Cold as Ice - Anne Stuart [91]
“I was just there. It’s been searched at least once, by Harry’s people, and they’re watching it pretty closely, just to make certain you don’t show up. Harry trusts Takashi as much as he trusts anyone, which means not at all, and he doesn’t leave things to chance. Which is why you’re not going back there until Harry is dead.”
“Why you? Why did they send you to rescue me?”
“I’m the one who botched the initial mission. It was my responsibility.”
“Punishment for screwing up?”
“You could say so.” He rolled on his side to look at her through the shadows. “You know, this isn’t a girls’ sleepover where we can gossip all night. I need to get some sleep.”
“Just figure it’s part of your penance. I know if you had any choice in the matter you’d be half a world away. Tell them to send someone to relieve you. Tell them I hate you and I can’t stand being around you and they need to send someone else to babysit me.”
“They don’t care what you want or don’t want, Genevieve,” he said wearily. “And there’s no one to send.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they didn’t send me. As far as the Committee is concerned, you’re collateral damage, just part of the fortunes of war, and they don’t waste manpower on unimportant details like you.”
She swallowed. “If you’re not manpower then what are you?”
“On vacation. My time is my own, and I can do what I want with it. Even killers get time off. We get excellent benefits as well, if you ever think you might want to change careers.”
She felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet and everything she believed was suddenly in question. “The only person I’ve ever wanted to kill was you,” she said.
“Was? You no longer want to kill me? Things are progressing.”
“You came after me on your own? Why? Don’t tell me true love—you already said I was nothing special.”
He lay back on the bed, and she could see the faint smile at his mouth. “That rankled, didn’t it? It was meant to. Where have you spent the last three years—in a convent? You have the sexual inventiveness of a nun.”
“I didn’t want to sleep with you.”
“Sure you did. You just wanted to be talked into it.”
“I really hate you,” she said fiercely. “I know why you decided to come after me. You weren’t through making my life a living hell and you wanted to add to my misery.”
“That’s it,” he agreed in a pleasant voice. “Now, either shut up and go to sleep or I’ll find something to use as a gag. For some stupid-ass reason, I’ve decided to save your life, and I’ll do a better job of it if I get some sleep.”
“I didn’t ask—”
“Shut up, Genny. Or I’ll shut you up.”
It wasn’t the threat that silenced her, a threat she knew he’d carry out. It was his calling her “Genny.” It shook her, it always shook her. After all these years he was the only one alive who called her that, a name she associated with tenderness and safety. He probably wouldn’t be alive that much longer, given his profession.
And neither would she, if she didn’t let him sleep. So what if she was wide awake, obsessed by every little thing, including the man in the next bed? She wasn’t going to make sense of it, or him, no matter how hard she tried. All she could do was lie there, her eyes staring up at the stained ceiling and wait….
She was asleep. Peter had been wondering whether she was going to stay awake, prattling at him, for the entire night. The woman could talk—probably part of the curse of her being a lawyer—and he was a man who didn’t want to talk. At least to her, right now.
He didn’t know why the hell he told her it had been his choice to come after her. She was better off thinking he was there under duress. Which was, in fact, the truth. Something was forcing him to be there, to come after her, to pluck her from the jaws of danger. He just didn’t know what it was.
He could rule out conscience. That was a luxury he couldn’t afford. And it wasn’t her sexual prowess, though he’d deliberately insulted her on that one. She was afraid of him,