Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(84)
She was about to open her mouth to scold him when there was a hard knock at the door. And before either of them had a second to think, much less do the whole naked-ass scramble, the thing swung open and harsh light spilled onto the bed.
“Jesus Christ!”
Uh, that’d be Bill’s voice. Vanessa couldn’t see him because one, she was blinded by the sudden light, and two, she was too busy flying through the air as Rock grabbed her around the waist and tossed her to the far side of the bed, throwing the covers over her.
“What the hell, dude?” Rock yelled, and, yeah, Vanessa seconded that opinion.
“Sorry. Jesus. Sorry, man.” Vanessa could hear the embarrassment and was that…? Yes, that was definitely a touch of amusement in Bill’s tone. Great. Just…perfect. “I didn’t know…” Bill stopped there and even though she couldn’t see him, she was pretty sure he was fighting a grin. “Uh, supposedly there’s a guy at the front gate with this crazy story that involves you. So I was thinking…”
“I’ll be down in five,” Rock grumbled, the dissipating light an indication the door was already closing. Thank God. But before it shut all the way, Bill said one more thing, “Dude, are your boots still on?”
Chapter Twenty-two
Rock sat at the back window of BKI headquarters, concealed behind the tinted, leaded glass, and watched Boss lead the guy who was apparently claiming to have information about him through the back gate. The Knights knew discretion was the better part of valor. And as such, no one was allowed into the shop unless it was absolutely necessary. Which meant this little soirée was taking place out in the courtyard.
Already, those Knights currently in residence—all wearing leather and looking, quite intentionally, like nothing more than a gritty, and very dangerous, motorcycle club—were gathered around the unlit fire pit, arranged on the multicolored, mismatched lawn furniture. Each of the men wore an expression that fell somewhere between simple curiosity and overt suspicion.
Rock found himself falling somewhere between the two. Then his eyes landed on Vanessa in those goddamned sexy yoga pants, sitting on the green-cushioned chaise lounge chair, her gaze not on the man Boss was escorting, but instead on the ground in front of her, and he completely forgot about everything except the way she’d moved beneath him…above him, beside him. She’d been so sensual and sweet, so abandoned and giving. And, he was going to break her heart…
Because even though last night meant more to him than he’d like to admit—oh, Lordy, did it ever; he was going to remember it until his dying day—it didn’t change the fact that they lived in a dangerous and deadly world. Deadly being the operative word.
Which brought him back to the part where he was going to break her heart. Because she might’ve played the tough-as-nails-operator card last night, challenging him to give in to his desires, saying she’d understand if, in doing so, it didn’t change the way he felt about things, but the truth of the matter was she’d been deluding herself.
And the only thing he knew to do now was to nip this thing in the bud before it went any further, before the attraction and…and the intense like—for lack of a better word—she was feeling for him turned into full-blown love.
Because it could.
He’d been in love before and recognized the telltale signs. In her. In himself.
Mon dieu, he wasn’t stupid enough to think she was the only one on the brink. He could love her in a heartbeat if he let himself.
“Have a seat,” Boss instructed the mysterious man, interrupting Rock’s spinning thoughts and jerking his wandering attention back to the group in the courtyard. And though their voices were muffled by the distance and the fact that the window Rock was sitting behind was only opened the tiniest bit, he had no trouble hearing the guy’s gruff reply, “I’ll just remain standing, if you don’t mind.”
Then the man turned slightly, and something about his face sent an odd sensation skittering across the front of Rock’s cerebral cortex, halting his breath for a nanosecond.
Was it memory? Or some strange recognition of a brother-in-arms. Both?
“Suit yourself,” Boss crossed his big arms, remaining standing as well. “But I have to warn you, before you start going on with any stories about Rock, we don’t believe the charges leveled against him. And if you’re here to malign his memory—”
“You shouldn’t believe the charges leveled against him,” the man interrupted, and Rock’s heart leapt. “They were complete bullshit.”
“How do you know that?” Ozzie piped up from his position in a bright red Adirondack chair. As usual, a state-of-the-art laptop was balanced on one of the kid’s knees.
“Because I was the one to kill those men.”
***
Vanessa gasped, her eyes shooting to the rather unexceptional face of the mystery man—the guy had plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, and a profile that, while not unattractive, certainly wasn’t anything to write home about either. But unlike his appearance, the words that’d jumped out of his mouth were anything but ordinary. They made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she couldn’t help herself; she slid a surreptitious glance at the dark window she knew Rock was hiding behind.
Holy cow! He had to have nearly puked his own heart upon hearing that news. She knew she had. In fact, she had to swallow, twice, before she could breathe properly.