Rachel pursed her lips and looked at Agent 11, but he didn’t look bothered by the boy’s sass at all. In fact, he also didn’t seem bothered that the boy still hadn’t removed his hand from his shoulder.
Rachel looked from one to the other curiously, trying to guess what sort of relationship they had. She had always prided herself on reading people well, but now she was at a loss. Agent 11 and Sam Landon didn’t have the body language of friends; that she was sure of. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure. While she didn’t think they were lovers—Agent 11’s reluctance when it came to seducing male marks was well known—there was something there, something she couldn’t put her finger on.
For one thing, Agent 11 wasn’t one to look so at ease with someone all over his personal space. Rachel admired Dominic Bommer’s ability to convey emotions he didn’t feel, but even he couldn’t completely erase the barely noticeable tension in his muscles whenever someone got too close to him—tension that wasn’t there now.
How curious.
It was interesting that the agent’s guard wasn’t down at all; he just seemed to regard the redhead as… something safe? Perhaps something that was included in his personal bubble? Like an extension of him.
Curiouser and curiouser.
“Maybe,” Rachel conceded. “But the rules are there for a reason.” She looked at Agent 11 firmly. “It is explicitly stated in your contract that you can only tell your spouse about your job, or your appointed next-of-kin if you don’t have one. That’s it. So I’m afraid Sam can’t live with you. It would set a bad precedent for other agents.” Just thinking about it gave her a headache. She would be the one dealing with all the complaints and demands from other agents if she let Agent 11 get away with this.
Rachel pretended not to see Sam’s face fall when he realized she wasn’t budging on this. On the inside, she winced. She wasn’t heartless. She knew the kid had never really had a home, and now she was taking his home away again. She did feel sorry for him. But rules were rules, and she hadn’t become Head of MI6’s HR by being soft.
“Fine,” Agent 11 said. “I’ll fill out the necessary paperwork tomorrow.”
She blinked. “Pardon?”
Agent 11 rose to his feet. “I’ll put Sam as my next-of-kin.”
It took all her considerable self-control to keep herself from gaping.
Rachel said slowly, “You want this boy to be the person to make decisions concerning your health if you’re incapacitated?” For an active field agent, that was a legitimate concern, so it was an incredible show of trust.
Agent 11 gave her a cool look. “Yes, I’m aware what next-of-kin is.”
“Well,” she said, getting to her feet and glancing at the boy, who had a strange expression on his face. “I suppose it’s your right to choose whoever you want. I’ll show myself out.” She strode toward the door, her heels clicking loudly in the tense silence that fell over the room. “By the way,” she said, pausing with her hand on the door handle, “Amanda wants a status report on the Whitford mission.”
Agent 11 gave a clipped nod while Sam looked down.
Rachel let herself out, feeling more bewildered than she had been in years.
What was going on between those two?
* * *
As the door closed after Rachel, Sammy said quietly, without looking at him, “You don’t have to do it, you know. I can live somewhere else. I don’t want you to feel like you have to —”
“I wouldn’t tell her that if I didn’t want it,” Dominic said, shrugging. “There’s no one I trust more than you, anyway.”
His eyes suspiciously shiny, Sammy smiled at him, lunged forward, and hugged him hard, burying his face against Dominic’s throat.
Dominic hugged back.
They stood like that for a while, the room silent, as Sammy clung to him like a small child, his breathing unsteady and shaky, while Dominic pretended not to notice the wetness on his neck.
When Sammy lifted his head a few minutes later, he looked more composed. “Thanks, Nick,” he said thickly. “I’m—I’m honored that you trust me that much. I’m…” He swallowed and smiled. “I trust you more than anyone, too.”
Dominic returned the smile. “Good to know,” he said dryly. “Now that we’ve established mutual trust, I guess I can stop hiding the family heirlooms under my bed.”
Sammy laughed, his green eyes bright with mirth. “Family heirlooms, huh?” he said, his arms still looped around Dominic’s waist. “Are they valuable?”
Dominic made an affirmative sound, his chest tight with affection as he stared at Sammy’s grinning face. Fuck, he was so… Leaning in, he kissed Sammy on the nose. It wasn’t enough. His gaze dropped to Sammy’s generous, soft lips, and the urge to crush them with his own was nearly irresistible.
Bloody buggering hell.