Back In The Bedroom (The Wrong Bed #29)(26)

“Was.” Cheri winced. “He didn’t tell you.”

“No. But it explains a lot. Why did he get out of it?”

Cheri took a moment to answer. “Let’s just say his last mission nearly killed him. Literally. It made him wary. And unhappy, I think. In any case, it took him a long time to recover and in some ways he’s still recovering.” She put her hand on Tessa’s wrist. “You’ll be patient with him, won’t you Tessa? Patient, and kind, and compassionate?”

“I’m sorry for what he went through, but I think you have the wrong idea—”

“You like him,” Cheri said. “You care about him. I can see that.”

“I barely know him.” And because she didn’t want to talk about it anymore, she busied herself with sharpening a pencil.

Cheri took the hint and left her alone. Tessa stared at the electric pencil sharpener, her mind far from the pencil and stuck on Reilly.

He’d been in the CIA. He’d been hurt.

He’d become wary because of it.

He needed patience. Kindness and compassion.

She had those things, but she wasn’t sure Cheri knew what she was asking. Reilly didn’t want anything from her but work.

A few moments later, Cheri handed her a stack of work and gave her a little smile. “Are you going to offer me a doughnut or are you just going to torture me with the scent of them all morning?”

Tessa set them out. She took the stack of work and a glazed doughnut and went to her desk to dig in. After a while, Cheri popped her head into the room and said she was going out to run some errands.

Alone, Tessa went into the small photocopy-fax room and started making a stack of copies she needed for one of Reilly’s clients. She got into a rhythm of lifting the top of the machine, replacing the sheet she needed copied, placing it back into the file. The sound of the copier was loud and hypnotic, so that when someone stepped up right behind her suddenly, she let out a little scream and jerked. Papers went flying as she whirled around, flattening herself back against the machine.

“Hey. Hey, it’s just me.” Reilly. He stood there, all in black, of course. Black athletic shoes, black running shorts, black T-shirt, which was plastered to him. The man sure was in some kind of amazing shape. She registered this in a distant way because he’d nearly given her heart failure and she couldn’t talk. He definitely looked the secret agent part, she’d give him that. Tall, edgy, dangerous….

“Tess?”

Get it together, she told herself, get it together before you annoy the hell out of him for acting like a baby. “I’m sorry. I’m fine.” She bent for the papers.

“Are you sure?” He hunkered down beside her and started helping her.

“No, I’ve got it.” She shoved the stack all back into the file, figuring she’d fix it when she was alone and could breathe again. “I’m just fine. Really.”

“All right.” He eyed her carefully. “I’m going to shower in the bathroom in my office.” He paused. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I just thought I was alone, that’s all. Cheri said you were working out.” He looked good all hot and sweaty and bothered. Extremely superhero-like.

Had she ever really seen a different side of him, a soft and gentle side, even for a moment? No. She had to have imagined that, because this man with his see-through eyes and rock-hard body and low, rough voice didn’t have a soft and gentle side—

He reached out, dispersing her thoughts like the wind. His hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “It’s okay, you know, it’s just delayed shock.” Standing, he pulled her up. “I…know what you’re going through.”

Oh, damn. He knew. He knew because something terrible had happened to him on his last mission, something much more terrible than being held up in Eddie’s house. He was big and tough and strong, and yet he understood, and wanted her to know that.

He needs kindness and compassion and patience, Cheri had told her and yet here he was offering it to her. She stared down at the papers, which suddenly went a little blurry, because here was that flash of beta guy again and it confused her.

With a sigh, he took the stack and set it all on the copier. He put his hands on her again, her hips this time.

“I’m really fine,” she whispered, wanting it to be so. Wanting it to be so quite badly.

“Yes.”

She shifted a little closer, needing the contact, needing…so much.

“Don’t.” His voice was low, gruff, and he tried to hold her off. “I’m all sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

“Tess.” But he pulled her just a little closer, waiting until she tipped her head up to his.

“You know what?” she whispered. “I think I lied. I don’t think I’m so fine. It…” She closed her eyes and saw the gray room. Saw Reilly standing in Eddie’s kitchen with a gun. “It keeps coming back.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked her over, his jaw going all tight and bunched and sexy when he took in the bruises on her throat. “I’m really sorry.”

Something deep within her curled, warmed. Ached. “Maybe you should go back to snarling at me.”

“I don’t snarl at you,” he said, grimacing. “I never mean to, anyway. Not at you.”