Master No (Masters and Mercenaries, #9)(26)

He stepped closer to her, his eyes on her face. Those blue orbs seemed to hold her so she couldn’t look away from him. “You’re stunningly beautiful, but you don’t seem to know it.”

“I definitely don’t.” She wasn’t the beauty in the family. Hope was. Hope cared about things like makeup and hair. Faith’s fingernails were cut to the nub and unpainted.

T’s hand came out, brushing back a stray lock of hair. When his fingertips grazed her skin, she fought not to shiver. “You’re smart and kind and surprise, you’re also submissive when it comes to sex. You, Doc, are pretty much exactly what I would ask for if I was putting together the perfect female. So I’m not sure I trust that you’re real.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? “You’re…incredibly attractive.”

His lips curled up. “Not perfect for you though. Let’s see if I can find my flaws. I’m not well educated. I work a job that most would consider dangerous. You prefer your danger to come in the form of germs and bacteria. And I’m ex-military and mean. That’s strike three, Doc. Am I out?”

He was close. Really close. He hadn’t been this close since that moment in the alley outside Neiman Marcus. Of course, they’d also been standing over a dead body, and there wasn’t one of those here now. Just her and Master T. Standing really close together so that she could smell the sandalwood of his aftershave again.

All it would take would be to tilt her head up slightly and he could plant those lips on hers. Hadn’t she been dreaming about it for weeks? She’d wanted nothing more but to know what it felt like to be in this man’s arms. From the moment she’d turned on her computer and seen him on her screen, with his gorgeous face and quick mind, she’d dreamed about this moment.

“What do you want me to call you? Uhm, besides Master T. In the vanilla world, I mean. Should I call you Tim?” It came out all breathy when she’d meant it to be an intellectual question, not a “hey, I need something personal to call you in bed when you’re taking me roughly” sort of question.

“Call me Ten, Faith.”

“Ten? Like the number?”

“As in Tennessee. It’s the nickname I grew up with. And yes, that’s like the state.” He took a step back, his jaw tightening as though he didn’t like where the conversation was heading.

“It’s an unusual nickname.” She needed to know more. Now that she was here with him, she could see that they’d both kept their conversations to this point light and flirty. She knew he was a Cowboys fan. He knew she’d gone to the University of Texas at Austin and managed to never actually attend a football game. They’d talked about how they’d gotten into the lifestyle and told a few stories of some of the crazy things they’d seen.

She didn’t know if he had a family. She didn’t know where he’d gotten a name like Tennessee.

Ten’s eyes focused, as though steeling himself to get through something unpleasant. “When they found me, they weren’t sure what to name me so the social workers nicknamed me Tennessee. Later they changed it to Timothy on the registered birth certificate, but the nickname stuck. The bin they found me in was at a diner close to the state line. In a tiny town called Gayleburg. I was happy they chose to name me after the state and not the town.”

“Bin? What are you talking about?”

He leaned back, taking a long sip of beer. “I suppose you should know what you’re getting into. I don’t have a family, Faith. I was raised by the state most of my life. I was found a few hours after I was born. My mother wasn’t particularly interested in having a child so she dumped me in a trash bin outside a diner. A homeless man was dumpster diving and he found me. Got me to a hospital. I was there for a while. There’s a lot of paperwork that goes along with adopting a kid. Most parents wouldn’t touch me because of the legalities.”

“Because if the father came forward, he would have the right to his child as long as he hadn’t helped get rid of you.” She was stunned. She saw horrible things happen all the time in Africa. It was hard to understand how they could happen here where there was so much wealth. Of course the wealth wasn’t for everyone. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“You’re tenderhearted.” He reached up again and brushed away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “You shouldn’t be. You should be hard after what happened to you. You should have screamed today, Faith.”

And get more people killed? That was what haunted her about Ghana. The people who had died because she’d tried to run. It had been an instinct. Run. Hide. Live. How many people would have lived if she’d stood her ground? “He could have hurt other people.”

He was back in her space again, looming over her. She could feel the heat from his body. If she took a step forward, her chest would touch his and he would likely know exactly how hard her nipples were. What kind of woman was she that she could hear his story and still be so aroused just being close to him? She should be feeling sympathy, not heat between her legs.

“You should understand that you’re my first priority. Your safety is my job now. Until we figure out who’s coming after you and why, I’m going to make the calls and the decisions and you’re going to follow me.”

“I thought we’d already agreed to that.”