The Wedding Trap (Second Service #1)(14)
Author: Adrienne Bell

"Are you okay?" a calm voice asked behind her.

Beth shot up to her feet.

Charlie was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist, giving her a clear view of his chiseled bare chest. It was every bit as glorious as she’d hoped it would be, but she didn’t spare it a second glance.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered. "Everything’s cool."

Dear God, she shouldn’t have done that. When would she ever learn to listen to that warning voice in her head? She liked it so much better just a few minutes ago. Back when she’d been able to believe the fantasy she’d created about this stranger she was sharing intimate space with. That he was some kind of gentleman thief—more Robin Hood than common criminal.

His eyes went from her to the open closet door. His gaze became guarded. Beth tensed, waiting for what came next.

"What’s going on?" he asked, his voice even and measured.

"Nothing," she said too quickly. "I just dropped something."

"In the closet?"

"I was just poking around the room." She tried to play it cool, but she couldn’t have acted guiltier if she tried. But she was guilty, and that guilt was quickly turning into fear.

He was armed. Maybe heavily. Who knew what else was in that bag? He could have a whole damn armory in there. What in the world was he planning to do with it?

He didn’t move away from the door. He just stood there, his eyes steady on her. The seconds crept by in silence, and Beth felt every one of them. She felt the pressure to say something weighing heavy on her shoulders, but there wasn’t any explanation she could give. She could ask him what he was planning to do with the gun, but she feared he might answer her.

"Did something happen?" he asked. There was a world of meaning behind that question.

"Nope. Everything’s fine."

He took a step forward, and she skittered back. He stopped. His grip tightened on his towel, the first sign of tension that she’d seen in him.

"That’s right, Beth. Everything is fine." He said the words slowly. His voice was low. He was trying to calm her down, she realized. She questioned his motivations. Was she really safe, or did he just want to keep her quiet?

After another second, he started for the closet. Beth pressed her back into the wall behind her as he passed. He glanced inside and seemed satisfied that nothing had been touched. He slid the door closed.

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" he said, turning toward her.

Beth shook her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He inched forward, but Beth didn’t sense any menace in his movements. Still, she remembered the shining barrel of the gun in the closet. People didn’t keep those things around for petting puppies.

She forced herself to lift her head and look him in the eye. "I just want to know if everything is going to be all right.”

His shoulders fell a little. It was a convoluted sentiment and yet he seemed to understand her perfectly. He leaned in a little closer, but Beth kept her back pressed against the wall.

"Everything is going to be fine," he assured her. "You’re safe. Your family is safe. Your friends are safe." He spoke slowly, giving her time to let the words sink in.

She nodded, wanting to believe him for the same strange reason that she’d believed everything he’d said since the moment she met him, even knowing that this time she had every reason not to.

But she did, though not with the same blind trust that she had given before. He hadn’t done anything to hurt her. All he’d done was help her. Still, she couldn’t help but be wary. She wasn’t stupid.

Beth tilted her head to the side, concern rushing back over her. There was one person he hadn’t mentioned.

"Are you safe?" she asked.

The question seemed to throw him. For a brief moment there was a hitch in his relaxed demeanor. Tension flashed in his eyes, though Beth couldn’t imagine why.

He shrugged but didn’t answer. Beth swallowed past the lump in her throat. No answer was all the answer she needed.

"I guess you still aren’t going to tell me what’s really going on here," she said.

He shook his head slowly. "Good guess."

Chapter 5

Alex uncrossed his legs and tried to resettle himself into a more comfortable spot in his seat. The antique couches that lined the lobby were nice to look at, but they weren’t exactly plush. The cushions were painfully thin and the backings were as hard as stone. It wasn’t the type of thing he usually minded. He’d done surveillance in much worse conditions for longer periods of time without a single complaint.

He couldn’t blame his lack of sleep. Sure, he’d only dipped in and out of the lightest sleep last night. His mind had buzzed, working out the details in this new little wrinkle in his assignment. That this new wrinkle happened to be an attractive and intriguing woman sleeping not twenty feet from him had nothing to do with it. But Alex knew from experience what sleep deprivation felt like, and this wasn’t it.

No, what had him squirming in his seat was the look in her eyes as she’d left the room this morning. She was scared.

He could understand why she would be scared of him. It was a perfectly rational reaction. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.

She was scared for him.

No one ever worried about him. No one. Ever.

All morning he’d struggled against the urge to reach out and pull her close. To wrap his arms around her and feel that soft mouth under his again. He’d passed it off as simple lust, something he understood well. But with that one look, she had floored him. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t know how to feel.

Sitting in the windowsill, she’d been so open. So truthful. She’d thought of him when she didn’t have to. She’d bought him breakfast after all the trouble and confusion he had caused. It was funny to think about it, but that muffin might have been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Alex picked up the tablet at his side and pretended to read. He had to get back to thinking about his assignment, instead of a pair of soulful brown eyes.

He’d been in this spot for an hour now, and no one familiar or suspicious had passed by. He hadn’t really expected any action. John’s DHS team had all the entrances and exits covered. They would let him know if anyone of interest was on the move. If anything was going to happen this morning between the Munoz’s and his CIA leak it was doubtful that it would happen in clear view of the lobby.

He could have complained that he’d wasted a whole morning, but that wasn’t why he was down here on this ridiculous excuse for a couch. Not really.