Enticing The Dragon. Jane Godman
Hollie held up a small gym bag. “How will I ever fit all my stuff in?”
“We have to get you some new clothes.”
“Torque...” She groaned. “That was not my way of trying to get you to purchase me some expensive new things. You’ve given me a job. I can buy my own clothes.”
“That reminds me, we didn’t discuss your salary. And I should probably see about giving you an advance—”
She dropped her bag and marched toward him. Reaching up, she placed a hand over his mouth. The action started out as a joke, but it violated their unspoken “no contact” rule. As soon as her fingers touched his lips, heat blazed from the point of contact through every part of his body. He saw Hollie’s eyes widen and knew she was feeling it, too. So much more than attraction. It was their own firestorm and they were helpless against its power.
And...he wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but his hands appeared to have developed a life of their own. His intention had been to move her gently but firmly away. Instead, his unruly body disobeyed him as he gripped her waist and pulled her closer. Now what was he supposed to do? With her parted lips so achingly close, there seemed to be only one solution to his dilemma.
As Hollie swayed closer, the temptation to kiss her grew into a necessity. Every reason why this was a bad idea had just flown out of his head when they were interrupted by a buzzing noise.
Hollie blinked as though she had been roused from a trance. “What was that?”
“It’s the concierge. I’m expecting a delivery.”
She sighed, resting her forehead briefly against his chest. “Then I guess you have to go.” The disappointment in her voice almost undid his resolve.
“Come with me.” He took her hand. “This is for you.”
Hollie quirked an inquiring brow in his direction, but followed him without comment. When he opened the door, the uniformed concierge handed Torque a small package. Once he had tipped the doorman and closed the door again, he gave the box to Hollie.
“It’s a cell phone.”
She turned the carton over in her hands. Her expression was hard to read, but Torque was caught up in that swirl of conflicting emotions coming from her once again. She was feeling regret and sorrow. Why, Hollie? What’s bothering you?
“You are such a good man.” When she raised her eyes to his, he caught a glimpse of tears before she blinked them away.
“Tell me.” The words were out before he knew he was going to say them.
“Pardon?” He knew she’d heard him.
He shrugged the question aside. Now was not the best time. “Nothing. You need a way to keep in touch with your overprotective friend.”
“If she’s taking calls.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you, Torque.”
To hell with restraint. Her warm, soft mouth felt perfect on his skin, and just for a moment, he let it happen. Allowed himself that one, tiny indulgence.
“While I’m out you can try and contact her.” He grabbed his jacket, turning back as he reached the door. “Be careful.”
Her brow wrinkled. “About calling my friend?”
“Until Kirk gets in touch to say the guy who set fire to the bar has been caught, you need to be careful about everything.”
She looked sweet and vulnerable—and so incredibly beautiful—that it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to walk out the door.
Hollie took the new cell phone through to her bedroom. Her feet felt heavy, the sensation slowing her down, and she kicked off her shoes in an attempt to make herself comfortable. It didn’t work. Her discomfort wasn’t physical. Torque had been so generous, and asked nothing in return, not even an explanation. She hated taking advantage of his kindness. Sometimes she wondered if she should just tell him everything, but even though they had grown closer, there were still those nagging doubts attached to him. She was as sure as she could be that he wasn’t the person who had tried to kill her, but there was still a mystery surrounding the night of the Pleasant Bay Bar fire. No matter how many different ways she looked at it, no matter how many explanations he gave about timing, Torque should not have been able to walk through those flames.
If she was honest, she’d admit there was another reason for her reluctance to tell him the truth. Once Torque knew she had deceived him, things wouldn’t be the same between them. It was unlikely they could continue the way they were. When she examined her motives, this was the strongest. She didn’t want to leave Torque and this enjoyable bubble in which they were living. It was that simple.
She wondered if he was aware of the Incinerator’s activities. The arsonist had received some press attention, but because the attacks were geographically so far apart, there hadn’t been the same sensationalism as if he was operating within a smaller area. And McLain had done a good job of keeping the details out of the public eye.
The thought of the chief made Hollie eager to call her. Surely by now McLain would be back in her office and everything would be right with the world? They would clear up the issue about Vince King and Hollie would persuade her boss that sticking with Torque was a good idea. If that didn’t happen? She frowned. It had to happen. She wasn’t giving up on this now. As she set up the new cell phone, she tried to analyze what this was. Was it still the Incinerator investigation? Or was it something new, something to do with the unbreakable ties that bound her to Torque? By the time she had completed the setup process, she still hadn’t decided.
When she tried McLain’s number, her hands were shaking. Because she already knew what the outcome would be. Sure enough, she got the same voice mail message as last time. Bowing her head, she took a few deep breaths.
Okay. There were other ways to contact McLain. Trying the field office, she got through to the main telephone operator. “I’d like to speak to Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge McLain, please.”
“I’m sorry, the ASAC isn’t here right now. We’re not sure when she’ll be back...”
Something was very wrong. Hollie had already known that, but now she was unable to push aside the feeling of doom. Calling the service provider for the new cell, she explained that she wanted ID blocking enabled on her account. When that was in place, she called Dalton.
“Hollie, where the hell are you? And why are you withholding your number?”
“I don’t have much time.” She used the excuse as a way of not answering his questions. “What’s going on with McLain?”
“No one knows. She seems to have vanished. It’s crazy here right now. But, Hols, there’s something else... I don’t know how to tell you this...”
She could hear the distress in his voice and it triggered answering prickles of dread along her spine. “Just say it, Dalton.”
“Your apartment building burned down yesterday.”
She sat down abruptly on the bed, closing her eyes as the room began to spin. “Was it the Incinerator?”
“It’s too soon to say, but it’s looking that way.”
A wave of nausea washed over her. She wanted to run to Torque, to cling to him and be comforted. But she couldn’t. Partly because he wasn’t there, but also because to him she was Hollie Brown...and Hollie Brown didn’t have an apartment. All those precious things the Incinerator had destroyed? The books, photographs and mementos? They belonged to Hollie Brennan, FBI agent, and Torque had never met her.
Her thoughts skittered around wildly. The attack on the Pleasant Bay Bar had been personal. That was bad enough. But this latest