Cherished (Masters and Mercenaries #7.5)(39)

His fingers tangled in her hair and he forced her to look into his eyes. “I did no such thing. I chose to handle a situation without drawing you into my problems. I didn’t know that you were a nosy brat so I was trying to keep my sad past from you.”

She still had so many questions. “What did you see in her?”

He sighed, but she felt a shift. He wasn’t so anxious. He’d relaxed slightly. “I don’t think that’s important, but let’s get the plane in the air and we’ll talk about it. Can we agree to spend this last week together?”

“Two weeks.” She wanted all the time she could get with him. If he had two weeks of vacation, she wanted it. Anyhow, anyway she could get it.

“Tell me why.”

There was only one reason. She was so tired of lying. He knew her. He seemed to see right through her, and there was comfort in that. “Because I love you.”

“And I don’t believe in the word.”

Maybe her love was the important thing here. Maybe it was more important to love than to have it returned. It would be perfect if he could love her back, but this feeling she had made her better. Loving him made her better. “So we agree to disagree. It’s okay. Do you want to be with me?”

“So much it hurts, sweetheart.”

That was all she could ask. It would end. It was inevitable. He would say he didn’t believe in love right up until the moment he found the woman who made him. But she was pretty sure he was the love of her life. She would take these weeks and hold them close to her heart, and she would let him go at the end so he could find the woman who would set him free.

Damn it, growing up hurt like hell. “Then let’s go to a wedding. Let’s have our vacation.”

He smiled, the sight pleasing her more than she could imagine. “Let’s do it.”





Will polished off the last of the very excellent steak the attendant had served them. The rich really were different. Apparently they employed gourmet chefs who made perfectly cooked steaks at thirty thousand feet and knew how a martini should be shaken.

He set down his glass. If he had much more he wouldn’t be able to play with her, and that was definitely going to happen. He needed it. He needed to be back in control even if it was only in the bedroom.

He’d managed to talk about innocuous things throughout dinner. They’d talked about her sister and how Bridget and Amy had grown up. Private schools and nannies. There had been one in particular Bridget talked about. Nanny Christine. She’d been with her from third grade through Amy’s graduation. From what Will could tell, she’d been more of a mother to the two girls than their biological mom.

Bridget sat back. “That was so good. Did you tell them what to cook?”

He knew what she liked. He’d explained everything he wanted to Amy the night before. He wanted perfection. He wanted her smiling. Damn it. He wanted her to forgive him. “You like steak. You also like potatoes. And you like chocolate and strawberries. They’re in the bedroom, though.”

“Then we should probably head that way.” She took another long sip of the wine he’d specifically ordered for her.

She was so f*cking pretty with her raven black hair lazing past her shoulders and pointing the way right to those breasts he wanted to put his mouth on. She didn’t think he was an idiot for what had happened. She wasn’t shirking away from his trouble. Though maybe she didn’t understand that it wasn’t over.

“You know I’ll have to go to court to testify, right?” It would be a huge pain in his ass. And the trial would likely be covered in the press.

Bridget’s eyes went wide. “Do you have to meet with a lawyer?”

Shit. She was worried. “Mitch is my lawyer, but we’ll have to go meet with the DA.”

“Can I ask questions? Do you know the DA? Do you think he would let me shadow him for a week or so? I have this great idea about a DA and the witness to a murder. Well, and the defense attorney, but you will be shocked at how I work him into that threesome. Hint. The DA is bi.”

Something relaxed inside him. Bridget wouldn’t judge him. She was far too busy trying to figure out how his tragedy would aid in her research. “I don’t think the DA will find time, but I assure you Mitch will. He owes me.” He stood up, his body thrumming with anticipation. “Is our contract still valid?”

She nodded, but he couldn’t miss the way her eyes dimmed. “Yes. I told you. I want to spend the next two weeks with you.”

His gut did a weird flip at her words. Two weeks. A vacation. He’d been the one who posited the notion, but somehow he didn’t like the idea of her thinking in terms of weeks. “I believe I offered you a contract for a month.”

A long sigh came from her chest. “A month then.”

He knew he should be satisfied that she was falling in line, but something about it unsettled him. He shoved the worry aside because he needed something from her. The plane was running smoothly. There were at a cruising altitude and it was time to spend a few hours resting before they had to meet her family.

He needed to concentrate on the positive. She knew the worst stuff about him—knew his mom was in and out of jail, currently serving a nice ten-year stint for trafficking because she was always trying to push the envelope on awfulness, knew he’d been a dumbass who thought he’d found the perfect sub when all he’d found was trouble. She knew all that and she was still sitting across from him. She’d still apologized for being a righteous bitch. He didn’t blame her for that. She’d been upset and that was how Bridget communicated. He hadn’t told her that he doubted he would have actually walked away. He’d been trying to find a way out from the moment she’d told him she knew.