying to take down.
But he didn’t think she’d tell anyone. He didn’t trust many people—if he trusted anyone at all—yet he had the feeling he could trust her. At least with this.
‘Yes, that’s correct,’ he said. ‘It is part of a project.’
‘What project?’
Such a simple question with such a complicated answer.
You’ll have to tell her about Ismena.
The thought made something growl deep inside him, the part of his heart he kept locked away. The part that felt too deeply, that had never recovered from the wound her disappearance had left and still prowled obsessively around it, guarding it, protecting it.
He didn’t talk about Ismena, not to anyone, because while she had long since vanished, he was still her big brother and he was still protecting her even if it was only her memory.
Glory’s dark gaze was expectant, waiting for him to continue. Then abruptly concern rippled over it and she leaned forward, putting one delicate hand over his where it was resting on the arm of his seat.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
Shock jolted through him, both from her question and from the gentle touch, a lightning strike of emotion that felt like it lit him up inside.
Automatically he pulled his hand away from hers, the smile he used too often to distract people from asking too many questions already curving his mouth.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ His voice even sounded normal. ‘Why would you think there was?’
Or maybe it didn’t sound normal, because instantly she drew her hand back, the concerned expression on her face flickering.
‘I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.’
There’s no need to snap at her.
He hadn’t thought he’d snapped, but clearly he had. And she’d picked up on his thoughts of Ismena somehow, which meant he needed to manage himself better.
