ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) (64 page)

I
stared at him. Not a single iota of me cared one bit about his fancy goddamn
ninja shoes. Two seconds with this guy and I was already ready to shove one of
them down his throat.

He must
have seen the look on my face, because he quickly summed up:

“Anyway,
they don’t make much sound. So that’s probably why you didn’t hear me.”

“Well,
I imagine I’ll be hearing a lot of you very soon, not to mention seeing,” I
said, moving past him. He fell into step beside me. “Your demands have been
met. I’ll be your handler for the next seven days.”

“I
thought it’d be for the best,” Nathan explained, handing me a Starbucks cup
with my name across it. “You know, we made a pretty good team back there. And
besides, it’ll look good for you—the woman who took down the Irish mafia and
convinced billionaire Nathan Hale to testify,” he added, spelling out the
headline with his free hand while using an overblown radio-style voice. “And
besides… I wasn’t really sure who else I could trust.”

I
sniffed the contents of the cup through the little opening in the lid. Whatever
it was smelled sweet. I took a tentative sip and nearly melted. Mocha
anything
was my jam. How the hell did he know?

“That’s
only if it all goes as planned,” I reminded him, quickly taking the steps down
to the lobby. “Hopefully there won’t be too much more excitement. But I gotta
ask,” I whirled to face him once I hit the bottom, “did you come up with our
cover story, too?”

Nathan
paused two steps above me, clutching his own Starbucks cup to his chest like a
shield, like it would protect him from my question, and possibly from me. He
hadn’t stopped grinning since he saw me come out of Captain Pierce’s office,
but I watched the corners of his mouth curl even more mischievously.

“No,”
he said. “Scout’s honor—I would’ve never picked a name like Candy. I think
somebody
thought he was being funny.”

I felt
my own lips betray me, pulling into a faint smile. “And the other thing? I’m
supposed to play house as your girlfriend?”

He
shrugged and took a long drink from his cup. “That might have been my idea,” he
said calmly. “Besides, you said it yourself, I don’t have a girlfriend right
now. I thought I’d treat myself.”

I
already wanted to throttle him, but when I realized he wasn’t going to
elaborate further, I simply rolled my eyes and turned away.

“Right.
Well, I’ve got to go pack for our little vacation at the Peachtree Overlook.”

“The
Peachtree Overlook, huh?” Nathan called out behind me. “Sounds like a nice little
place.”

I could
have corrected him, but I only smiled. Nathan had inflicted quite a few
surprises on me today. It was only fair that I got to inflict one on him.

CHAPTER THREE

“You
can’t
be serious.”

I
couldn’t stop smiling as Nathan and I pulled into the parking lot of the
Peachtree Overlook, which must have looked like a dump compared to the estates
he’d lived in his whole life. His mansion just outside the city wasn’t his
family home, and given that it was meant for only one person, I couldn’t begin
to imagine what the house he’d grown up in had looked like.

“This
is it,” I told him, trying to keep the demented glee out of my tone as I parked
the old sky blue Honda the department had lent me in one of the narrow spots.
The car was an auction vehicle, a prize seized from a dealer or some other
low-level criminal who couldn’t afford anything better.

It was
all part of the plan to make Nathan and I look like a couple just barely
keeping our heads above the poverty line. Those were the kinds of people nobody
saw, the ones who weren’t homeless, but who stood one small disaster away from
losing everything. Nobody wanted to talk about those people, because that meant
they’d have to acknowledge they existed and might need help. And nobody wanted
to be inconvenienced enough to actually help them. It was easier just to forget
about them and move on.

Nathan
was, quite clearly, one of
those
people. As I killed the engine and
stepped out of the car, he kept staring at the apartments with a wrinkled nose
and slack jaw. There was nothing but contempt in his eyes for the place. I
couldn’t resist making a remark.

“You
know, some people would be damn grateful to live in a place like this.”

I’d
expected him to scoff and say something about how he wasn’t one of
them
,
but instead, he only sighed and opened his door, muttering that it would have
to do.

We took
our duffel bags stuffed with only our necessities out of the trunk and lugged
them up the stairs to the second floor. Our room was 213, situated in the
perfect spot in the middle of the hall where we had a view of the stairs, the
lot, and partway around the corner from our living room window. It would make
keeping an eye on the activity outside our apartment easy enough, and I
immediately felt my nerves settle.

If you
need anything, just holler,
Captain Pierce had
said. As close together as these units were, I figured the other officers would
have no problem hearing me.

“Do you
want to do the honors?” I asked Nathan, offering him the dirty bronze key to
our new home.

He
smiled at me and plucked the key from my hand. “Sure,
Candy,
” he
answered, but his smug grin faded a moment later when we saw what lay in wait
for us inside.

Captain
Pierce had failed to mention that this unit was an efficiency. The bedroom—if
it could even be called that—was right on the other side of the living room and
separated only by an old floor screen with tattered cloth panels. The kitchen
had about six inches of counter space on either side of a Fifties-style stove
beneath a microwave stained yellow from a previous tenant’s tobacco addiction.

At
least, I hoped it was a
tobacco
addiction. Anything harder could leave a
place coated in the kind of nasty things you
definitely
didn’t want to
touch.

The
single, small bathroom set off from both the living room and bedroom looked
snug—or rather, claustrophobic—and included an all-in-one shower and tub combo
with a fixed showerhead covered in limescale buildup. The toilet, thankfully,
was clean, but it had one of those cushioned seats with little tears in it that
reminded me of the nursing home my grandmother had died in.

I ran a
hand through my shoulder-length hair and thanked God I’d recently splurged to
have it styled at a salon. There was no way I would’ve been able to do it properly
in this place. It was going to be a
long
week.

“Home
sweet home,” Nathan mumbled, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

“I
guess so,” I said, looking at the twin-sized bed just beyond the shoddy
divider. “You go on and take the bed. I’m good with the couch.”

“Oh,
that’s not fair,” Nathan answered, inspecting the floral comforter. “The couch
is in better condition!”

I
smiled and shrugged, tossing my duffel bag onto the cushions to claim it. “One
of the perks of being the girl in charge, I guess. Anyway, it puts me nearest
the door in case anything goes wrong, and I can use the window to make sure no
more of Wallace’s men come tromping up the stairs without our knowledge.”

“Fair
point,” he begrudgingly agreed, setting his own high-end luggage case on the
mattress. It groaned in protest. “Well,
Candy,
given the state of things
here, I’d say it’s either takeout or starve.”

“In
here, it’s detective,” I said, opening my bag and fishing out my fake ID and
credit cards. “Or Sandra, if you’re feeling lucky.”

“Let’s
go with that last one,” he said. “If we’re going to be spending this much time
together in such a small space, I think ‘detective’ and ‘Mr. Hale’ are going to
wear thin pretty fast. Besides, I’d like to think we can get along on a first
name basis, seeing as I already know every curve on your body.”

“Don’t push your luck. You know damn well that little
fling ended years ago and I’m not about to go jumping back into bed with you.”

“We’ve been a new couple for less than two hours!
You’re telling me you aren’t committed to this relationship?”

I
looked at him over my shoulder. There was something about the way he said it,
something about his inflection or the soft purr of his voice that made him
almost sound hurt.

“Look, Sandra, I get it. I’m not your favorite person.
I never meant to hurt you. I took you for granted… And I’m sorry.”

“There was a time when I wanted to hear you say those
words, Nathan, but I’m not that girl anymore. I’m here for one reason and one
reason only,” I replied, turning away from him.

“I’ll stop making light of the situation. This must be
uncomfortable for you, but it’s terrifying for me. I’ve barely slept in weeks.
You’re the only one I can trust right now. I just thought since we’d be living
here together for a few days, we might clear the air.”

His
words made me equal parts uneasy and flattered. I’d never seen Nathaniel Hale
as anything less than in control. In his little world, things happened the way
he wanted them to happen. I’d fallen into that circle of influence once, and it
had taken me years to break free. Now, he had no control. I was responsible for
his safety, and there were no nets strung out beneath this trapeze act. His
eyes were drilling into my own, but the look on his face was grateful, rather
than self-satisfied... It almost made him seem… Human…

I
lingered in the heat of Nathan’s stare just a little longer. Some secret part
of me was reveling in his attention. All those times we had been together, I
was so desperate for this man to look at me like this… Like someone he
respected
, instead of someone he
fucked
. Breaking away from his gaze, I
flipped my hair and stood up straight, reaching out to hand him the credit card
with
Candy Love
printed on it.

“What do you like—Chinese?”

“Seems
like the easiest choice,” he said, taking the card from my hand.

Our
fingers met for one single, glorious instant, and I felt the ripples of his
touch race all the way up my arm and into my chest, heat blooming near my
heart. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry and my stomach suddenly filled
with a thousand anxious butterflies.

What the hell is wrong with me? He’s an asshole,
remember? The man who took what he wanted and used you like some kind of call
girl?

Maybe
it was because he was starting to change. Maybe it was because he was
demonstrating concern for others and a willingness to sacrifice his comfort for
the good of the city. Maybe it was because I’d never truly expected him to
accept any responsibility for anything…

It
wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to change my mind, especially not this quickly.
Was he manipulating me? Was all of this just a ruse because he needed
protection?

I
pulled my hand away and tried to temper my expectations as he pulled the burner
phone out of his pocket and began rifling through the kitchen drawers in search
of a menu. A few moments later I was on the couch with the TV on, trying to
lose myself in some trashy ‘reality’ show while he placed his order with
whatever restaurant he’d managed to dig up.

He
covered the phone with one hand and called to me from the kitchen-cum-bedroom.
“What about you? Maybe some orange chicken?”

I
narrowed my eyes at him. “How’d you know I like orange chicken?”

He
grinned and shrugged. “Who doesn’t like orange chicken?” he said, the moved his
hand away and began speaking to the restaurant again.

“You
know, we
could
go out,” he added a moment later, presumably while he was
on hold. “I’m pretty sure the Paddies aren’t going to be hanging around some
two-bit Chinese place after what happened today. We should be safe as houses.
And it’d be a lot nicer than hanging around in here all day.”

“I’m
not up for it,” I answered, which was the sad truth. After what had happened
this afternoon, I wasn’t in the mood to put myself in a room full of completely
unpredictable people. “Besides, we’re safer here with the other officers
around. Laying low right now is not the worst idea in the world, you know.”

He shrugged. “It’s no fun, either.”

I
rolled my eyes. “We can worry about fun after you’ve testified.”

Nathan
smirked as he got back on the line. “Then it’s a date.”

I was
going to object, but he was already speaking to the restaurant again. That
hadn’t been what I’d meant, but the longer I let it settle, the less I wanted
to correct him. Sure, we had fucked, but that’s all we’d ever done. A date was
never on the table…

I
curled up against the armrest of the couch and hide my smile behind my hand. One
date when this was all over? That couldn’t hurt, could it?