Val chuckled. “Touché.” Smith was a verbal sparring partner like no other. If he wasn’t in the mood to disclose anything about himself, he was a vault without a combination.
“What are you doing here, Val?” He put his coffee cup on the small table and turned to face her.
His jaw ground together, and she sensed the barriers she’d torn down start to go back up again. Damn it. She stopped with her coffee cup halfway to her lips and spoke before she took a sip. “What do you mean?”
* * *
Smith blinked at her question.What did he mean? Wasn’t it obvious? Okay, he’d spell it out for her.“Why are you doing this? Why me? What’s your endgame?” He gave a harsh laugh and rubbed his face with his hand. “Val, I’m not a dirty child that you can brush off, dress up, and teach manners, so you can parade him around polite society. I have a past I’m not proud of that has made me the man I am. You’re in a losing proposition if you’re betting on reforming me.” He sighed as the anguish of his past consumed him, lowering his eyes to his shoes and shaking his head. No, he wouldn’t allow that to happen. He spoke clearly, but quietly. She needed to hear and understand him. “I won’t be used again.” Not even by the beautiful woman sitting next to him. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
She sat her coffee cup down and stared at him. Her blue eyes narrowed a bit. “I’m not trying to change you or use you. I know about your past. About that son of a bitch Simmons and what he did to you.”
Smith’s head snapped up so hard his neck cracked. Hatred surged to the surface of his consciousness in a tidal wave.That fucking bastard. He glanced around and hissed lowly, “What do you know?”
Val’s whisper returned just as urgently, “That he made you do what you did. I don’t know what he was holding over your head to make you do it. I wasn’t told, and I don’t care. I’ve made my judgment about you from my interactions with you. Youdon’tscare me, Smithson. Youcan’thurt me. I am dead certain I’d never let you placemein a position to be hurt, nor wouldIdo that toyou.” She moved closer to him, put her hand on his leg, and whispered, “I work for Guardian. You know that, but you’ve never asked what I do for them.”
Dear God.He swallowed hard. His mind raced, grasping at thoughts that flashed by, chased by others that he couldn’t prevent. At least she didn’t know what Simmons had used to blackmail him. He’d been able to bury most of those memories and all the evidence—he thought. He never questioned Dixon Simmons when he said he’d deleted the evidence. Perhaps he should have. He rubbed his face with his hands. That woman was of legal age when he had relations with her. Dixon Simmons’ father, that bastard, had fabricated documentation showing her to be too damn young. Criminally young. He closed his eyes. He would never, never take advantage of achild. That fucker Simmons had backed him into a corner with his morals and kept him there using a video of him having sex with the woman and made-up birth documents.
His stomach rolled as nausea lurched up his throat. “Simmons … I never want to talk about that time in my life. Ever.” No, he’d never asked what role she played at Guardian. His guess was she was in a high-ranking administrative position. “What you do for Guardian doesn’t matter.”
She shook her head. “It actually does. I do select jobs for Guardian in much the same way you worked for Simmons.”
What in the hell!He jerked back as if she’d slapped him and bit out in a whisper, “No. Guardian doesn’t dothat.” He’d murdered people for Simmons. Innocent people who didn’t deserve to die.
She cast a gaze around the lounge and leaned in. “Come closer.” It took a long minute before he leaned forward. God, she had no idea what he’d done. What he’d beenforcedto do.
She whispered in his ear, “There’s an international entity that targets monsters like Simmons, but the demons they go after act on a far grander scale than that bastard ever dreamed of going. There are assets worldwide that hunt people who evade justice, who are responsible for genocide and unimaginable atrocities, and who cause the suffering of multitudes. Smith, I’ve experienced your blackness. I live in it. I’m not here to change you. I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”
The attendant stopped by and could obviously feel the tension between them as she dropped off the pastries and didn’t offer to refill their coffee. He waited until the waitress was out of earshot, even though they were still whispering so low they could barely hear each other. Alarm bells and warning flags were sending up caution markers right and left.Why him? What was Val’s impetus? Why now? Why the trip? Why the casual meetups for the last few months?Nothing calculated into a solid answer. “Why are you telling me this?”
She stared at him and cocked her head. “Because you asked me why. You deserve the truth.”
“And yet you haven’t answeredthatquestion.” He held her gaze and whispered, “Why me? Our so-calledsharedpast experiences aside, why me?”
She let her eyes drop to his lips and then lift back to his eyes. “You felt the connection we have. You can’t deny it.” He stared at her but only nodded. Once. Hell, yes, he felt it, but could it all just be about a sexual attraction? With him? Lord, if life had taught him anything, no one was polite, nice, or kind to him without wanting something. There had to be something more. Some underlying reason a woman as beautiful as Val would pay any attention to him.
She leaned forward. “I’m not playing with you. I don’t want to change you. I’m getting to know a man who intrigues me. I’m touring Europe with him. Yes, perhaps I’m looking for an adult relationship for however long that lasts between us. This trip, a season, a year? Who knows. Or perhaps you don’t find me attractive. I’m not going to lie, I would be disappointed, but I won’t force the relationship if you don’t want it. No matter about the attraction, we’re both lonely as hell. I can see it in you just as I can see it in myself. We can still travel; more will never happen if it isn’t in the cards for us.”
Not a single experience in his life allowed him to believe any of her explanations. No. He looked around. Was she setting him up? Or … God, why hadn’t he … “This is a joke, right? Am I a joke to you? Is all this, the lunches and dinners, a game to you?”
She pulled back a bit. “What? A game? I don’t understand.”
Smithson turned and looked around the lounge. “Look at the people in here, then look at me. I’m not like them.”
Val blinked at him. “Thank God. I wouldn’t waste the time of day on most of the people in this lounge. I don’t consider this friendship a game.”
Friendship?Yeah, he’d guessed that was what it was. But holy hell … she couldn’t be serious. He raked his hand through his hair, frustrated, but kept his voice low, “I am not someone who should be with a woman who looks like you. Iamnothing. Ihavenothing.”
She leaned forward, putting herself within an inch of his face, and tugged on his shirt. He leaned back to put her in focus. Her blue eyes blazed with anger. He pulled away, but she grabbed his shirt and tugged him back before she whispered, “Bullshit. You’re a brilliant man. I’ve seen that, so listen up, Smithson Young. First, nobody, not a soul in this world, is allowed to tellmewhat kind of manIcan be attracted to. Second, you aren’t a nobody. You’re the man who cared for an old woman to pay a debt he didn’t really owe. Guardian took you in to look after Mrs. Henshaw because theyknewyou could be redeemed when you’d been screwed over by that fucker Simmons. I think you’re sexy, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone tell me otherwise.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
Too shocked to move, he froze but took in every sensation of her lips against hers, her soft body warm against his chest. She finished and moved back a fraction of an inch. Smith tried one final time, whispering against her lips, “Bad shit follows me. You should run away.”
“I don’t run. I never have, and I never will.” She gasped when his arms circled her and pulled her toward him. God help him; he was going to give in to her. There would be a price, and he might not survive it, but damn it, she was irresistible.
He whispered, “I warned you,” before he lowered his head and kissed her.
2
Holding Val was heaven and hell in the same instance. He kept his kiss chaste. She wasn’t the type of woman to maul in public. Too soon, he ended the contact, and she sighed. Her warmth against him was something he steadfastly refused to believe could happen. He’d killed people, and still, having her in his arms fucking terrified him. His heart pounded a million miles a minute, and that fear kept him mute. God, he couldn’t mess it up. Yet, it was guaranteed to go sideways. It always did.