Page 47 of Allie's Shelter

Everything, by his new definition, meant Allie.

Roberts being alive explained how his private haven had been compromised. The client had managed to clone his phone, probably at the first meeting. It was no stretch to assume he’d cloned Eva’s phone too and done the legwork from there. The bastard was a whole lot sneakier than most men sporting custom made suits and hand sewn Italian shoes.

But Roberts wasn’t the only one at fault. Ross couldn’t ignore the spark of revenge he’d felt at the thought of catching Allie doing something wrong. It had been small and petty and he should tell her everything—right now—but he hesitated to ruin this moment. He didn’t want to risk her anger and hate. Couldn’t bear the idea of risking her safety should she refuse his assistance and protection. He didn’t want to contemplate losing her forever.

“I hate this,” she said, backing away from him.

His stomach rolled, but he kept his tone neutral and his hands to himself. “Understandable.”

“No.” She shook her head, flicking a hand between the two of them. “Not the case stuff. This. The you and me part of this. I hate that my instinct is to turn to you for comfort.”

“I’m that awful?” She didn’t used to think so, but this was Allie the woman, not the girl who’d been his best friend. He shoved his hands in his pockets, not trusting his reactions. Shake her or kiss her were fighting for priority on his to-do list.

“No.” She glared at him. “Of course not.”

Watching her teeth catch her full lower lip, he nearly groaned from wanting her. “What then?”

“Honestly?”

Please! He didn’t say it. Instead, he waited for her to spit out whatever was on her mind.

“You have a job to do and I’m getting in the way.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that keeping you safe is my job? We need you, and likely your testimony, in order to wrap this case up and capture Roberts.” Among other things.

“I get all that. But it’s not your job to do all the emotional soothing and make me feel better.”

“Cut yourself some slack. This is a tough situation, Allie.”

“Exactly! I need to get tough. I can’t keep leaning on you like an emotional crutch because I’m scared.”

Leaning on him sounded more than fair, but he didn’t say it. His instinct to protect her was too revealing and the resulting vulnerability went against all his years of training.

Besides, he wanted to make her feel other things. Like the heat of his mouth against her throat. Wanted her to feel his hands on her soft breasts while he teased her nipples to tight, eager peaks. He wanted her to shiver as his breath caressed her skin while he joined his body to hers in a sensual rhythm that would drive them both over the edge.

“You really wrote to me, didn’t you?”

“Pardon?” The quick changeup had him reeling. He pulled himself out of his fantasy and retreated to the relative safety of the couch. If he wasn’t careful, he’d need a throw pillow to hide his desire for her. Too bad he’d never bothered to buy anything so useful for this house.

“From basic training,” she clarified. “You did write me letters.”

No sense denying it now after his outburst this morning. Ross scrubbed at his face. “Every chance I got.” He caught the look of wonder on her face. “You finally believe me?”

“Yes.” His mood brightened when she smiled. Good grief, he was a sap, pining for his high school sweetheart this way. Still, he wanted to clear the air and he felt his mouth tilt, smiling back at her.

“I’ve spent a lot of time hurting, thinking you abandoned me. Well, abandoned us is more accurate,” she said.

Something about the way she phrased it was a balm to the open wound that never quite healed when he’d thought she’d left him behind without even a word of goodbye. “You wrote to me too?”

She came around and perched on the coffee table, her knees almost touching his. “Those letters are probably in a box somewhere in Aunt Ruth’s attic. I could never quite bring myself to throw them out.”

“I’d love to read them sometime.” A blush stained her cheeks, making the scrape look worse for a moment. He reached out, skimming a fingertip along her jaw, then pulled back before he yanked her into his lap. “I came home on leave, but you were gone.”

“That must have been college move in and orientation. It was required.”

“I’m sure.” He had a few requirements he wanted to impose, but this truce felt too fragile.

“What are we doing here, Ross?”