Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(35)

She nodded.

“What about heights?”

“No.”

“Spiders?” He could barely say the word without cringing.

She smiled. “I hate them, but if it comes down to them or me, I’ll put up a good fight.”

He pursed his lips. “Hmm. I thought all women were afraid of spiders.”

“So you have noticed I’m a woman?” she mumbled as she glared down at her chest.

Yes. He’d definitely noticed she was a woman.

Could she really be unhappy with the size of her breasts? He supposed a lot of normal-sized women were a testament to irrationality of society. But he liked her small, firm-looking breasts. Especially when they had been barely covered by a thin lacy camisole while he was stitching her up.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he said, and ran his finger along her jaw. She looked up at him, and for a moment he got lost in her eyes.

They seemed to welcome him, urging him to come closer.

So he did.

Her breath brushed enticingly over his lips.

He was nearly home when she laughed and sagged to one side. “Damn, you’re hot.” The words were slightly slurred.

He frowned. Shit. He’d hoped she would have eaten more of her soup before the sedative took effect. It was mild to help with the pain, but on an empty stomach…

On the other hand, he couldn’t kiss her when she was out of it.

Saved from himself. All for the best. He shouldn’t even have been thinking about kissing her.

Josiah Thorne would have his hide if he caught wind of that sort of behavior from one of his senior inspectors.

“Hel-loo?” Sam giggled.

Garrett hiked his eyebrows. “How are we doing?” he asked.

She started to laugh again…then slid from her stool and landed right in his arms.

Not exactly the way he’d planned it. He’d only meant the sedative to help her have a restful night’s sleep. She needed it.

Now she was giggling like a drunken coed. He’d figured she was a lightweight. He hadn’t realized how light.

“You are…very…nice-looking,” she murmured as he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to her room. “But tough. And kind of mean.”

He placed her on the bed. “I am not mean.” He was okay with nice-looking and tough.

“Uh-huh. You don’t like me.”

“Of course I do.” He liked her plenty. Too much, in fact. She was strong and determined and self-confident. Except for that one area—her looks.

He couldn’t understand why she never saw that her asshole of a boyfriend had just been manipulating her into thinking she wasn’t attractive so she wouldn’t leave his ass.

No doubt the jerk had said lots of things to make her feel self-conscious. Nothing blatant—that would have made her see the guy for what he was. Subtle insults. Garrett had seen it before in witnesses. Intimidation by insult was a common method of control.

He wished Sam had known what the guy was up to. She should know how beautiful she was. Had no one ever told her?

“I might look like a boy. But I’m a girl.”

With that, she slid off her pants and threw them at him.

He ducked out of the way, but not before he’d gotten a glimpse of her long legs and the neon green lace panties.

Goddamn. He might have looked longer than he should have, but he managed. “Listen to me, Sam. You do not look like a boy.”

But she hadn’t heard him because she’d fallen backward onto the bed and was already out cold, snoring softly.

He went over and gingerly positioned her on her side, and propped a pillow along her back so she wouldn’t roll over on her fresh stitches. After covering her with the blanket, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Because that was what people did when they tucked someone in. He was pretty sure…

Her damp hair smelled like peaches and cream, and with an inner groan he vowed to never let her pick her own shampoo again. He stroked her cheek and smiled at the thought.

She was exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, but in sleep she finally looked peaceful. He wished she could always look this way. It wasn’t fair that she was running for her life. She deserved better.

He admired her in ways he’d never expected. She gave everything her best shot…even when everyone else in her life had let her down. She was better than the lies.

Like Lance, for example. Garrett knew from his own investigation that the loser had already cheated on her three times before he sent the text that night. Garrett hated the bastard.

But he also knew he was no better, himself. He was lying to Sam, too. A lie so big it made Lance look like a saint in comparison.

But Garrett had no choice in the matter. He was stuck in a bad situation. Unfortunately, Sam would be the one to pay.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered before he left her room.

God, how he wished things were different. If he’d been a normal guy who’d met her at a bar on a normal night in the normal way, they might have had a fighting chance.

But as it was, he didn’t deserve her trust, or her smiles.

And especially not her kisses.

When she found out the truth he was keeping from her, she would hate him.

And he wouldn’t blame her one bit.





Chapter Twenty-Four