FBI had given the case back to the DEA. DEA had apparently held off raiding the place, wanting to nail the top dog. They suspected the Russian mob, but the kingpin was a slippery bastard who’d so far evaded capture. The guy she’d killed had been traveling on a Ukrainian passport, but he was probably just the link man. She shuddered as she remembered the moment she’d pulled the trigger. No amount of training could prepare you for killing another human being, but she wasn’t sorry. She had too much of a strong desire to live to be sorry.
She understood why the DEA was angry. She would have been furious if it were the other way around. If she’d known they had the bar under observation, she would never have gone near the joint. But she hadn’t. DEA might have surveillance footage, but the chances of them sharing it with her now she’d busted open their op? Better chance of smashing the glass ceiling and becoming the first female FBI Director.
A tap on the window had her jumping in her seat. She jerked around, and Dominic Sheridan stood beside her car, dressed down in a pair of gray sweats and a blue plaid shirt with the two top buttons left undone. He was barefoot.
He looked awful. Both eyes were black, and an ugly gash split the bridge of his nose. Right arm rested in a sling. Her heart gave an unsteady thump at the sight of him, probably because he’d startled her. He still looked too handsome for her peace of mind, but she’d always been attracted to bad boy types, so the battered features actually worked for her more than his clean-cut side did.
There was obviously something wrong with her. Not exactly breaking news.
He stared at her, waiting for her to get out of the car. She lifted her chin. What was she even doing here? Talking about the case, pursuing this investigation, was going to get her fired.
Large splats of rain started pinging off the windshield. He just stood there. The guy was gonna get soaked.
She cracked the door, and he opened it the rest of the way. Then he held out his good hand to assist her out of the car, but she didn’t take it. She sat there looking at him.
He didn’t seem mad at her reticence to touch him. He appeared patient and understanding.
Goddamn it.
She didn’t want his pity, and she wasn’t used to chivalry. Men were a mystery to her. She had a younger brother and nephew she adored, a father who’d died when she was only seven years old, and a series of boyfriends who’d never quite fit. Van had been the best man she’d ever known. And Van had told her over and over again that Dominic Sheridan was a great guy.
Still, trust wasn’t something she easily bestowed.
“I don’t blame you for being angry, Ava. It isn’t fair that you’ve been suspended and I haven’t. I will do everything in my power to make sure you are fully reinstated.”
With those words he broke the spell she was under.
She turned to grab her laptop case and purse from the passenger seat. Sheridan insisted on taking the items from her. She told herself not to be charmed. This was work, and she was more than capable of carrying her own belongings. She’d fought hard to be treated as an equal. He carried them anyway.
“Thanks for insisting on the blood work last night. They found GHB in my system. You saved my ass.” He held her gaze unwaveringly as she got out of the car. “And for taking care of Ranger. If anything had happened to him…I don’t know what I’d do.”
Rain dampened his short hair.
“You’d have done the same for me.” How she knew that she wasn’t sure, but she did.
“Were you hurt last night?” His low voice resonated through her bones.
Rain dotted her skin with pinpricks of sensation. She waited for the lecture on being reckless, but it didn’t come. She shook her head. “Feldman wasn’t hostile, and I handled the four guys in the bar.”
His eyes widened despite their bruised state. Obviously, he hadn’t known there were four men at the bar.
She should shut her mouth before she got herself into more trouble, but she’d never been good at backing down or backing off. She probably needed to figure that out before she got herself fired or killed.
“I made a mistake going back there alone,” she admitted.
“You did what any good agent would do when following a lead—but in the future if you do something like that, send the status update to someone who isn’t in the ICU.” His quick flash of eyebrows told her he’d received her text message about visiting Feldman.
She nodded wearily. She felt more chastened by his calm understanding than by Ray Aldrich chewing out her ass. “You’re okay? Aside from the obvious.” She indicated his face and arm.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry you were hurt. Sorry they destroyed your ride.”
He shrugged. “I got off lucky. I’m glad you weren’t targeted.”
If she’d finished her beer it could easily have been her looking like a bit actor from a Rocky movie.
Sheridan’s expression remained impassive, but his gaze slipped briefly to her lips, and a shiver of arousal ran over her flesh.
He took a step back, and the moment passed. “You’re getting wet. Let’s go inside.”
The rain intensified, and they started jogging toward the house. From his pained expression moving fast hurt, but he kept up the pace before pushing open the extra-wide front door. Ranger greeted them with a tennis ball in his mouth and a tail that never stopped sawing the air.
“Nice place,” she muttered, after greeting the dog.
Sheridan placed her belongings on a long, thin table in the hallway and ducked into a small room down the corridor. He came out with two fluffy towels, one of which he tossed to her. She wiped it over her hair, face and neck, grateful she hadn’t bothered with makeup after the lousy couple of hours’ sleep she’d managed to steal.
She wasn’t trying to impress this man with anything except her abilities as an agent.
Sure.
She looked around. The structure hinted at possibly being an old converted barn that had been added to. She shrugged out of her wet blazer and slipped off her shoes and left them beside the door. The air conditioning caused gooseflesh to rise up on her arms.