Actually, she didn’t.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Lingered. Then slowly rose until that green stare of his was locked with hers. Voice low, he told her, “I can be the best mistake you ever make, I assure you of that.”
Aspen had to swallow the lump in her throat. She’d intended to deliver her lines and put this tension between them to bed. But, now, things seemed worse than ever.
His gaze seemed to see straight into her as he added, “You’ll be the one who makes the call. You’ll be the one who decides how far we go and what we do. You trying to figure out where I stand? That what you want to know?”
“Ah—” Yes? No? She was floundering. Her heart racing. Her body aching for something that she could not have.
“I’d love to have you.” Said bluntly. Fiercely. “I’d love to give you so much pleasure that you scream again and again.”
Her flush was getting worse. Her drumming heartbeat also filled her ears.
“But you have some heavy shit going on right now. You might not want any involvement, even if it is just physical.”
Just physical.
“So there is no pressure. There never will be. I’ll do my job. I’ll play any role you want, and I will keep you safe. As far as anything else is concerned…”
He leaned forward. Put one arm on the cushion behind her head. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his body wrapping around her.
“You tell me what you need, and I’ll be more than happy to give it to you.”
Oh. Wow.
“I’ll be your bodyguard, I’ll be your hunter, I’ll be your pretend lover…or I can be your real one. Whatever you need, I can be.”
This conversation had gone way off track. Hadn’t it?
His eyes were on her mouth once again, and she was about ninety percent sure he was going to kiss her. She even found herself stretching toward him. An instinctive movement. Her lips began to part.
“Think you can get to sleep now?” Gideon pulled back.
Probably not. “Absolutely.” Her voice was too sharp. “The whiskey did the trick.” She practically jumped from the couch. “See you in the morning.” Aspen fled toward the bedroom.
“Secrets have a way of wrecking a person’s life.”
She’d almost made it to the doorway. His low words stopped her.
“When I start hunting for him—and believe me, I am a very good hunter—I will uncover your secrets, too. That’s just the way this thing works. To know him, I have to know you.”
No one really knows me. They just knew the image she gave. Forcing a smile, she turned back toward him. “There is nothing in my past that will wreck me.” Lie, lie, lie. “Good night, Gideon. Thanks for giving me a safe place to crash tonight.” Once more, she turned away.
“Good night, Aspen.” A soft rumble. “And I will be your safe place to crash anytime.”
***
Her scream woke him two hours later. He’d just managed to fall asleep, after an extremely cold shower and after getting a disappointing update from Elijah—the guy had turned up nothing at the hotel. And someone had turned off the security cams on the fifth floor right after the fire alarm started screeching.
Aspen’s scream was loud and sharp, and it jarred him from his dream. A dream about her. Even as he shot up, Gideon thought he heard her try to say something else.
He kicked in the bedroom door. It flew back and thudded into the wall.
“Dead,” Aspen gasped as she sat up in bed. “Dead. I—”
He caught her shoulders. “You are not dead. That shit will not happen on my watch,” he swore. She felt too fragile and delicate, and dammit, too breakable in his hold. “Aspen?”
Her eyes were open, but she didn’t seem to actually see him.
“Aspen,” he said her name again. Harder. Sharper.
She jerked. Her long lashes fluttered. “Gideon?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” His heart thundered in his chest. When he’d heard her scream, he’d nearly lost his damn mind. Part of him had been terrified that the stalker had gotten to her. Gotten past him and to Aspen.
But she was safe. Just a bad dream. “You’re not dead,” he said again, “and that will not be happening.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Of course. Just a very dramatic night, that’s all. Not every night that a woman finds a knife shoved into her pillow.” Aspen sucked in a deep breath and looked down at his right hand. “You can stop holding me now.”
He hauled his hands back. “I heard you scream, so I came running in here —”
“I appreciate your effort. Thank you very much.”
Her voice was off. Too stilted and tight. “You want to talk about the dream?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
He believed she was telling the truth…then.
“I think I’ll stay away from the whiskey from now on.” She eased back on the bed. Pulled the covers up to her chin. “Seems that it doesn’t agree with me.”
Gideon rose and stood by the bed. He was lingering, dammit. “You sounded afraid.”
“Bad dreams make people afraid. But bad dreams can’t hurt you. Just like ghosts can’t.”
What an odd thing to say. “You worried about ghosts?”
“No, of course not.” She yawned. “But I am tired. Sorry I woke you.”
“Part of the package deal.” He didn’t want to leave her. She was still afraid. He could feel it. “You scream in the middle of the night, and I’ll always come running.” He turned away. Took three steps for the door.
“Promise?”
So low, he barely heard her. But he still spun around. “Aspen?”
“Nothing. Good night.”
He didn’t move. “Yes, I promise.” Gideon meant this, and she needed to understand it. “You call for me, and I will always come running.”
She didn’t say anything else. He was pretty sure she’d closed her eyes. It was only then, as he stared at her on the bed, that he realized…
She’d slept with the light on. She’d left the lamp turned on as it sat on the bedside table.
Afraid of the dark? With a creep on her trail, she probably was afraid. Slowly, he backed out of the room.
He didn’t close the door fully. Instead, Gideon left it cracked open. If she called out again, he wanted to be able to hear even the faintest of cries.
***
Bad dreams can’t hurt you. Just like ghosts can’t.
That had been a screw-up of epic proportions. Aspen blamed it on the whiskey. Or maybe her sleepiness. Or the fact that she’d been terrified.
A knife stabbed into the pillow. That message had been very deliberate. The threat undeniable.
Tomorrow, you have to convince Gideon to do what you want. She had created her confidentiality agreement before she’d left for the initial meeting at Wilde. Sure, she’d signed all their paperwork, but when she arrived in Pensacola, Gideon would be signing hers.
Then she would finally tell him why she had truly hired him.
It wasn’t for protection. Aspen was quite good at protecting herself. She’d never been afraid to get her hands dirty. Her father had always taught her the value of hard work. He’d also taught her how to use a knife, how to shoot, how to fight. How to take care of herself in the most dangerous of situations. Because, unfortunately, too much of her life had been spent in those exact situations.