Her tone walked a fine line between playful and mocking, and he knew that no matter how wholeheartedly Eve committed to making a dent in the East Side’s drug trade, getting manipulated into it didn’t sit well.
After what happened earlier in the afternoon, getting called “Chad” didn’t sit well with him.
“You fired him?” Sorenson asked.
“Right after he called 911,” she said lightly.
A broad grin spread across Sorenson’s face, marking the moment Eve went from other to ally. Even Hawthorn looked mildly amused as he said, “Thanks, Eve.”
They could laugh at his expense, but this was no joke. His father’s words echoed in his ears. Emotion shows weakness, Matthew. Control your only strength, your only friend. You do the right thing for the people who trust and depend on you.
On the East Side bad things happened to people who cooperated with the police. Especially bad, brutal things happened to women. He was now Eve’s first line of defense against Lyle Murphy or the Strykers or whoever was after her.
Back to the bag. And cold showers.
“Okay,” Hawthorn said, gathering up the photographs and closing his laptop. “For the time being, Matt stays undercover at Eye Candy. We wait for the next move and take it from there.”
She stood to the side as Matt closed and locked the door, double-checking the locks and chain more than was actually necessary. When he turned around, he found her leaning against the wall not twelve inches from him. Her feet were bare, and wavy strands escaped from her ponytail, gently brushing her flushed cheeks. The skin of her throat and collarbone gleamed with a thin film of moisture, and he flashed back to watching pink infuse her face and neck as she tipped over the edge into orgasm.
He had to get new AC in this house.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Uh-oh,” Eve said. “I’ve seen that look before.”
“What look?” he replied. He’d learned to control his face from a very early age but controlling anything around Eve wasn’t going well.
“It’s Sunday night. We’re here until Tuesday, alone in your house, with nothing to do except stay out of sight. It’s the perfect setup for thirty-six hours of adult fun with chocolate syrup and whipped cream and whatever else you have at hand, but that look that says as much as you want to do this, you’re not going to,” she said dryly. “I’m very familiar with that look.”
Shoulders square, hands loose at his sides, he looked her right in the eye. “You’re right. I’m not,” he said.
She absently tugged her hair loose from the rubber band, gently massaging her scalp and sending the now-dry strands tumbling into her face. “So you want to start pretending we don’t send up sparks every time we look at each other?” she asked as she tamed the glimmering black mass and secured it with the rubber band.
For the first time in their relationship the circumstances were clearly defined, objectives identified. Protect her while they took down Murphy. Keep her physically and emotionally whole, so when this was over, she could walk away unscathed. People, especially women, got attached when they had sex. Denying what he wanted was best for her.
But he couldn’t lie to her. When the job called for half-truths and misdirection, he’d done it; but not anymore, not with her cooperation, not with her in his house. “No,” he said quietly. “That’s not what I want.”
“That’s why you should do it. You want to.”
“What about after?” he said as he shoved his keys into his pocket.
“Matt, I’m not thinking more than about thirty seconds ahead right now.”
“One of us should.”
She laughed, and again the sound was somewhere between playful and mocking. “Very mature of you,” she said. “Very protective. But you’re thinking too far ahead. Up until 2:30 a.m. Sunday morning we were the textbook example of sudden, explosive sexual chemistry. If we get very proper and formal with each other, it’s going to look odd. To make this thing work we need to act like we can’t get enough of each other, like the sex just gets better and better every time we do it, and we’re doing it every chance we get.”
In other words, like they were a new couple falling madly, totally, completely in love.
Her words spawned a whole medley of full-color, tantalizing images in his brain—sex in her bed, in the office, in the storeroom, all the time in the world to do everything he imagined and come up with a dozen new ideas—and the ache under his ribs intensified. His pulse sped up, sending adrenaline into his veins. With the sharpened senses came awareness. He felt vulnerable. Eve’s crackling, live-wire energy exposed bruised places he’d kept hidden. He felt, and sex would only make it worse.
His father’s shadowbox of medals and ribbons caught his eye, triggering his father’s voice in his memory. Emotions create weakness. Weakness puts you and your team at risk. “So we keep acting.” As he spoke he brushed past her, down the hallway and into his bedroom.