She went over to the wall, climbed up on the stepladder she used to paint up high, and peeled the tape loose. She ripped the heavy strip of paper down, wadding it up into a ball. It left a big, ragged hole in her mosaic. Which was just fine.
Nate looked taken aback. “Hey! I didn’t say you had to destroy it! It’s an amazing drawing. It’s not like it deserved to die.”
“I want to burn it,” she said fervently.
“Not a bad idea.” He looked around. “But your place isn’t set up for that.”
Good point. No woodstove, no fireplace. No time to spare. Gil didn’t get one more second of air time on this precious last night with Nate.
“So, how does it feel?” he asked. “Taking it down, I mean.”
“Good,” she admitted. “I don’t understand how I left it up there for so long.”
“I do,” he said. “You were used to the feeling. A person can get accustomed to things that hurt. Pain starts to feel normal. Baseline. I know how that can be.” He paused for a moment. “Are you sure you won’t tell me more?”
“Not another word, or I’m calling this off right now,” she said crisply, shoving the wadded paper violently into the trash basket. Then she rummaged around in the junk drawer until she found a battered, half-burned candle that she’d seen in there, left over from whoever had lived in this apartment before her.
She pulled out a saucer, softened the wax at the bottom with a match, and fixed the candle onto the plate. Then she flipped off the overhead light and placed the candle in the middle of the table.
It lit the room with a flickering glow. Strange shadows danced on the walls.
She went around the room from window to window, pulling down the blinds. No one else in town needed to see that she had company. Not that anyone paid attention to her, but even so. This was nobody’s business but theirs.
The light flickered eerily on the walls, making the uncanny images appear to move, like marine plants swaying underwater.
“Better?” she said. “I don’t want my dark art installation to creep you out.”
“It doesn’t, at all,” he assured her. “It intrigues me. It’s amazing. It was just that one particular image. It felt like a mistake to have that on display.”
“Agreed. Would you excuse me? I’m just running into the bathroom.”
“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll be right here when you get out. You couldn’t drag me out of this place.” He gazed around at the walls, fascinated. “I’ve been wanting a closer look at you from the first day. I knew you had hidden depths.”
“Really?” she said with a snort. “What clued you in? The box-cutter?”
His gorgeous smile flashed. “I’m just curious. It’s my nature.”
Well, too bad about his curiosity. She wasn’t going to satisfy it. He’d just have to be content with having other needs and urges satisfied.
And to that end, she slipped into the bedroom, which was barely large enough for a cot, and unzipped her already packed suitcase.
She didn’t have much to work with when it came to seductive lingerie. The nightie she pulled out was a far cry from the pretty sleepwear she’d worn in her former life; filmy nothings made of silk, satin and lace. Her clothes-shopping post-flight had been limited to the secondhand thrift shop down at St. Vinny’s. Everything priced under a dollar.
The clingy tank was so thin and worn it was almost sheer, but it had big roses splattered over it. It was soft, stretchy, and it clung nicely to her curves. With eyes blurred, or in candlelight, it could pass for sexy, tattered chic. She wasn’t quite ready to waltz out there stark naked. She had to ease into this a little at a time.
The bathroom connected with the bedroom, so she slipped in there and took a quickie shower. She pulled out the pins and shook down her hair, unwinding the coil. She stared at herself in the mirror as she arranged it over her shoulders.
So she was actually dragging Nate into this death-trap? To scratch a fucking itch? She was being selfish. Self-indulgent.
But if she didn’t tell him about Gil, then she wouldn’t spark his curiosity or activate his macho protectiveness, or invoke his knee-jerk hero instinct.
This was simple and straightforward. A one-night stand. Everyone understood the rules of engagement. She would indulge in her lustful curiosity, blow his mind, and then disappear forever. An eternal question mark.
This was stolen time. Stolen sex. Gil would have no reason to hurt him. Once she left this place, Gil would never have any reason to know that Nate even existed.
Right. Like it could be that easy. Nate was ferociously smart and curious. He was heroic and protective by nature. He’d put himself on the line for his country in the military, and he did it on the job, too. Defending and protecting people came to him as naturally as breathing.
He had offered her his protection unasked. Knowing nothing about what threatened her. It would be incredibly difficult to hide the truth from a guy like Nate.
What made her think concealing it would get easier once they’d had sex?
She padded barefoot out to the main room. Nate had pulled out his cell phone and was holding it up under air vents, under the smoke detector. So that thing was not just a cell phone, evidently.
He turned, and his eyes widened. “Wow. I wasn’t braced for that.”
She snorted. “Aw. Thanks. And that thing?” She gestured at the thing in his hand. “What’s up with that?”
“Bug-sweeper,” he said. “From what I can tell, your place seems good. You don’t appear to have any electronics in here at all. I pick up a big fat nothing.”
“Nope,” she said. “I have my laptop, but it’s not connected. There’s no TV or tablet or digital clock. There isn’t even a microwave.”
Nate shrugged off his suitcoat, and took off his shoulder holster, laying his gun on the drafting table, next to the candle guttering in the plate. He pried off his shoes, yanked his tie loose, and paused, giving her an uncertain look. “Too much, too soon?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Please go on. It’s not every day I get a show like this.”
His grin flashed, and he got back to it. Buttons, belt. She had to stop breathing for a moment when he shrugged the shirt off.
Total sensory overload. She’d been fantasizing about him since the beginning, but she still wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous he was. Every cut and contour, every thick, ropy muscle or taut tendon just struck her as absolutely perfect. The silky mat of dark hair over his chest trailed down to his flat belly.
His eyes narrowed at the look on her face, and he stopped, his hands on the buttons of his pants. “Is this okay? Am I going too fast?”
“Fine,” she assured him. “I like it just fine. Carry on.”
He smiled at her, letting his hands drop, and moved closer to her. He smelled good. Heat, salt, a subtle piney sweetness of his aftershave.
He seized both of her hands, and pressed them against his chest.
Oh. Wow. They both gasped a little at the sweet shock of contact. His muscular chest was so dense and hard, and his skin velvety and hot and supple.
Nate pressed her hand hard against his heart.
“Feel that?” he said. “It’s going nuts just from looking at you.”