AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He carefully stabbed the slender pin through the cloth. “Yes. She develops technology and recently designed a bunch of devices for our use.”
“Another woman in the tech industry? That’s awesome.”
He pressed the back in place but didn’t step away from Bronte. The warm notes of cherry and vanilla held him prisoner. All he wanted to do was smudge her lipstick, muss up her hair and make her scream his name.
She tipped her face up to his. Their lips hovered inches away.
He took a step back. “Be careful you don’t hit that button.”
Her breasts heaved against her bodice with a sharp intake of breath. “Better not get too close then.”
Unable to help himself, he traced a fingertip over her collarbone.
Her breaths came faster. “What do you expect the camera to pick up?”
“Not what, but who. As the camera scans the guests at the dinner, my team will be running facial recognition for matches and hopefully we’ll weed out The Broker.”
“Why aren’t you wearing one?”
“No one wants to talk tome.”
“Am I bait?” Her pouty lips curved upward.
He gave her a ghost of a smile. “Maybe chum.”
Her eyes glimmered. “I can’t even fire you for that joke. I need you to protect me.”
Stomach dropping, he knew the time had come. He had to tell her the news.
“Bronte, there’s something you need to know.” He cut his fingers through his hair, missing the hat he never expected to become such a part of him.
She searched his eyes. The red blush turned to two hectic splotches of color in her cheeks. “What is it? Did something happen?”
Fuck, did he have to give her this news? Now?
Yes, he did. It was the only way to make her see how dangerous this game was and how she had to exercise the utmost caution. Plus, it wasn’t fair to withhold what he’d known since that morning.
“We got a match on the blood on that T-shirt.”
She pressed a palm against her chest, dangerously close to the pin he’d cautioned her not to trigger. “And?” she barely breathed.
“It’s your former partner’s blood.”
She turned bone white. Tilting forward at the waist, she gasped for air. Concern ripped through him, and he held her by the arms, prepared to catch her if she fainted. What had she said about him thinking she couldn’t handle stress?
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Bronte was as tough as any man on the WEST team. But she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with threatening letters and blood-stained shirts.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
He curled a hand around her nape, itching to bury his fingers into her soft hair but not wanting to ruin her updo. In fact, the need to crush her against his chest and never let go was too damn telling.
He was falling for his ward. Hell, he was halfway to loving her.
Of all the times to have an epiphany…
“Is she…alive?” she asked.
“We don’t know that. We’ve got the FBI searching for her.”
