“And I’m crazy about you, too, but every man in my life, including you, has tried to make my decisions for me. I’m done letting that happen.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“You’ve already decided what I’ll feel about you when you testify. Because you think I can’t handle the truth of your past.”
“I know you can’t.”
Her eyes flash. “I decide what I can handle, and honestly, I don’t know how I’ll handle what you’ve done, I won’t pretend I do. I can’t know, but neither can you.”
“I know,” I insist. “I know.”
“What I know,” she says, poking my chest, “is that lies hurt. Lies I can’t take. Honesty matters to me.”
“I have always been honest with you, Pri.”
“I know. That’s my point. Be honest with yourself and me right here, right now. I know we’re in a cave together, but if you just want us to step back, to be all business—”
My hands come down on her arms. “I don’t want that at all.”
“Want and need are two different things. So maybe you don’t want to step back, but if you need—”
“No. I don’t need to step back. I told you. I’m crazy about you, which is why I’m trying to do right by you.”
“Right by me?” she asks incredulously. “What does that even mean?”
“I know the fair thing to do, the right thing, is to step back from us and stick to all business until this is over.”
She gives my chest a hard shove and does just that, steps back. I let her when all I want to do is pull her close again. This reaction, this absolute need for her, is new to me and dangerous to her.
“You’re right,” she says. “All business is best. We broke rules. We crossed lines. I know.” But there is a slight tremble to her bottom lip that says she doesn’t know.
I don’t know either.
But today has been a solid reminder that the ones I love end up hurt. Or worse, dead.
There are things I want to say to her, most of which start with “when this is over” but I stop myself. When this is over, she’ll know who I really am, and this, us, will really be over.
I step around the sheet and leave her there, close enough to protect her, but too far away to touch.Chapter NinePRI
The minute Adrian disappears out of sight, I collapse against the cavern wall and squeeze my eyes shut. Adrian just shut me down, pushed me away. And it hurts. Obviously, I fell hard for him.
And that is what I know.
What else explains the thundering of my heart beneath my hand now balled right at that tight spot between my breasts? What else explains the way I hang on his words, and welcome his touch when I have had no other in so very long? What else explains that even with murder and mayhem around me, he brings a smile to my lips without even trying. And what else explains just how affected I am by the way he’s pushed me away?
Nothing, but I fell hard for him.
And now, he’s pushed me away.
Logically, my sane, educated mind knows that’s the smart thing anyway. I do. I completely understand that reality, but I’m back to my pounding heart beneath my fist. Back to how much it hurts. Still, I force my logical mind to take over again. He’s damaged, deeply, perhaps irreparably damaged. He doesn’t believe I can want him. He’s protecting himself, and me. Nothing will change where we are right now, but full exposure, and I’m not even sure an immunity deal will be enough. I believe Adrian will wait as long as he can to talk to me and tell me as little as possible to make our case in court. Considering this is all going public, to be telecast live and in a big way, I can’t blame him.
Bottom line, both of us need the war to be over. Both of us have put everything on the line to take down Waters, and I need to remember that, him more so than me. He will always be “that guy” once he testifies on national television. The best thing I can do for both of us is to convict Waters. That’s my job, and that needs to be my focus. I push off the wall, and I’m remarkably calmer now. I’m focused. We’re alive. We are on the right track to justice. Putting sexual tension aside, for now, is a good thing.
Resolved to focus on my duty, and taking down Waters is my duty, I determine a need to talk through my Deleon strategy with Adrian. With this in mind, I round the sheet, and Adrian’s presence jolts me anew as if I wasn’t just touching him. Just that easily he consumes me. He’s on the floor, leaning on the wall, his long, powerful legs stretched before him, and he looks ruggedly male—so damn good looking. That’s how it works for men. They can be muddy and weary and they just enhance the manly factor. For me, I’m pretty sure I just look like a wet mess.