“Me too,” she agrees.
Please, don’t invite him inside, Bonny. I’m not sure how I’ll react to that.
He moves closer and I can see it coming from a mile away. He’s going to kiss her. And I don’t think I can sit here and watch it happen.
He touches the side of her face with his palm and I twitch to go to her, to get between them. “I’d really like to kiss you but I’m afraid you’ll kick me in the nuts again.”
If she doesn’t, it’s likely I will.
“Cody,” she sighs. “You’re a great guy but the timing is all wrong. I’ve just gotten out of a really intense … situation. I’m nowhere near ready for a new relationship.”
“I get it, Bleu. But you should be aware that I’m a very patient man. I can wait.” He leans in and kisses the side of her face. “Goodnight, Memphis Bleu.”
This man has a pet name for my Bonny. I’m not okay with that.
She shuts the front door and turns the deadbolt. Her high heels clang across the tile floor until she reaches the carpet of her bedroom. Everything goes quiet. Walls separate us but I imagine she’s kicking out of her heels. It was always the first thing she’d do when we’d come home from a night out. I doubt that’s changed. I’d bet money she’s sitting on the edge of her bed right now rubbing her feet. She hates wearing heels because they’re uncomfortable.
“Hey, Dora.” That’s one of Harold MacAllister’s hospice nurses. “How’s Dad tonight?”
Bleu is calling to check in on her father—part of her nightly routine before going to bed.
“Good. I’m coming in the morning. You can tell the dayshift I’ll be there in time for breakfast. He eats better for me than Myra, but mostly because I force him.” She laughs. “Have a good night and call if anything happens.”
A moment later, I hear water running. She’s going to have a soak in the tub. It’s something she does almost every night.
I recognize the smell of her signature fragrance floating in the air—peaches and cherry blossom. I inhale deeply. Damn. I’ve missed that scent.
I sit on her bed and it feels like the longest wait of my life. I don’t know how she’ll react to discovering me inside her home. I’m certain she’ll initially be startled. Fear will likely follow. I expect a physical struggle. She’s an agent so she’s going to make a move for the gun she hides at the head of her bed. But she won’t find it there.
The door opens and she comes out of her bathroom wearing a short, satiny robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She jolts from surprise and then goes completely motionless.
“Hello, my sweet Bonny.”
She takes a few steps back and darts around the bed when I stand. I’m certain she’s going for her gun. “There’s no need for that because it’s not there.”
She makes a move for the door and I catch her around the waist from behind. I hold her tightly to prevent escape. She throws her head backward and slams it into my nose. I immediately feel warmth ooze down my upper lip.
I walk backward to the bed and fall with her on top of me, her back pressed against my front. She’s struggling with every bit of strength she has. It’s like wrestling a wild animal. “Stop fighting me, Bonny. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Liar! I don’t believe you.” She tries to kick my knee where it joins my prosthesis.
When you physically struggle with someone, it isn’t long until one or both of your bodies give out to exhaustion. I’m fit but she’s more conditioned so I have no doubt she’ll outlast me. I must use words, not strength, to convince her.
I use the last bit of power I have left to flip us over on the bed. Bleu is on her stomach. She’s pressed into the mattress with me lying on top of her back. I move my hands to her wrists and bind them over her head. I wrap my legs around hers, locking them so she can’t move. “I would never harm you, Bleu. I swear.”
She stops struggling and I become aware of how hard we’re both panting. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I love you, Bonny.” In our scuffle, she has lost the towel from her hair. I release one of her wrists and use my free hand to push away the wet strands stuck to her cheek and neck. I press my face to the side of her head so my still-panting mouth hovers over her ear. “I claimed you, Bleu. I don’t take that lightly. You’re mine to protect so I’ll always do what I must to keep you safe.”
Her body relaxes beneath mine. I adjust my position so my weight is no longer pressing her into the mattress. She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “You’re here to protect me? From what?”
I don’t wish to have this conversation while restraining her. “Are you finished fighting me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I move off her. We’re exhausted from our physical battle so we lie side by side on the bed catching our breath.
She drops her damp hair towel on my face. “Your nose is bleeding.”
“Thanks.”
I wipe the blood away and hold pressure until the ooze stops.
“Abram’s men are coming for you. They’re getting closer. I expect them to track you here by early next week.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on their whereabouts because I’m responsible for your safety.” I still can’t believe what a poor job she’s done of concealing herself. “To tell you the truth, this whole hiding in plain sight thing isn’t the genius plan you thought. I expected a chameleon of your caliber to do a much better job of camouflaging herself.”
“Normally I would but my dad’s sick. I couldn’t go far.”
Staying puts her at risk. “I found you weeks ago.”
She bolts up. “You’ve been watching me for weeks?”
I rise so I’m sitting next to her. She’s angry. I see it in her eyes. “Aye. Three. But don’t be cross with me. It was the only way to ensure your safety without robbing you of this time with your father.”
Her face relaxes. “Then you know my dad is in hospice care?”
“Aye.”
She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and shakes her head. “I can’t leave him.”
I understand her wanting to be with her father but she’s left herself wide open for attack. “Staying here is too risky.”
“I can protect myself.”