Hold on to Me (19 page)

“I haven’t lost yet. It’s your turn. Roll the damn dice.”

“This is Ford in the security center.” Simone’s hand froze over the board. They both looked up at the sound of the voice coming from somewhere in the ceiling. “We’ve had a security breach on the property. Quickly make your way to the safe room.”

The color drained from Simone’s face. She jerked to her feet, sending the Monopoly board and pieces flying. Mitch shot up and grasped her arm at the biceps. “Come on. Hustle.”

They jogged into the library. Mitch felt all over the center shelf molding and couldn’t find the release. “Dammit.”

“Bottom of the third shelf.” Simone’s panicked voice drifted to his ears. “Hurry.”

His fingers slid over the button, and he pushed it. The shelving unit angled out with a hiss. Grasping Simone’s hand, he tugged her in after him.

He let go of her hand and pulled on the metal bar, then turned the handle, locking them in. One look at the monitor showed Ford wasn’t making shit up. Someone was on the grass on the east side of the property, heading for the house. Someone he didn’t recognize.

“Oh God.” Simone shuffled backward, and Mitch looked her way just as she hit the cold cement wall. Her eyes slid closed, her hands landed against the cement at her sides. What little color was left in her features was draining away quickly. “I told you to leave. I told you you were better off without me.”

She was panicking again. Like she’d done in Ryan’s office. He crossed to her, cradled her face in his hands, and slid his fingers into her hair, tipping her face up to his. “Look at me, Simone.”

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes, but he only held her tighter. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Fear swirled in her chocolate irises when she finally did. The same fear he’d seen the night his house had been shot up. The same fear he’d noticed the night she’d come back from DC, but which he’d ignored because he’d been too hurt to do anything but focus on his own misery.

“I told you,” she whispered. “I
told
you not to get involved with me.”

His pulse, which was already fast, took off, and pinpricks of heat raced down his spine. Because this fear wasn’t for her—it was for him.

Holy shit, she still cares
.

“No one’s getting in here.” His voice was thick. His hands damp. Dammit, why hadn’t he figured this out before?

Because you were too pissed to do anything but mope
.

But he wasn’t now. Now he was thinking clearly. And knowing she’d called their relationship quits because she was worried about him changed everything. “No one’s getting to us. Nod your head so I know you hear me.”

She closed her eyes again, but he held her firmly. “Simone, focus. No one’s getting in here. Nod for me.”

Slowly, she did, and a lone tear escaped from beneath her lashes, then slid down her cheek.

All those walls he’d erected to protect himself came crumbling down. He let go of her with one hand, slid the other to the back of her head, and pulled her in close, wrapping himself around her. Her head rested against this chest, just under his chin. Her arms closed around his waist. The beat of her heart pounded against his, reminding him of every moment he’d held her like this in his bed, in her bed, anywhere he could get her.

”You’re okay,” he whispered. “We’re both okay. Nothing’s going to happen.”

She sniffled, and he felt the wetness of her tears soaking into his shirt. “I hate this. I hate being this weak, helpless female. This isn’t me.”

But it was her. This vulnerable side he hadn’t known existed was as much a part of her as was the strong, confident lawyer. “You’re not weak.”

“I feel like it.” She let go of his waist with one arm and swiped at her cheek. “I’m on the verge of a breakdown when I should be running.”

He eased back, slid his hands to her face again. “No more running. If you do, they’ll just follow you wherever you go.”

He saw the defeat in her features. “Mitch—”

“No. We’re in this together now, and I’m not letting you give up your life again for these people. They’re just trying to scare you. We will figure it out and find a way to beat them. Do you hear me, Simone? This isn’t the end. It’s not even close.”

Her eyes held his, damp, worried, filled with so many emotions, he felt every one in his very soul.

She did care about him. He saw it in her features, felt it in the way she held him tight, and knew it in his heart. Even in the midst of all this chaos and uncertainty, hope bloomed in his chest. A hope that he could win her back, that they could fix everything that was broken between them, that maybe they could somehow—in some insane way—have that minivan future he’d thought was gone for good.

Heat encircled him, and his gaze flicked to her lips, held. Her pulse sped up beneath his fingers, her breasts rose and fell with her shallow breaths, and the need to kiss her, to taste her, to make her his again, overpowered every sense.

A click echoed in the room, stopping him from doing just that.

“All clear,” Ford said through a speaker somewhere near the monitors. “The situation’s under control. You can both come out now.”

Mitch didn’t move, and neither did Simone. They just continued to stare at each other. And in the thick, sultry air, one thing became crystal clear.

No matter what had happened, no matter how far they’d strayed from where they’d once been, she still wanted him, still needed him, still craved him with the same soul-deep intensity that he craved her. The hope he’d felt before exploded inside, giving him the strength and purpose he’d been missing. Because that meant he only had one thing left to do.

Before he confessed his secret, he had to convince her she was still his.

A
crazed Kendrick fan.

That was how Ford had identified the man who’d stumbled onto the property from the beach. According to Ford, the guy had seen a car pull through the gate the night before and had heard Kendrick had a house here, and had put two and two together, hoping to find the rock star at his retreat home.

Instead, he’d found the police for trespassing.

Wrapped in a plush white towel fresh from a shower, Simone stood in front of the mirror and swiped the steam from the glass with a hand towel. Her eyes still looked tired this morning, and she wanted to blame another restless night on what had happened yesterday, but she couldn’t. While yes, all that did weigh heavy on her mind, and she was happy it had turned out to be nothing, the truth about her insomnia had to do with only one thing. One man. One aggravatingly, sexy, incredible man she wanted with every inch of her being.

An image of Mitch in his room, stepping from the shower, filled her mind. His skin golden from hours outdoors beaded with water, his hair damp, the muscles in his arms flexing as he wrapped a towel just like hers low around his lean, sexy hips. The breadth of his muscular chest, the cut of his strong, carved stomach, and that thin line of dark hair that started at his belly button and stretched downward, like an arrow pointing toward what she wanted most.

A low, pulsing ache kick-started in her breasts, spread to her belly, then radiated all through her hips. Breathing deep, she braced her hands on the cool granite and dropped her head.

Coming here with him had been a bad idea, just like she knew it would be. She’d barely been able to be around him last night after the way she’d leaned on him in that safe room, and he’d obviously been able to sense her anxiety. Every minute they spent together made it harder to resist reaching for him. And it wasn’t just about sex—which with him had always been mind-bendingly incredible. No, when he pulled that protective knight-in-shining-armor stuff like he’d done yesterday, she lost all ability to think rationally. Even after everything they’d done to each other, her treacherous heart and body still wanted him, still needed him. And if she didn’t do something to counteract that quick, her teetering mind was going to give in and ruin everything.

She lifted her gaze and stared at her reflection, already growing foggy again as steam continued to roll through the room. Okay, so she’d admitted that. Now she just needed to toughen up. She wasn’t someone who needed saving. In her life,
she
was the one who found the solution and made it work. Yes, she’d been thrown off-kilter this whole last week, but she was done being the victim. She was done leaning on Mitch in a way that would just get him in more trouble. All she had to do was remember why she’d broken things off with him in the first place. And get through the next few days without jumping his bones.

A groan echoed through her body at that thought, and, disgusted with herself, she turned out of the bathroom, picked up the small suitcase Kate had packed for her, and dropped it on the bed. Deciding a turtleneck was her safest choice—
thank you, Kate, for packing for cold weather
—she grabbed it, a fresh pair of jeans and a thick sweatshirt. Maybe if she wrapped herself in enough fabric, she could protect herself from his heady looks and casual touches.

Yeah, right
.

She dried her hair, slapped on lip balm and a thin layer of mascara, and figured that was good. She wasn’t getting gussied up for him. As it was, if she hadn’t already agreed to be cordial to him, she’d barricade herself in her room and not come out until it was time to leave.

Still not a bad option
…

She shook her head and frowned. He’d only hunt her down if she tried that, and the last thing she needed was him here in this cozy room with her and that giant bed. Pushing the thought—and the fantasy—aside, she headed for the hall.

No sound echoed from the kitchen when she reached the stairs. No scents of breakfast cooking either. Which was a good thing, she figured, because if she’d beat him to the kitchen, at least cooking would give her something to do with her hands so she wouldn’t be tempted to grab him.

Surprise drew her feet to a halt though when she reached the great room. Mitch was already up, sitting on the couch, leaning over and tying his boots. He was wearing jeans and a thick blue-checked flannel shirt. And the same black-knit skullcap he’d worn when they’d driven up here.

He must have sensed her, because his head came up, and she saw then that the tips of his curly hair peeking out from beneath the cap were wet. The image of him stepping from the shower filled her mind again and sent heat careening through her veins to condense between her legs.

A slow smile spread across his scruffy face, crinkling the skin around his green eyes in a way that made them sparkle. “Good morning.”

She didn’t like that heated look in his eyes, the
I’ve been waiting for you
look. And she liked the flutters in her stomach because of that look even less. “G-good morning.”

She pulled her gaze from his and moved around the island, heading for the coffeepot.
Please let there be coffee
. That, at least, would go one step further in settling her raging hormones.

Mitch went back to tying his dusty hiking boots. “I’m glad you’re already wearing something warm. Saves me from telling you to go change.”

She reached for a mug from the cabinet. “Why? Are you expecting the heat to go out or something?”

He pushed to his feet. “We’re getting out of here.”

Her cup clattered against the counter, and she whirled on him quickly. “Did you hear from Ryan?”

“No.” He rested his hands on his lean hips. “Sorry. I didn’t mean like that. I meant…we’re getting out of here for the day. I can only be cooped up so long before I go stir-crazy.”

Simone glanced around the living area. “It’s only been a day.”

Mitch scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I need some exercise, so unless you can think of something sweaty and physical we can do right here in the house together…”

His unfinished words lingered in the air, and Simone didn’t miss the innuendo. Neither did her body, which felt like someone had just fired up her internal burners and switched them to SMOLDER.

She cleared her throat and turned back to the coffeepot. “I can’t think of a single thing.”

His sexy chuckle drifted across the room, igniting a tingle deep in her core, one that messed with every inch of her resolve. “You’re quick, Counselor. I bet if I give you some time, you could come up with something.”

Her pulse shot up, and a memory of the last time they’d been together, when he’d done that crazy thing with his tongue that had made her see stars, ricocheted through her mind. Heat erupted all through her body, and a thin layer of perspiration dotted her spine. She wanted that. Needed it. But she couldn’t have it. “Mitch—”

His boot steps echoed across the kitchen floor, and she tensed as he drew close, afraid if he touched her right now, she’d give in. The warmth of his body permeated the air around her, and his fresh, masculine scent drifted to her nose, causing that heat to turn into a full-blown blaze. Her fingers shook against the mug in her hand. No, if he touched her right now, she
knew
she’d give in.

But the touch never came. Instead, a clatter echoed at her feet, and, surprised, she looked down to see another pair of leather hiking boots lying against the hardwood floor.