by Shayla Black
“If you wanted to leave sooner, all you had to do was say so. I thought you were excited to be at the party.”
“I was at first. Then . . .”
Being an outsider in a room filled with overwhelming love had gotten to her. Crap, she had to stop this little boo-hoo fest.
“Go on.”
“I don’t know. Callie said the party would be small, but it didn’t feel that way.”
“Yeah, you might have to take her concept of a ‘little’ gathering with a grain of salt. Her wedding is intimate, but her ‘small’ reception ballooned to two hundred people.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re feeling better now that you’re back in this room?”
“Yeah.” Just more depressed than she wanted to admit. She was alive and had a better chance at staying that way because of Joaquin. She had to stop thinking of the loved ones she didn’t have and pull herself out of this funk.
He still wore a concerned frown. “Can I get you anything? You hungry?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been in a shame spiral since eating the bagel Callie brought me for breakfast. I never wolf down that many carbs. I’m so far off my exercise regimen.”
“Don’t worry about that, baby girl.” He stroked her face again. “You look perfect to me.”
Bailey couldn’t stop melting. If only he’d quit touching her and staring at her like she mattered to him, maybe she could. He wasn’t coming on to her. His touch didn’t feel sexual. The fact that he wasn’t trying to nail her but simply asking why she’d been crying got to her more.
“You don’t have to babysit me. Go back to the party.”
Joaquin shook his head as if he knew better. “I’m not leaving you alone. I saw how you looked at everyone, like you wished you were part of the group.”
New tears stung her aching eyes. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone? “Please don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t. But I know you find it hard to be without family.”
Bailey tried to downplay the truth. “I know being with yours isn’t your thing. Most of us seek connections to the people who have similar experiences and values. Believing that someone has my back is huge to me.”
“I know what you’re saying.” He sent her a soft smile that made her heart turn over.
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad. Your sister said you were just a kid. How old?”
“Almost thirteen, so it was a long time ago.”
“Kata said it hit you hard. Is that why you don’t see your family much now?”
“Bailey.” He took her chin in hand and snagged her stare with his. “I’m fine. I wasn’t the one in tears tonight.”
But he stood apart from the people who would love him for a reason. “Just because you don’t cry doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting.”
He released her and let loose a long sigh. “But when you’re crying, it definitely means you are. I put you in this shitty mess. I haven’t been easy on you. I’m sorry. Let me help.”
A couple of protestations ran through her head. He’d taken on the responsibility for her safety, not her emotional state. She didn’t want to burden him. Bailey wasn’t quite certain why her mood even mattered to him. Studying Joaquin, she tried to unravel the mystery. He said he wasn’t giving her pity. Maybe he was bored? Lonely? Horny?
“I felt alone tonight,” she admitted. “But that’s not uncommon. I haven’t been really close to anyone . . .” She sorted through her memories, then realized whatever she thought she’d shared with her adoptive parents had been a lie. “Maybe ever. Joaquin, let the people who care about you into your life. Your job is important, but it isn’t everything.”
“Especially since I found out tonight that I’ve been fired.” He tried to shoot her a self-deprecating smile.
She gasped in horror. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry. Because of this case?”
“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. I’d still come find you.”
Not that she’d asked him to hunt her down and abduct her, but Bailey still felt vaguely guilty. “I’m sorry that saving me cost you your job. You were only trying to do the right thing and prevent me and other women from dying.”
He shrugged. “We’re both out of place now. Maybe . . . it’s time for me to think about a life beyond work. I haven’t in over a decade. Longer, really. I got my first job at sixteen to help my mom make ends meet.”
“Because your dad was gone and it was hard for her on one income?”
He froze, then nodded slowly. “She married a real asswipe not long after that, but he put a roof over our heads. I didn’t like or trust him, so I kept working. When my father was still alive, he would tell me all the time that if he wasn’t home, I was the man of the house. At his funeral, I realized I’d assumed that position permanently.”
Bailey’s heart reached out to his. He’d been just a kid. “How did that make you feel?”
“The weight of my responsibility was daunting. My mom went back to work within a few days of his death, so I found myself cooking and doing laundry. My sisters helped, of course. There’s only twenty-one months between me and Kata, with our middle sister, Mari, wedged between. But I became the father figure, disciplinarian, referee, and caretaker.”
“At twelve?”
He shrugged, looking pensive, and Bailey wished she could read his thoughts. “I was a month shy of thirteen.”
“I would have thought that experience would make you and your sisters really tight.”
After a considering frown, he shook his head. “Looking back, I took care of my family, worried about them, did my best with them. Mari was a gifted student, so she was often buried in homework and study groups. I think school was her escape from the hurt of Dad’s absence. Kata was just always so damn independent. Constantly gone, hanging with girlfriends, flirting with boys. I spent a few of her teenage years sure that she was going to make me prematurely gray. But she turned out all right. Once they were grown, I wanted to start living for me.”
“Growing up, you missed your dad a lot, didn’t you?”
Joaquin nodded. “Besides having to be a man before I actually was one, I missed his humor and wisdom. He always seemed to know exactly what to say to make me realize the error of my ways while making me laugh.”
“Your sisters would probably like to talk to you about him. I’m sure they miss him, too.”
He didn’t even have to open his mouth. Bailey already knew that, not only did he avoid talking to his sisters, he probably didn’t talk to anyone about his dad. So why was he talking to her? He’d come to console her when he needed some cheering up himself.
Could he possibly be interested in her as more than a potential mattress tango partner?
“They’ve both got husbands now. Mari has two boys. Kata is having one soon. They have normal jobs, community ties, connections with friends. We’ve got nothing in common anymore.”
“Except that you’re a family. Do you know what I’d give to have one of those?”
He squeezed her hands. “Bailey, I’m sure your birth parents would be very proud of who you’ve become. Accomplished, self-supporting, smart, gorgeous, kind.”
She teared up. “It kills me that I don’t remember them. When I see pictures of Viktor Aslanov, it’s like a punch in the stomach. It was a shock to find out that I look like my mother. I know next to nothing about her or my siblings. That hurts. What would my life have been like if my birth father had never sold his research to LOSS? I’ll never know.”
He took her hand in his and squeezed. “No. Fate had other plans, baby girl.”
“I had what I thought was a really normal upbringing. My adoptive parents guided me and took care of me.” She teared up again and turned away. “It’s just hard to sit here and question whether any of what they said and did for me over the years was duty or love.”
Joaquin slid his cheek over her palm and turned her back to fac
e him. “There’s no way they didn’t care about you.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “You’re impossible to resist.”
Bailey’s stomach dropped out from under her. She blinked up at him, losing herself in his eyes. Her heart thudded. For a man who had barely spoken to his family in years, who’d deflected all but the most impersonal contact since puberty, he was opening himself for her.
She took in a trembling breath. “Joaquin . . .”
Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she was protesting his touch or inviting him closer. She didn’t know if he genuinely cared about her, but the hope that he did lingered in her heart, whispering to her, encouraging her to reach out for him.
Her head disagreed. Callie’s and Kata’s opinions aside, his primary interest in her was still his case. Even if he’d lost his job, this man wasn’t suddenly going to wrap his arms around her and want to spend forever with her. She was pretty sure that even a night in his bed would just prove to her that she was in over her head.
Before she could make up her mind, regret crossed his face and he backed away. The opportunity evaporated. Disappointment took its place, though she supposed keeping distance between them was for the best.
“Are you too tired to look at something?” he asked, his tone far less personal. “It’s for the case.”
Bailey hated that her hesitation might have stifled his urge to share his feelings for the first time in two decades. Even if he wasn’t invested in her, she wanted to help him end the murders so they could both move on. “Not at all.”
“Thanks.” He lifted himself away from the bed and made his way back to the dresser, then returned, paper in hand. He thrust it in her direction.
It was a sketch of a man. “Who is that?”
“Does he look familiar at all?”
Bailey studied it for a minute longer. “Maybe. If it was an actual photo, I might—”
“Like this?” He put another image in front of her, this one a four-by-six color photo of a bald man with a graying fringe around his head. A round face and flat blue eyes dominated the picture. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, the sight of him filled her with terror.
“Yes,” she breathed. Her voice shook.
“Where?” He grabbed her shoulders.
She searched her memories and came up empty-handed. “I don’t know.”
“Recently?”
Bailey thought back to all the people she’d met associated with the dance company, everyone from benefactors to building employees. Nothing. No one she remembered from her crappy waitressing job matched that face. The memory of him seemed fuzzy, distant.
“No.”
“Think about this. Focus. If you can picture his face, can you place where you might have seen him?”
She tried. He hadn’t been a teacher or neighbor or pastor. No friend or coworker of her dad’s.
But she knew she’d seen him somewhere in the past.
“I’m sorry. Who is he?”
“His name is McKeevy. Does that sound familiar?”
She’d never heard of him. “No. Should it?”
Joaquin shrugged. “He’s the top assassin for LOSS. We think he’s trying to crash Callie’s wedding this weekend.”
Bailey gasped. “And kill her. What are Sean and Thorpe going to do? They can’t let him anywhere near her. Even the sight of him made my heartbeat surge. Fear is pressing in on my chest. I associated his face with danger before you told me anything about him. They have to protect Callie.”
“They will.” He discarded the picture and the sketch on the nightstand, then clasped her shoulders. “I’ll put the picture away for now. Take a deep breath. Relax.” He waited until she’d complied. “Any chance you saw him when you were very young?”
Filtering back through her memories, she knew he hadn’t come from her recent past. “Probably. It’s the only thing that adds up.”
“But you can’t place him?” When she shook her head, Joaquin caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, a gentle comforting. “All right. Put it in the back of your head for now. Maybe something will occur to you. But don’t be scared. You’re safe with me. I’ll keep you that way.”
Bailey believed him. As long as Joaquin watched over her and stayed one step ahead of the crazies of LOSS, she’d be alive. But would she have a life? “I’d love to, but I don’t think I have that luxury. Maybe you should leave the photo here with me tonight so I can study it.”
He hesitated, and his expression told her he didn’t love the idea. In the end, his logic prevailed. “All right.”
“Sean and Thorpe must be so worried about Callie.”
“I’m sure, but they’d move mountains to keep her from harm’s way.”
“They’ve done it before,” Bailey agreed.
“I’d do the same for you.”
She swallowed down a lump. “You don’t have to say that. I’m going to cooperate, so buttering me up isn’t necessary.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Thunder crashed across his expression, his dark brows sliding over his eyes that lit with anger like lightning.
“Your case hinges on me. It seems like common sense—”
“Baby girl, when it comes to you, I got off the ‘common sense’ bus a while ago. If I hadn’t, I’d still be interrogating you day and night. Sleep and food would be on the back burner. In fact, I’d be facilitating your exhaustion to see if it would loosen your tongue or if I could trip you up in inconsistencies. In short, I’d be doing everything I could to leave you unsettled and off balance in the hopes it could help my case.”
Instead, he was putting her comfort and mental well-being first. “None of that would make me remember the past any faster.”
“You might be surprised.”
She reared back. “You’ve employed those tactics before?”
“I’ve done things that would make you recoil in horror. I did them without blinking. Getting answers was my job. I did it. I moved on.” He sighed. “Then came you.”
“You said I had nothing to do with your job.”
“You never did. I wasn’t working this case for anyone but me and the people who’ve been slaughtered. I don’t really give a shit that the U.S. government fired me. It gives me more time and energy to keep you safe. There’s another job out there. But there’s only one you.”
Oh, goodness. He knew exactly what to say to make her believe that she mattered, to make it okay to want him. Bailey already knew Joaquin was more than she could handle. Her one experience in the back of a limo on prom night hadn’t prepared her for all his masculine aggression. He scared her even as he turned her on more than she’d imagined possible.
Bailey swallowed. Guard her heart or throw her body into the fire? What good in life had come from protecting her feelings? So, Ryan Fuller, the butthead who had taken her virginity, hadn’t really cared about her. She’d been more humiliated than hurt. She’d recovered. Joaquin might not be Prince Charming, but all the testosterone he exuded made it hard to refuse him. To be honest, she liked him more than a little. When it came to doing right, his moral compass seemed to be set to true north. His methods might be unorthodox, but he sought justice, even above his own career and personal relationships. Bailey had to admit she found that wildly attractive.
Besides, having a killer hunt her brought home the fact that tomorrow wasn’t a given. Or was she just rationalizing because she wanted Joaquin so badly?
“Really, you don’t have to say that to make me cooperate with your investigation.”
He dragged her closer. “Damn it, we’ve been over this. You know better.” His fingers tightened. “And if you can’t remember, let me remind you. Tell me to kiss you.”
Joaquin hovered now, so close his breath warmed her lips. His stare delved into hers, demanding, urgent. But his touch remained gentle. He checked himself for her. In fact, he’d revealed one of his deepest pains and shared it with her. That had to mean something.<
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Bailey pulled herself from his drowning stare, her gaze skating over the hollows of his cheeks and the firm angles of his chin. His lips, full and so close, waited for her.