Page 52 of Covert Mission
“Want some?”
She practically skitters out of the chair. “No. That’s all yours.”
She breathes at me like she’s been jogging. But it’s the ghosts in her eyes that have me reaching for her.
“Whoa now. You look like I just shot up heroin. Don’t worry, I’m not getting drunk. I won’t be compromised. You’re safe.”
Every bit of color drains away from her cheeks as she flicks her gaze at the floor. The tension builds in her shoulders. It works its way down her arms until she’s clutching her fingers together.
I place the bottle on the table, toss the cork beside it, and grab her chair. Her eyes go wide when I drag her toward me. I don’t stop until she’s close, sitting with her knees between my knees. As soon as I have her where I want her, I tip her chin up.
“Talk.”
She worries at her bottom lip, twists her finger in her hair, and stares at me for a beat. Her eyes are cool now, shuttered, and I know she’s locking me out.
“Thank you for dinner. I should get ready for bed.”
“Oh no. You don’t get to hide from me.”
She makes a little huffing sound. “Please. You forced me to eat, to stay in your place, but you should stop here. Don’t try to force me to talk about something I don’t want to talk about. This is my issue, and it should stay that way.”
When I catch her face in my both palms, her breath speeds and she grabs my wrists. Her fingers are trembling.
Fucking hell. Is she scared?
“Camile, what’s going on?”
“It’s… I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“The tequila?”
She won’t meet my eyes.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
I don’t want to let go of her. I know she’ll retreat.
“Are you scared of me?”
Eyes closed tight, she breathes in a slow breath. On the equally long exhale, she says, “I have some baggage.”
“I’ll be right back.” After I brush my teeth and rinse with the bottled water I store in the bathroom, I stride back to the table. She’s miraculously right where I left her, looking small and shell-shocked. Not at all like the vibrant, headstrong woman who sat down at the table with me.
I reach for her hands. “Now. As I was saying…”
She squeaks when I drag her into my lap, but she doesn’t put up much of a fight. I settle her against my chest, getting her comfortable.
“Look at the bottle.”
“What about it?”
“Can you see how much is gone?”
A shiver runs down her body. “Yeah.”
“I took a taste. Do you know how much alcohol it takes to affect a man my size?”
“I’m not sure.”