Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(25)

“Yeah.”

“This is my last favor.”





CHAPTER EIGHT


Sera woke up staring at the scales of justice painted on the guest room ceiling.

In another time or place, the irony of it might even be funny. Right now, mere hours after allowing one of New York City’s most notable criminals access to her body, ehh, not so much. To make matters worse, she’d actually been disappointed last night when they came home and he didn’t try to touch her again. He’d told her to make herself something to eat, then closed himself in his room without another word. She’d stood at the kitchen counter and eaten a bowl of Cheerios before reciting her nightly ritual of Our Fathers before heading to bed.

She should have been grateful for time to think and regroup. Instead, she’d found herself staring at the door, willing it to open. This attraction she felt for Bowen didn’t seem possible to control.

It was getting in the way of her investigation?louding her judgment, distracting her. Last night, after finding her brother’s name in Hogan’s ledger book, she’d welcomed that distraction, but in the light of day, hiding wasn’t an option. Colin had to have had a solid reason for taking payouts, and now her job would include finding it. Otherwise, bringing down Hogan could mean incriminating her brother in the process.

Last night, she’d gone down to Hogan’s office seeking answers, but today she only had more questions.

Bowen’s easy acceptance of her cover story still made no sense. Unless, of course, her first theory still proved true.

Knowing they would dispose of her once Hogan returned meant it didn’t matter what she knew. It would follow her to the bottom of the East River or wherever they planned to dump her. But she couldn’t reconcile that outcome with the Bowen she’d spent even a short amount of time with. He wasn’t a callous man, at least when it came to her. On the contrary. She thought back to the tender kiss he’d given her after their encounter on the steps. The penetrating way he’d looked at her. Could he spend a week with her, then hand her over to Hogan?

Just the idea of it hurt.

Not good, Sera.

Even more baffling than Bowen’s behavior? Connor had assisted them last night. Yes, they’d formed a fledgling friendship while she’d been attending his injury, but he was related to Hogan.

Why would he help them?

She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up in bed. When she swung her legs over the side, something caught her eye. Just above her pillow, a white oval had been painted. No, not an oval. A halo. She couldn’t remember if it had been there yesterday and she just hadn’t noticed. How could she have missed it?

After a final curious glance, she left the room and went to shower.

Twenty minutes later, she’d showered and changed into leggings, an oversize button-down shirt, and ballet flats. She sat on the windowsill staring out toward Manhattan, piling her hair into a bun, when Bowen walked out of his bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of partially unbuttoned jeans. Immediately, she noticed his body had been marked in several places. Fresh bruises, faded scars, all layered over rough-cut muscle.

Powerful. After she managed to drag her gaze away from his distracting physique, she

registered

immediately

how

exhausted he looked. Stubble darker than his hair covered his jaw; dark circles formed half moons under his eyes, telling her he hadn’t slept well. Even after the pep talk she’d just given herself about holding herself back from him, lest she forget why she came, Sera wanted to go to him. Run her fingers through his hair…and see if her touch could get him to sleep.

Whoa, don’t get too racy with the fantasies, Saint Sera.

She ignored the sarcastic voice in her head and waved. “Morning.”

He walked toward her as if compelled, not stopping until he stood so close, she couldn’t inhale without taking in the masculine scent emanating from his skin. The way he looked at her would have been unnerving if she hadn’t already witnessed his intense nature. He scanned her from head to toe, as if to reassure himself she was in one piece. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, but she had no idea why.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How’d you sleep?”

She answered honestly. “I dreamed I was scuba diving.”

His quick laugh seemed to surprise him. “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

“Not good. They dropped me into the water and tossed instructions at me.

Only, the instructions dissolved the minute they touched the water. I tried to tell them I didn’t know how to scuba dive, but my words came out sounding like Charlie Brown’s teacher.”

He shook his head at her. “What did you eat before bed?”

“Cheerios.”

“That explains it.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Cheerios made you think of life preservers. Life preservers made you think of the ocean.”

“You’re good at this.” She tilted her head. “How do you explain the Charlie Brown voice?”

“Oh, that just means you’re weird.”

They shared a laugh, the sound intimate in the stillness of the morning. “What were you thinking about when I walked out here?”

The gruff quality of his voice made her shiver. Knowing she couldn’t tell him the whole truth, she went with an adjusted version. “I was thinking I haven’t been anywhere in the last two weeks. Apart from here and the club.”