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To her further surprise, he punctuated the sentence with a full-on smile.
And what that smile did to his face—and to her heart— was amazing. Valentina felt as if a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies rose up and took flight deep within her belly.
“Do you want to—?” she began.
“Yes.” He interrupted her with an intensity that was startling. When Hal saw the alarmed look on Valentina’s face, he backpedaled slightly. “Look, what I meant to say is that unless I am dead wrong about you, you ain’t the kind of woman who’s gonna come to my room at this time of night on a fucking whim. So, I’m gonna take it as a sign that you’re as sick of this bullshit as I am, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Valentina nodded in relief because Hal totally got it. With a sigh of conciliation, she added, “It’s unusual for my dad to go outside the family for anything. Especially for something like this. It’s been a lot for me to process.”
“I get it. Never took you for the spoiled brat you’ve been acting like. You want to come in and hash it out?”
Never took you for the spoiled brat you been acting like?Valentina hesitated at the doorway as she felt a fresh surge of …what? Irritation, frustration, embarrassment?
All the above.
“That didn’t come out the way I meant it,” Hal said in way of apology. Then, as if he sensed her inner struggle, Hal gently pulled Valentina inside the room. He stepped away from her and reached down into the cooler that sat by the side of the bed. “How about we start with a beer?”
Valentina looked at him in surprise even as her hand reached out for the bottle. Her eyes took a quick sweep around the room and found it transformed from a decidedly frilly guest room to something else entirely. Gone was the chintz duvet and matching shams. She guessed they had been relegated to the back of the deep closet and that Hal had brought his own bedding. Despite the late hour, the bed was made up tight with plain crisp white sheets and a forest green lightweight blanket, which was tucked in at the ends with hospital corners. The only indication that someone had laid on the bed was the small indentation in the pillow and a slight rumple to the blanket.
Next to the dismantled gun, the oiled cloth, and a cooler packed with ice and beer, sat a set of free weights. What looked like a very heavy-duty pull-up bar was wedged into the frame of the doorway leading out to the balcony; on the desk under that sat a laptop, an iPod and dock, two cell phones, and a large roll of cash. An enormous jar of protein powder, various bottles of vitamins, a few vials of prescription drugs, and a baggy full of marijuana filled the space on top of the dresser.
“Looks like you plan on being here awhile,” she said helplessly.
Hal leaned back against the wall, crossed his bare feet at the ankles, and relaxed his shoulders. His eyes never left her face, but gone was the predatory look she had come to expect. He seemed perfectly at ease and willing to wait her out.
“Before I say anything else,” she began hesitantly, “I want you to know that despite how I feel about what you aredoingfor my father, I appreciate what you did for me. I never thanked you for helping me … uh … for helping me … uh…” She flushed with embarrassment while the words buzzed around her head like humming bees. She hated admitting to those episodes and to talk about them was unthinkable, but there was no getting around it. Valentina owed Hal a debt of gratitude, and it had taken her way too long to acknowledge it.
“Shit happens,” he said evenly. As he watched the tension tighten her body into rigid form, Hal understood just how hard this conciliatory gesture was for Valentina to make. He decided to cut out the bullshit and make it easier on her.
“So, you got stuff you need to do tomorrow?”
“I do this bread thing ...” she began hesitantly.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I saw it on the calendar downstairs.” He shrugged.
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind going with me?” Her voice stronger now. “I don’t want to miss it and really it’s the only thing that Pauli wouldn’t let me do without him …” Valentina’s voice trailed off.
“Sure,” Hal blurted. “I’m in.”
“Really?” Valentina’s arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, Tia. Just. Like. That.” His eyes melted into hers. “Not everything between us has to be a battle, baby.”
Hal worked hard not to move.
Not a muscle.
Valentina had come to him in the middle of the night—not dressed in lace or silk or flimsy scraps of temptation, but wrapped in pale pink cotton and courage.
She wasn’t offering seduction, but compromise—a truce.
It occurred to him then that Valentina might be as weary of the fight as he was, tired of being strong, tired of carrying the scars, and tired of the voices that reached out in the dark.
Her modest night shirt was buttoned up to within an inch of its life and hung primly past her knees. Hal had never seen anything sexier. It looked so soft and warm against her skin that he had an almost overwhelming urge to run his hands over it.
