Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(44)
Author: Cambria Hebert

As the water receded, it pulled at us, making me dizzier than I already was. Before the wave could completely pull away, another one surrounded us and I squealed again. The water was cold without the sun to warm it, and I snuggled in a little closer to his heat. Once again, the water pulled away, going back into the sea where it belonged, and once again, it pulled at us, trying to claim us for its own.

But I was already taken.

By the man anchoring me to the sand.

Even if I forever remained single, my heart would never be free.

Once the water was gone, he pressed his forehead against mine and stared down into my eyes for a few silent moments before sighing and pulling away. Part of me was sorely disappointed. My body still tingled for his touch as he adjusted my bra and stood. Then he reached for me and my forgotten shirt and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. My body fit perfectly into his side and we walked together up to his half-glass beach house where he rinsed off my feet with the hose before pulling me close and kissing me senseless once more. Just when I was sure we would end up tangled in bed, he growled and pulled away, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

His whispered goodnight was lifted away by the wind as he disappeared into the house.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Text – to communicate by text message.”

Charming

I woke as the sun was rising, lying there in my king-sized bed, watching the sky turn a peachy-pink as day broke over the water. I bought this house for the view, for the location. I didn’t really expect to like it here as much as I did, but the house was comfortable and there was something calming and steady about the ocean.

Out of all my houses throughout the world, this one probably felt most like home, aside from the first one I ever purchased. That home was the biggest, the most private, and was the only place I’ve ever been where I could fully be myself. It’s where the old me and the current me could blend together to create a total person. When I went there, I didn’t have to be all about the job. I didn’t have to think about the way I looked, the way I acted, or the impression I was giving someone else. I hadn’t been there in a long time and thinking about it now made me realize how much I missed it.

I made a sound and rolled away from the view. Missing a place was stupid. I didn’t have time to miss anything because I had a job to do and thanks to G.R., I was losing a couple days because I was here and not there.

It didn’t matter though. We could leave tonight and I would be back to work tomorrow. It was time I stepped it up a bit. The Target was familiar with me now; she seemed to feel safe in my presence and no longer suspicious. It was time to come up with a plan to get to her money. When a Target was a lonely person, when they didn’t have a large family or a network of people around them, it usually wasn’t very hard, but this time was different.

I needed an angle. Maybe I could somehow get into her bank account through the fundraiser I was supposed to be helping her with. A dull ache began behind my eyes and I knew it was going to be a long day.

I would rather eat a bucket of nails and wash them down with a glass of bleach than go back to Alaska tomorrow and spend time with the Target.

Flinging the down-filled covers off me, I got out of bed and snatched my cell off the nightstand. I should send her a text, something just to keep myself in her thoughts, to endear her to me a little more. Maybe a picture of the empty morning beach.

Everything in my body rebelled at the idea of sharing any part of this place with her. If I could smack some sense into myself I probably would have because my body and my mind needed to get with the program. I’d never had a problem faking my feelings for any Target before. Hell, this Target should be even easier because I didn’t have to pretend to have romantic feelings for her because she thought I was gay.

Maybe the pressure G.R. was putting on was getting to me. The impossible assignment, the extra job, my sister…

I was starting to crack under the pressure. I mean, I was feeling things for the love of God.

I walked to the wall of windows to snap the picture. Like it or not, I was going to do this job. When this was done and the Reaper understood that I wasn’t someone he could yank around, then I would go home, take a break, and get back to normal.

Before I could lift the phone, something caught my eye. A person walking at the edge of the water. It was Frankie. She was already down there, slowly walking along the shore as the waves rushed in soaking her feet.

The ocean wind was pulling at the hem of the cotton dress she wore, pulling it back and molding the fabric to the curves of her body. A body that my hands had been all over last night.

My muscles tightened at the memory of how she felt beneath me. Sinful. It was the only word that could capture how it felt to have her in my arms. That woman was a ball of passion, a pot of bubbling water about to boil over. Her kind of passion wasn’t something a person found every day.

I knew she felt something for me. I saw it in her eyes. I felt it crackle between us. But I also saw her disgust for me, the hatred of who I was and what I did. As I watched her bend down to pick up a few seashells in the sand, I wondered which side was bigger, the hate or the desire.

A text came through my phone and it beeped in my hand. Irritation cracked through me at the disruption. It was the irritation that gave me clarity. All these feelings I’d been having, the lack of interest in my job… the guilt. I wasn’t cracking under the pressure from G.R.

It was her.

She was the reason I was changing. She was the reason I was losing focus on my goals.

Feeling disgusted with myself, I looked down at the text.

Don’t think he’s noticed yet. Everything go as planned?

It was from Storm. He was keeping an eye on G.R. so we would know when he noticed his secret collection was gone. It hadn’t been easy getting those bodies and the soul out of there the other night, but we did it. Instead of keeping everything together in one place, we split up the bodies, Storm hiding two of them and me taking the girl and the jar with the soul in it.

I glanced inside my closet, making sure she was still there, and then looked under the bathroom sink at the jar.

All went as planned. Will be home tomorrow, I typed back.

Target is getting on a plane, he replied.

When?

First thing in the morning. It wasn’t morning yet in Alaska.

Thanks for the heads up.

Ugh. Where was she going? How long was she going to be gone? I didn’t remember her mentioning a trip to me, yet I hadn’t really talked to her since that day in the café when I rushed out of there. Ever since then I’d been too busy trying to find something to use against G.R. And too busy thinking about Frankie, the voice in my head whispered.