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Critical Instinct(10)

By:Janie Crouch


Paige would much rather be here chatting with Brett.

“I’m a little surprised you showed up, actually,” she told him as they took the last few stairs to the loft. From here, they could look down on the rest of the show. They weren’t the only people up there, but at least it was less crowded.

“Well, I was surprised you remembered to leave me a ticket.” He chuckled. “That line outside would put Miami nightclubs to shame. I never would’ve gotten in otherwise.”

Paige let go of his arm and turned so she was leaning back against the loft’s railing, her back to the show. She didn’t want to be able to see when Hunter tried to get her attention. Brett put his hands on the railing, facing the show. Paige would swear she could feel heat where his pinky touched her waist against the railing. Their faces were close.

“I really am glad you made it tonight,” she whispered, reveling in the intimacy, in the surprising desire not to pull away.

“I needed to see you.” His voice was just as low as hers as he leaned closer.

She could tell there was more that he wanted to declare; shadows in his eyes that said his words held darkness and were more than just a statement of the attraction between them.

But he said nothing further, and the shadows melted away — whatever he might have said gone too. Only the attraction was left. She felt his hand slide to the side of her waist, his arm crossing her torso as he took a step closer, still to her side.

“You know what I’ve been thinking ever since last week?” he asked, voice deep.

“What?”

“How stupid I was not to ask you out in high school.”

Paige couldn’t help her blush again. “I couldn’t have handled the QB. I was too shy. Too introverted.”

He stepped closer, his cheek against hers as he looked out at her show and she faced the other way. She couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but the feel of his cheek against hers —the stubble rough and masculine— stole her breath.

To anyone looking at them from below, it would just seem like a conversation between two people struggling to hear each other over the noise of the room. But Paige could feel every place where their bodies touched one another, and all she wanted to do was get closer. She leaned into him just the slightest bit.

“I hope you’ll be willing to give him a chance now. Brett, not QB. He doesn’t exist anymore.”

She just nodded, caught in the soft brown of his eyes.

“I know this isn’t the place, isn’t the time,” he continued. “You’re needed elsewhere, I’m sure. This is your business. But I wanted to see you. To touch you with my own hands.”

Slowly he stepped back from her. Paige forced herself not to move towards him, to keep their bodies in contact as she desperately wanted to do.

“It looks like your agent is looking for you,” Brett continued. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a card and held it out to her. “Here’s my number at my office, with my cell phone number on the back.”

Paige took it, holding it in her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her agent Hunter making his way up the stairs, his arm linked with Melissa MacKinven. Brett was right, their stolen moment was almost over.

She was surprised how disappointed that made her. Paige was usually thrilled to end a conversation with anyone. Especially a much larger and stronger man.

Brett placed his thumb under her chin and tipped her face back towards his. “I will call you soon so we can finish this,” she felt his thumb caress her throat, “but I want you to have my number in case you need me.”

His lips touched the corner of hers for just the slightest second before he stepped away. Their gaze held as Hunter crossed to them.

“Paige, sweetness, there you are!”

Paige managed to drag her eyes away from Brett to look at the older man who had been her agent, and close friend, for years. Long before Paige had become famous.

“Sorry, Hunter. I needed a little space. Hunter, Melissa, this is Detective Wagner, from the Portland Police Department.”

Instantly Hunter’s hackles went up. “Surely you’re not questioning Paige now, are you?” Both Hunter and Melissa put themselves between Brett and Paige.

Paige realized she’d been letting other people, mostly Hunter and Melissa, run interference for her for too long. She had needed the buffer. But she didn’t now, definitely not with Brett.

She stepped out from behind them, closer to Brett. Saw her friends try to hide their surprise as she did so.

“No, Brett is here as my guest. I invited him.” She touched Brett on the arm and saw Melissa’s eyes widen even more.

“Yes, I appreciate Paige’s invite,” Brett said, his smile for the other two people warm and genuine. “This is my first art show, and it has been nothing short of fantastic. But I’ve monopolized her long enough; I know she probably has other duties she’s needed for.”

Hunter’s over-protective zeal melted away. “There are people who want to talk to her. Some have traveled quite a distance to be here.”

“I don’t doubt it at all.” Brett smiled at her then leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll call you soon. I’m going to wander around for a little while longer, but I won’t keep you from business you need to conduct. Goodnight, everyone.”

Paige murmured goodnight, but Hunter and Melissa seemed too shocked to say anything at all. All three turned and watched him walk down the stairs and across the gallery from their vantage point in the loft.

“Oh my gosh, Paige has a suitor,” Hunter said as Brett disappeared from view around a corner.

“A suitor?” Paige laughed at the word.

“That’s the perfect word for it,” Melissa agreed.

“He’s just a friend. We knew each other in high school. I’m not sure he’s even interested.” It had been a long time since Paige had read signals from a man. Maybe Brett’s actions tonight were more casual than she’d interpreted.

The thought made everything around her feel colder and grayer. Paige turned away from the balcony rail and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt Brett’s card still in her hand. Should she even keep it?

But then she heard both Hunter and Melissa chuckling. They turned around also and linked arms with Paige on either side.

“Oh honey,” Melissa said. “I’ll never be able to see and paint colors the way you do, but I know what a man looks like when he wants a woman. And believe me, Brett Wagner wants you.”





Chapter Eight





The next day Melissa’s words still rang through Paige’s thoughts.

Brett Wagner wants you.

Paige had always been mostly a loner. Quiet and shy by nature, she found engaging men —the flirtation that her younger sister Chloe thrived on— exhausting. Paige had had a couple of intimate relationships with men years ago, but nothing that had become too serious.

She’d yet to find a man who didn’t mind if she ignored him by painting for hours at a time, falling exhausted into bed only to get up the next day and do the same thing. A man who didn’t mind if Paige forgot to brush her hair for days on end.

And then since the attack, she’d stopped looking for men all together. The thought of being touched by anyone was enough to make her physically ill.

Until Brett.

She had no idea how he would react to her forgetting to brush her hair. But for the first time in a long time she was willing to find out.

Something about Brett made her feel safe. No, not safe, that wasn’t the right word. Safe was too close to boring. Safe suggested comfort, which she definitely didn’t have. What she felt for Brett was too gripping, too exciting, to be called safe.

But she knew there was an element of shelter with him. That she never needed to worry about her physical well-being with him near. He had the heart of a protector — she could see it in the rich colors that surrounded him. He had chosen his occupation well.

She knew he would protect her. Never hurt her, at least not physically.

So no, he didn’t make her feel safe, but he helped make her feel… brave.

Paige was just so tired of being scared all the time. A little bit of bravery was so very welcome.

She had felt it walking around the show last night after Brett had kissed her in the loft. Chats with people that would normally have been so torturous, while they weren’t fun, at least weren’t so exhausting. Because she knew he was nearby. Could sense him. Knew he was watching her.

She didn’t need him for physical safety. She had her well-paid security team for that. But having him nearby sparked something inside of her she thought was gone forever.

And bravery was part of that.

Last night, long after all the guests were gone, while leaving the show from a back entrance, Paige had almost been to the car when she remembered a scarf she’d left inside. A member of her security team had offered to go back and get it, but Paige knew right where it was, so she’d gone back in.

Inside the darkened hallway leading to the studio, she’d gotten a chill. She could’ve sworn she felt eyes on her from outside in the distance. She looked but couldn’t see anything but a deep, sticky blackness. She’d grabbed her scarf and immediately headed back to the car. Feeling the business card Brett had given her in her hand had helped. Like it was some sort of talisman.