Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(31)

No big deal. Play it cool. Ailish reached up and traced the abused skin around Henrik’s eye. “Who did this to you?”

Dark eyes watching her closely, he turned and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I thought you had something to tell me.”

Ailish sat up and snagged one of the bed pillows off the bed, holding it against her body. “That’s right. You left without saying good-bye yesterday and I haven’t forgiven you for it. What are you going to do to win back my favor?”

The corner of Henrik’s mouth twitched. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to change the subject?” When Ailish said nothing, Henrik sighed and moved into a sitting position. “‘Good-bye’ is a word I don’t like associating with you.”

“Oh.” Ailish sniffed, her irritation vanishing in a puff of smoke. “I thought you were going to say you couldn’t do good-bye properly in front of Connor and Erin.”

Henrik looked back at her over his shoulder. “Mmm. That too, baby.”

Warmth snaked into her belly, around her hips. Being near Henrik was like having a lasso around your middle that tightened without any warning. “Did you beat up the man who punched you in the face?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Do you really want to know that?”

“I grew up around violence, Henrik. I hate it, but I’m not scared of it.”

Henrik’s big body shifted on the bed so he was facing her. Ailish tried and failed not to let her gaze stray to his lap, where his erection lounged on his inner thigh. H’oh Lord. We might need to work up to it. No kidding. “I won the match, Ailish. But I don’t want you thinking of me as a man who uses fighting as an outlet.”

She moved a little closer on the bed, running a fingertip over his bruised, taped-up knuckles. “I thought it was just an excuse to get close to my father.” At the mention of Caine, Henrik’s jaw clenched. “But you fight because you like it.”

It took him some time to answer. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

He turned his hand over so Ailish could stroke his palm with nimble fingers. “There’s so much…pretense everywhere. So much we can’t see. But in the ring, it’s clear-cut. Two men after one thing. No bullshit.”

Guilt tracked up Ailish’s spine, but she mentally shook it off. He hadn’t been entirely truthful with her either, had he? She dipped her chin. “Two men after one thing. What is it?”

Henrik’s brows drew together, as if he’d never considered the answer out loud before. “It’s not always the same thing for every man.”

“What is it for you?”

Silence passed. “A reminder that, if I can feel pain, I’m still real. I’m still there. No matter what I’ve lost.” Abruptly, Henrik stood and pulled up his jeans, perusing her as he fastened them around his hips. “Are you going to ask me what happened with your father?”

Ailish was still transfixed by Henrik’s explanation of feeling pain, so the change in topic threw her for a minute. “I was stalling.”

Henrik half smiled. “You say exactly what you’re thinking, don’t you?”

“Not always,” she murmured, tossing aside the pillow to tug down her skirt, but Henrik beat her to the task, pushing aside her hands to slowly replace the garment for her. After her clothing was back in place, big hands slipped down her thighs to apply pressure to both knees, moving them apart. Wide. Wider.

Henrik dipped his head, looking over what he’d revealed for so long, Ailish could feel herself getting wet again before his eyes. “A little forewarning. I’m going to have your * again for dinner tonight, baby.”

Ailish’s stomach hollowed out. “Why do I get the feeling you’re changing the subject?”

“You’re nervous about asking me what happened in Chicago. I need you to know everything is going to be okay.” He cradled her neck in one loose hand and guided Ailish back onto the bed, before climbing on top of her fully clothed. Even so, her body was so sensitive from his mouth and hands, the rasping of his jeans along her flesh filled her with shock waves. When her breath started to wheeze in and out, a laugh rumbled through Henrik, who supported himself on two elbows. His amusement eventually gave way to focus, though. “Ailish, your father offered me a job.”

In an instant, her nerves were pulled tighter than an archer’s bow. Although Henrik’s bulk made it impossible, her body tried to jackknife off the bed, moving on pure instinct. “No. No, Henrik. You didn’t…take the job, did you?” She wet her lips. “The money isn’t worth your soul.”

His expression shifted with disappointment. “If I take the offer, it will be in the interest of my job as an undercover player, Ailish. Not because I think it would be a wise career move.”

He was offended, but she didn’t have the room to care just then. Something worse was coming, she could feel it. “He wouldn’t offer you a job without a test of loyalty. What did you promise him?” Ailish whispered the final word, already knowing what the answer would be. She yearned to pace, but he’d obviously pinned her down for a reason, dammit.

“You know what he asked of me.” Henrik leaned down, bringing their faces an inch apart. “But I can’t do it, Ailish. I can’t do anything that could result in you being hurt, baby. Do you see that?”