Surrender Your Heart (12 page)

“His record was
clean,” I say. “I don’t blame you. We just have to be more careful in the
future. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.”

I remember the
file on Penelope which was perfectly clean as well, no parking ticket, no
missed payment ever even when funds were tight. Appearances can be deceiving,
but not in her case. She is everything she promised to be.

After everyone
is up to date, Nick and I talk to the staff about new and improved screenings.

Will this help
to keep out the next Hanks? God, I sure hope so.

I don’t realize
how late it is until Nick says, “It looks like everyone’s on the same page now.
I’m heading home if that’s okay. Call me if you need me. I’ll let you know as
soon as there’s word on Laydon.”

I have no idea
where the day went. “Thanks. You can go.”

I walk him out,
and he asks about Colette’s visit. “She’s not going to be any trouble, is she?
I think right now we have all we can handle and more.”

“She came to
warn me,” I reveal. “God, how could I be so stupid? Maybe I should listen  more
often to people who warn me.”

Nick has read
between the lines. “You couldn’t know about Hanks. None of us really did. We
just got lucky.”

“Yeah, lucky. He
would have sold her to Laydon for a few hundred.” My stomach churns at the
thought.

“You got there
in time, and Ms. Elliot is safe,” he reminds me. “Will you be taking into
consideration what Grady told you.”

I sigh. “You
know I can’t.” Fortunately, he doesn’t try to change my mind.

“I guess you’re
right. Good night, Carter.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Twelve

We replace the
bandages with band-aids, and we settle in for a quiet evening with a light
meal, rice, fruit, a glass of wine much unlike yesterday that almost turned
into a drunken binge. We turn in early, but it’s not to sleep, not yet.

Penelope regards
me curiously. “Why am I here?” she asks.

“Oh, there I
thought the heavy questions could wait until everything is back to normal.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yes, I know,
but I told you before. I wanted you. This is why you’re here.”

In the big
scheme of things, this is still relevant to the truth, even more so when I did
such a shitty job keeping her safe.

Penelope shakes
her head, laughing. “No one does that. It’s not exactly easy to figure you out,
but you’re not a bad person. Believe me, after my run-in with the real bad
guys, nothing you did can compare, and that’s a good thing. I want to
understand.”

“Is that so hard
to believe?” I’m so relieved to be finally here, alone with her, no one
interfering for the moment. It’s getting me in a mood. “That someone would look
at you and simply couldn’t resist?”

She blushes.

“Besides, I
think we’ve already established I was right. I love to touch you. I love the
way you feel, and I knew it would be that way. I knew you’d feel the same.”

“You’re not even
having second thoughts. You’re that sure.” Penelope laughs again, a bit
self-conscious, her cheeks a healthy pink.

“I’d like to
touch you right now,” I murmur, scooting closer to her. “Would that be okay?
I’ll be careful.”

It might be
delicate at this moment, only a day after two criminals tried to steal her away
from me, when she’s still bruised, but maybe a distraction will be welcome. I
know how to touch her. She knows it too, her eyes darkening at the suggestion.
I kiss her lips, very softly, placing my hand on her thigh above the band-aid.
Her breath catches in her throat as my hand wanders upwards.

“Are you still
having doubts about why I chose you? Let me remind you.”

Her eyes never
leave mine, a small gasp escaping her when my fingers brush over the fabric of
her panties, back and forth, lightly, then slip underneath. She moves her hips
forward, into my touch, and I’m pleased, but not surprised to feel warm wetness
coating my fingertips.

“You are
beautiful. You are everything I want. Let me show you.”

“You are…very
convincing.”

Penelope leans
back into the pillow, opening her legs further to me, and I follow the silent
invitation, stroking her gently until her breathing becomes faster, she closes
her eyes, arches her back, closer to the inevitable climax.

“I like this,”
she confesses. I reach up with one hand to touch her cheek, the skin warm under
my touch. “This is all weird, but…I won’t lie to you. I want it.”

“There’s nothing
wrong with that.”

I take my time
with her. After all, it’s not like the world as we know it could crumble around
us at any moment. For a few hours, I want to forget about Colette’s dire
prophecies, and with Penelope squirming under my touch, it’s a lot easier. It’s
an amazing, heady mix, lust, affection, power. She takes my fingers easily, her
body warm and ready.

“I want you to
have everything you want.” I press deeper into her, my thumb brushing over her
clit, and I feel her tighten around my fingers in answer. “Do you want to
come?” She moans, a little dirty talk pushing her closer to the brink. “You’re
almost there. I can feel it,” I say, keeping up the rhythm. “You’re so hot.
When I saw you the first time, I knew you’d be perfect. You knew it too, that I
could make you feel this way, didn’t you?” She stiffens, a series of helpless
sounds spilling over her lips as she gives in, gives herself into my hands
completely.

Only when her
body stills, her breathing still coming in gasps, I carefully withdraw my
fingers. Penelope opens her eyes, gazing up at me with a warm sated smile. The
world has righted itself once more.

* * * *

I know Penelope
wants to reciprocate, but I tell her not tonight. I want tonight to be all
about her, do whatever possible to chase away the memory of last night’s events
and what they could have led to. I want her to know her home is here with me,
and there’s one particular way of conveying the message that always seems to
work best for us. After taking a quick shower and brushing teeth, we retreat to
my bedroom once more. There’s no need for sleepwear this time.

To be honest, I
didn’t plan on bringing her to my office or my bedroom so soon, but everything
happened quicker than planned, even the unexpected, bad surprises. As surprises
go, this is a beautiful one, Penelope, gloriously naked, stretched out in the
center of the king size bed. I stand there for a moment, just watching her, and
she giggles, a bit nervous.

“Could you come
over here? I feel weird.”

“You shouldn’t.
You’re amazing.”

“I’m glad you
think so. Does that mean I’m allowed to leave the house unattended?”

I climb onto the
bed with her, gently part her thighs to kneel between them. “Let’s not get
ahead of ourselves, shall we?” I believe her question was only half-serious,
now that she has learned not everyone out there is friendly. I haven’t told her
about Hanks being arrested, or that Laydon is a possible next candidate.
Another time. For now, I want her attention elsewhere.

“You’re so
funny.”

“Don’t I know
it.”

A light touch
reveals that talking is not all she had on her mind either, and I lean forward
to taste her, smiling at her whispered, “Oh God.”

In the
beginning, I thought restraints would serve her well, to really let go, abandon
all responsibility and residual guilt for wanting what I could offer—but this
is even better.

Penelope knows
where she belongs—here, with me. Sweet surrender. It’s not a metaphor. One
year, we might be kidding ourselves. With something this good, it’s hard not to
lose track of the specifics. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let her go. At
least, at this moment, she doesn’t want me to, judging from her soft whimpers,
her body moving underneath me, shuddering, still wanting more—and she gets it
all.

When she’s
asleep in my arms, I indulge us for a few minutes before I put on a robe and
steal away to my office. There are messages from one of the women I hired to
play one of the friends who’d break the news about Penelope to the book club.
It’s not good.

They won’t
let go
, she writes.
I had to lay low for a while
.
I stare at the screen, thinking that Penelope’s impeccable record and work
ethics present a problem. We were careful, with the people we placed and the
job they did.

Still, no one
seems to believe that she’d simply take a few months off, and meanwhile, Hanks
is trying to cut a deal. Damn it. I don’t want to go, but it looks like I can’t
avoid it. I have to talk to the people on the ground, so to speak—and maybe
I’ll have to talk to the local police about the shooting, give them a story
that will not make them go so easy on Hanks while still getting to Laydon.

Taking over
Wellington
’s business was child’s play in
comparison, though I see he’s still dissing me in the press. I’ll have to issue
a statement on that too. It feels like too much reality all of a sudden. Oh
well. I’ll take care of it, as usual.

* * * *

The day is
already dawning when I crawl into bed, for a few more minutes. Penelope is
still asleep. I am tempted. What if I took her along? I’ll have security
personnel with me at all times, nothing would happen to her. I know it’s
impossible, but I indulge the fantasy for a little while, thinking we could go
somewhere else,
Europe
maybe…We
can’t. I have to take care of business, and Nick will have to hold the fort.

When Penelope
starts to stir, I call Marlene and ask her to prepare a room service breakfast,
comfort style. What I have to tell Penelope is not so comforting.

She hides
halfway under the covers, obviously a bit mortified when Marlene rolls in
breakfast. Even I’m surprised how she managed to get waffles ready this quickly,
but I’m grateful. I’ll have to sweeten up the news every which way that I can.

“What time is
it?” Penelope asks when we’re alone again.

“Early.” I get
out of bed, put on the robe again until I realize she doesn’t have any clothes
in this room. I open the wardrobe and hand her another robe. “I thought we
could still have breakfast together. I need to leave for a few days, take care
of a few things—this time for real.”

She looks
crestfallen, and, I realize, scared. “Nick and Marlene won’t let you out of their
sight, and we’ve taken measures to increase security. I’m sorry, but I can’t
postpone it.”

“What am I going
to do in the meantime?”

“Try to relax.
Don’t talk to strangers.” She walks into my embrace, and I hold on tight, the
moment too raw, too emotional. “I can’t stay too long anyway. We heard that
Hanks, the wannabe gardener, has been arrested, and he might try to cause me
trouble. Not with so much success as I haven’t heard from the local police yet,
but I promise, I’ll be back soon to deal with it.”

“I feel bad,”
she confesses. “You deal with this all by yourself. Is there really no way I
can help you?”

“You do help.
Coming home to you is the best I ever had in my life.”

Penelope ponders
my words as she sits down to eat. I didn’t expect an answer, so her next words
startle me.

“What happens
after that, when you come back? You said you’d take a vacation too, but that
time has gone now, so…You’ll be here for a few days at a time and then go back
to work, and I stay here?”

I hold her gaze
until she blushes. “You know the rules.”

“I thought you
trust me, after everything.”

“I do more than
trust you.” I hope she gets the meaning, because with all this trouble brewing,
I’m not ready to say the words. Yet—or ever. I’m sure she knows the truth
anyway. “I want all of you—we both need that time.”

“As long as you
lock me in, you’ll never have all of me,” she says, sounding sad about her
conclusion. It is a sad one indeed. The truth doesn’t always set you free, does
it?

“Give me a
little more time. I’ll help you with a way to resume your studies, and find a
job. Until then, I’m going to be selfish. I want you all to myself. I believe
you have enjoyed yourself. Haven’t you?”

She doesn’t
answer, aware that this is an argument she can’t win at the moment.

“Be safe,” I whisper.
“I have lots of plans for you when I come back.”

Penelope tries
to suppress the smile, but she fails. All those plans will come to pass soon.

* * * *

Coming back to
headquarters and the life before her is frustrating and headache inducing. No
wonder my carefully planted person had to go into hiding. Actually it looks
like the police are looking for her. She should be in the South of France by
now, so there’s no reason to worry.

A weary-looking
detective keeps in touch with the parents. There’s not a lot they can do,
looking for a woman who is of age and has called in to tell them she’s
okay…There are more pressing cases, but at some point, there might be a ping on
the radar, an international law enforcement effort. I check in with Nick, but
there’s nothing new, regarding Hanks or Penelope.

I steal away to
have lunch by myself in a nearby bistro, needing to escape the phone and
computer for a moment. On my way back, I’m passing by a sheet of paper taped to
a store window, flinching at the picture.

Help find
Penny!
The bold lettering says.

Why can’t they
just let it be? They are likely to cause the attention of the wrong people,
which would leave me and Nick with another mess to clean up. The Café Vienna is
on the way too, but I don’t go in. There’s work to do. The sooner I get it
done, the sooner I can go back to what now feels more like home than my condo
in the city. I can’t wait.