Thunderstruck (Ramsey Security #1)

Never Explain Your Heart

I'm a man lost in heat. There's no other way to explain how Darla's on my mind the moment I doze off and still there when I wake up hours later. Sleeping and eating feel burdensome. I only want to return to the apartment and see Darla smile again.

In the elevator on my way upstairs, I get a text from Rafael. "Are you compromised?"

"Explain?" I type back.

"Are you emotionally compromised with the client?"

"Fuck off," I text back.

Rafael gives me a "LOL" and drops the subject. When Minka opens the door to the apartment, I show her my phone.

"Have you been gossiping?"

"No. I said nothing to no one. I'm loyal. I promise. Don't be mad."

Rolling my eyes at her feigned fear, I shove my phone back into my pocket.

"Saskia then."

"More likely Manny. Those married men are always digging around in other people's business."

"Fine. My fist will take it up with his face."

"I heard he's a biter, so be aware you might not get all your fingers back."

Smirking, I follow her into the security room.

"We might have a lurker," Minka says, typing on the laptop. "I noticed him when he was tying his shoes in front of the building. When I ran a scan with his features, I found four similar men have passed the building in the last 24 hours. He's staking out the place. I don't know if he's after Darla, but I called Rafael. He'll put a tail on the guy next time he comes around."

I stare at the bearded man's face frozen on the screen. He might be a simple criminal, looking to a score at any of the upscale apartments in the building. He could be an ex-boyfriend stalking a tenant. He could be many things, but I feel in my bones that he's hunting Darla.

"She's supposed to go to therapy today," Minka continues, "but I don't know if she'll leave her room at this rate."

"What's the problem?"

"She was grumpy last night. Tense about every noise. She woke up after I checked on her at six. She was in the shower for a long time. She's out now but even more edgy than last night. If I had to guess, you've been a bad influence on her."

Patting her head, I smile. "You're so cute when you're insecure."

Minka glares at me, but I know she's tired and ready to head home for a nap.

"Go," I tell her.

"What if she freaks when she sees you? I should stick around just in case."

"Do what you need to do, Minka, but I have this handled."

"Sao Paulo handled or Giza handled?"

"Sao Paulo."

Minka says nothing while I make my way down the hallway. I step into Darla's bedroom and spot her curled up in the chair. Her face is hidden behind wet hair, so I don't know what to expect. She surprises me by jumping up and running to me. Her embrace isn't romantic. She's in a panic and needs me. Somehow, Darla wanting comfort is sexier than any flirting in the world.

Holding her for a long time, I feel her struggling to remain calm. My brain says to let her go before she panics. My brain isn't in charge though, so I hold her against me with one arm. My free hand caresses her wet blonde hair.

Darla stares up at me, wanting to say something. When she doesn't, I focus on the crinkled skin between her furrowed brow. Without thinking of consequences, I lean down and kiss the spot.

Her reaction is slow moving, and I nearly see her brain working out the problem. Once she panics though, Darla jerks away and runs to the bathroom. Again, I don't think before I follow. I find her scrubbing at the skin where I kissed.

"He kissed me there," she mutters, clawing at the spot with her nails.

I take her hands in mine and force her to face me. "I'm not Locke, and you're not Rose. That's what he called you, right?"

Nodding, she looks to the mirror, still obsessed with the spot I kissed.

"One day soon," I whisper, letting go of her hands and watching her struggle not to touch the offending spot, "Locke will be dead. I don't know if he'll end up in the ground or cremated. I just know he'll be dead, and you won't."

Darla focuses on me, and I realize she likes imagining Locke dead. The last time I mentioned his death, she didn't seem relieved by the conversation. Now her eyes light up.

"How do you think he'll die?" she asks, crossing her arms so her hands will behave and not return to the spot I know she's still obsessing over.

"I suspect he'll end up with a shot to the head. Easiest way to kill a protected man is to get nowhere near him. I'd like to shoot him in the throat personally. Let him know for a minute how he's about to die before the end comes."

Darla sighs. "I don't know how to behave appropriately."

"Screw appropriate," I say softly. "I'm not behaving appropriately. Even knowing how upset you got from a peck on the forehead, I have an incredible urge to kiss you right now. I'm also very curious about what you're hiding under these sweats. Do you think it was appropriate for me to tell you any of that?"

Darla holds my gaze, and I don't know what's going through her head. She's an open book one minute and then a puzzle the next.

"Don't kiss me," she finally says.