One Wild Wedding Night_ Getaway - Leslie Kelly [19]
But the ravenous sex God wasn’t the one who walked through the door a short time later. As soon as she saw the tightness of his shoulders and the frown on his handsome face, Bridget knew who’d returned. Not the nice salesman. Not the erotic lover.
She was once again in the company of SpecialAgentWillis.
“What happened?” she asked, sitting up. She grabbed the blanket they’d used during the night and covered herself, feeling awkward when before she’d felt completely free and uninhibited.
“I got within cell phone range of my partner.”
Bridget closed her eyes and began to shake her head.
“It looks like everything’s fine.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. “What?”
“When they realized you weren’t going to be that easy a target, Marty’s former drug buddies made a move on Marty’s wife, figuring that would shut him up for good.”
Bridget gasped. Marty’s wife was a nice lady. Stupid to stick with an icky criminal with a bad toupee, but nice.
“She’s okay. They caught the guy. He’s talking, as is Marty. He was so angry they went after his family, he offered to cooperate fully.”
Meaning…“I don’t have to testify.”
He met her eye and shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” Walking across the room, he squatted down beside her and lifted a hand to her cheek. “Thank God.”
He looked truly relieved about that—yet his mood remained somber. When he spoke again, she understood why. “So there’s no need to remain here. You can go back to your life.” Cocking a brow and sighing, he added, “And I should get to the office.”
“Why?” Then understanding washed over her. “You weren’t supposed to grab me, were you.” It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“And you’re in trouble?”
“As I told my boss when I called in, I don’t care.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “How did he respond?”
Another shrug. “We had words.”
“Serious ones?”
“I told him to go screw himself.”
“Oh, boy,” Bridget mumbled, lifting a hand to her brow.
“I did say with all due respect first,” he added, as if that made everything better. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “He didn’t handle this thing by the book, either, using you for bait. And if my head rolls, so does his.” As if he’d said as much as he was going to say on the matter, he reached for her dress and handed it to her. “Now, we should get ready. I’m sure your family’s worried.”
“You mean you want to leave? Now?” she asked, so startled she didn’t dwell on the using-you-for-bait comment.
He thrust a hand through his hair. “It’s time to leave. You said yourself this was a one-shot thing, a physical escape from reality by two people stuck together for a few days.”
Bridget blinked rapidly, shocked that he was so ready to end their incredible interlude. Then again, that interlude had only happened because he’d been protecting her—even against his own self-interests. Now that the danger was apparently finished, he was ready to return her to her real world and go back to his. With no looking back at the few hours they’d shared here.
“I kidnapped you. You had no choice.”
Oh, she’d had a choice, at least as far as their lovemaking went. How could he not see that? Because she certainly did.
And she wanted more. Was it possible he didn’t feel the same way, even after the incredible things they’d shared?
She wanted to ask him, but the words wouldn’t come. Dean was already loading up their few things and carrying them out to his SUV, as if not trusting himself to continue the conversation. The quieter he got, the heavier her heart grew. He meant it. He was taking her home, whether she liked it or not.
Finally, when he handed her her coat and said it was time to leave—again, so aloof, so impersonal—it felt like her heart cracked completely. Like one of the icicles falling off the roof of the cabin to the ground below.
It was the sudden, unexpected crash of one of those icicles that snapped her out of her self-pity. She’d been in a fog since he got