Under Fire (Love Over Duty #1)(42)

       
         
       
        

It was funny how well he was coming to know her, and while the idea that he was living out of boxes made her itch like a cheap wool sweater, she'd bite her tongue and deal with it. "I'm sure it's going to be fine," she said. "I appreciate you bringing me somewhere safe so that I can make new arrangements."

Six opened the door, and she stepped into a narrow hallway which led straight into the living room, a large space with dark floors and white walls that was sparsely furnished. Packing boxes lined the wall next to the door, and a well-worn sofa spanned the opposite one. "Living room," he said, leading her past two red armchairs tucked into an alcove and through an archway that led into a small dining room furnished with a small wooden table and four black chairs. A second archway led through into a kitchen with ugly yellow pine cabinets and a serviceable white countertop. "I hated these counters when Gran had them installed, and I still hate them now. It's going to be one of the first things to go when I get the money together," he said. "Help yourself to whatever you can find in the fridge. We're going to need to go shopping this afternoon anyway."

Two things struck her almost simultaneously. One, they hadn't discussed payment for his security services, and while it didn't appear that he needed the money, he obviously had plans that would require it. And second, he'd said the word "we're." We're going shopping. Did he think she was staying?

They wandered down a hallway, and he pointed out an office and bathroom. "This is my bedroom," he said as they entered a beautiful bedroom with large windows and patio doors that led out onto a courtyard-style terrace.

"I'd buy this house just for this room," she said, taking in the shoji screen wardrobes and the whitewashed ceilings with wooden beams.

Six grinned. "I felt the same way every time I came to stay as a kid. Plus, I needed a room that could take a California king bed, because if I never sleep in a bed where my feet hang over the end again, it will be too soon."

Louisa looked at the bed, which was, as he pointed out, enormous. Suddenly she was very aware that she was standing in the room where he probably slept naked, and his eyes were on her. She'd never given much thought to the notion of predator and prey until today. Earlier on, during the car chase, she'd clearly been the prey, and it had been scary as all shit. But now, standing in his bedroom, the air between them positively crackling, she felt like prey of a different kind.

Feeling bold, she looked up at him. Gone was his smile. He looked like a brooding hero from the cover of one of the romance books her mother so adored.

"So," she said, enunciating way more letter "o"s than there were in the word. "I should make some calls, I guess, so I can get out of your hair." 

Six smiled again, the three little lines that had furrowed his brow gone as quickly as they'd arrived. "Not going to happen, Lou." He walked by her, took her hand, and led her to another bedroom across the hall. "I've decided you're not to be trusted alone, so you aren't going anywhere until we've gotten to the bottom of what's going on. This is your room. Bathroom through there." He tipped his chin in the direction of a white door along the far wall.

Not going anywhere. But she couldn't stay here. With him. Even if it felt like the safest place in the world when he stood there, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his goddamn T-shirt and the faint outline of the gun at his waist. "You want me to stay  …  here  …  with you?"

"Where are you going to go? If you think someone can look after you better than I can, you can always leave. You're not my hostage," he said, stepping back and raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "I just don't want you to think you have to leave. Let me help you."

* * *

If she thought he was letting her go after everything they had been through in the last twenty-four hours, she had another think coming. When he'd said he wouldn't hold her hostage, he only kind of meant it. If it meant nudging her backward onto the bed that was a foot behind her and keeping her there for a while to persuade her, then he'd do just that. Because being leaned up against her by the truck, being so close to her that he could smell tart green apples that made his mouth water, was almost more than he could handle.

And it wasn't just the fact that she smelled so damn good. She was brave as shit in the face of what must have been a terrifying ordeal for her. Admiration didn't even begin to describe the way he felt about her right now, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to learn about her. His body, unused to being denied, was in full agreement and had been since he'd checked out those sweet breasts of hers the night before.