Inside (Bulletproof 1)
Page 12The more she complained and raised hell, the less chance Skinner would have of keeping a lid on what he was doing. She felt it was safer to say nothing. For now, anyway.
“No. I’m not even going to tell him I know.” She limped into the bathroom, tossed the bloody cloth in the sink and examined the cut on her neck in the mirror. “Whether or not you tell him is up to you, since you’re the one putting your life on the line. But I want you to understand one thing.”
When he came to the doorway, he blocked it and she instantly felt trapped. “What’s that?”
Her injury was just a nick, nothing serious. “Fischer has put me in charge of this operation, so…you’d better play nice.”
“Which means…?”
“No games. You trust me, tell me everything as soon as you possibly can, and I’ll work to protect you.”
“Why’d Fischer put you in charge?”
Using her fingers to groom her long hair into some semblance of order, she created another knot at her nape. “It’s what he does when he encounters anything too…volatile.”
“You got stuck with the assignment no one else wanted.”
“Basically.”
“I feel sorry for you.”
His gaze slid down her body. Either he’d noticed she was favoring her ankle and wondering if she was seriously hurt, or he was trying to intimidate her by reminding her that she was, after all, no match for his strength. “How friendly do we want to be?”
She rolled her eyes at the suggestiveness in his voice. Then she turned on the faucet and dampened a clean washcloth so she could remove the blood from her suit before it stained. “You nearly slit my throat. That’s hardly an aphrodisiac.”
“You broke into my motel room. There are people who might see that as…somewhat Freudian.”
“Which gives you an excuse to come on to me?”
He lifted his large hands. “Hey, I’m just playing my part, right? Isn’t that what you’d expect from a guy who’s been without a woman for fourteen years?”
She studied him in the mirror. “‘Without a woman’ doesn’t necessarily mean you haven’t been sexually active.”
“I’ve never had sex with a man, if that’s what you’re implying. But you’re not going to bed with me, so what does it matter?”
After hanging the cloth on the towel bar, she turned to face him. “If you knew that already, why’d you ask?” she said, but she could guess easily enough. He wasn’t used to being around a woman, let alone working with one, not since he’d been incarcerated, and this was his way of establishing some boundaries between them. After more than a decade of being forced to adhere to strict rules governing every interaction, he was probably uncomfortable with so much freedom. She understood the psychology, but still found the behavior fascinating.
“I asked so you could quit pretending,” he replied.
“Excuse me? Pretending what?”
“Fortunately, I don’t know exactly what you’ve done. And I don’t want to know. Since we’ll be working together, I’d rather not let that form the basis of my opinion.”
“Hiding from my history won’t change who and what I am.”
He was the one pointing that out? That said a lot about him, evoked a certain amount of respect, however grudging. “What’s the problem, Simeon? Afraid I’ll expect you to act like an honorable man?”
“Honorable?” He chuckled under his breath. “I’m not worried about that. Just making a few things clear.”
“Well, there’s no need to draw such a solid line between us.”
“Because you’re not likely to forget who and what I am?”
“Because you’re not interested in me in the first place.”
He leaned his shoulder against the door frame. “Why do you say that?”
“You don’t like authority figures.”
Reaching around her, he grabbed the cloth. Then his chest came within an inch of her br**sts as he wiped the cut on her neck. She could tell he expected her to flinch. He was trying to prove she wasn’t really willing to treat him like any other man, despite her words.
“Tell me how I’m not interested in you again?” he murmured.
“Stop testing me. I work with convicts every day. I won’t spook just because you stand close.”
Strong emotion flashed in his eyes as he took hold of her arm. “Maybe you should be more frightened than you are,” he said from between gritted teeth. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
If he wanted to hurt her, he would’ve done it when he held the knife. So why was he dead set on displaying himself in the worst possible light? To make sure she wouldn’t give him a chance to prove he could be so much better?
She wanted to ask, but didn’t. She knew she’d be stupid to tempt him into revealing how terrible he could be. Besides, she preferred to keep her distance. He made her uneasy. But not because she feared him. Just the opposite, in fact. She saw something decent and worthy in him regardless of all he’d been through, all he’d said and done—which was dangerous in its own right. Feeling empathy or anything else for a man caught in this type of no-win situation could only lead to heartbreak.
“Next time you proposition someone, you might show some tenderness,” she said, and stared at his fingers, which were still wrapped tightly around her arm.
“Some women like it rough,” he said, but he let go simply because she’d indicated she wanted him to, and that made her smile. He was what she thought he was—essentially a good man.
“You can’t always play it safe,” she responded.
“Play it safe?” he echoed.
She removed her high heels so she could walk without stressing her ankle and squeezed past him. “Someday you might actually want to feel something that goes beyond the physical.”