He let himself into his penthouse.
Bennett tossed his keys on the hall table, and the lights clicked on automatically.
He was tired, and frustration was a hard ball in his gut.
Thoughts of Hadley weren’t far away. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the couch. He crossed the wooden floor to the built-in bar, grabbed a Waterford crystal glass, and a bottle of his Balvenie 40-year-old Scotch. He splashed a healthy amount into the glass, swirled, and took a large sip.
He’d spent the afternoon watching Hadley in meetings, trying to keep his gaze off her. He’d held her in his arms now, had his hands on her, so he knew exactly how she felt. He didn’t think he’d quite succeeded not looking taken with her. Hadley had sent him some hot glares—which hadn’t helped. And his CFO had been shooting him a few funny looks.
He sipped some more Scotch, and moved to the living room windows. His curved balcony outside was a favorite place to spend time in the summer, but right now it was still too cold.
Hyde Park was a dark space ahead, with the glittering lights of the city in the distance.
His temples throbbed with a headache. All the emotion and stress had to go somewhere.
He sank into an armchair. “Lights off.”
The lights dimmed away, leaving him in the dark.
He’d started Secura with one goal. To help. Help the people who sacrificed to serve their countries and protect other people.
It had filled the dark, gaping hole inside him. The one where his nightmares lurked. He closed his eyes. He saw Hamed’s face, Paul’s, and now Archie’s.
Why the fuck had this L’Orage resurfaced and targeted him? Why was he messing with Secura?
Bennett knew he had to turn it off. He needed to recharge and start the fight again tomorrow. He’d learned that valuable lesson in the SAS. You had to grab rest and sleep where you could, to recharge the batteries.
As he swirled the last of his drink, he stared out the window sightlessly, his thoughts turning to Hadley.
Damn. He drained the rest of the Scotch.
You don’t deserve her. She deserves much better than you.
Yeah, yeah, I know. He pulled out his phone, and turned it over and over in his hand.
He wondered what she was doing. Unsurprisingly, she pulled off the new communications role perfectly. No one at Secura suspected she wasn’t exactly what she said she was. Smart and competent were a sexy combination.
But did Hadley ever let her hair down? Did she ever let go of that control?
Some shithead had hurt her. Would she ever let a man hold her close, let him take care of her softer parts? They were there, he was sure of it, just heavily guarded. He wanted all her secrets, wanted to know every single thing about her.
Would you share all your ugly secrets with her?
His throat tightened. Then he grabbed the phone and stabbed at the screen.
“It’s late, Mr. Knightley,” her voice came through the line.
He closed his eyes. “I know. How did the afternoon go?”
“You hire good people. And I had an update from Hex. Kitty Wentworth went nowhere that sparked any alarm bells. She spent time at home, the gym, had friends over for a dinner party. Her son is getting married next weekend, in some big, swanky wedding at a country estate, so she’s busy planning that.”
Bennett grunted. “I’m sure it’ll be a spectacle.”
“Been to a few?”
“Yes. There are always lots of flowers and people in expensive clothes.”
She snorted. “Like you can talk. I’ve seen your Savile Row suits.”