Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(63)

Claire blinked her eyes open and stretched out her arms, laughing as Charlie scooted closer and began licking her face. Looking up at Grayson, she said softly, “Hey.”

“I didn’t want him to wake you. I was trying to take him into the other room.”

“That’s okay. I need to get up, anyway.” She patted the dog’s head, murmuring that she loved him before throwing back the covers and rising.

Guilt stabbed at Grayson as he watched her move naked across the room. What had he been thinking, taking advantage of her like that last night? It had been unprofessional. And wrong. His grief was no excuse.

Sadness gutted him at the realization that he shouldn’t continue as Claire’s bodyguard. There was no way he could be effective if he was involved with her emotionally. He had no choice but to call Alex back in.

He snagged his jeans off the floor and struggled to get a handle on his emotions.

“What’s wrong, Gray?” Claire asked, belting a white silk robe around herself as she stood frowning at him.

“Nothing.”

As he picked up his shirt from the floor, the look on her face morphed to suspicion.

“You’re regretting last night, aren’t you?”

Damn it. “I am, but not in the way you think.”

Her brow creased, she glanced toward the bed. “What happened while I was asleep?”

“I came to my senses, that’s what happened. I can’t be doing this.” Grayson hardened his resolve, forcing his gaze away from the hurt look on her face. “I can’t be in a relationship. Not with my job. It’s—”

“Don’t do that,” she cried out.

“Don’t do what?”

“Dismiss this.” She gestured between them before putting her hands on her hips. “I find it hard to believe that no one on your team is in a relationship.”

“The failure rate’s pretty high, I promise you.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Things were tanking here, not that he should be surprised.

Claire’s face reddened as she stared at him, then she whirled and rushed into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

Grayson closed his eyes. He’d done what he had to. There could be no regrets.





Chapter Fifty-Two





Claire braced a hand against the bathroom sink as she looked into the mirror. Why had Grayson done that? He’d plowed through everything, ruining in seconds all the headway they’d made the night before.

Trying to calm herself, she took in a deep breath. She’d take a shower and collect herself, then confront him rationally.

But when she walked into the living area a short while later, it wasn’t Grayson drinking coffee at her dining room table. It was Alex.

Her heart sank. “Gray left?”

Alex shifted in his seat, not meeting her eyes. “He asked me to say good-bye for him.”

Grayson wasn’t coming back; Claire knew it instantly. And the amount of pain that realization brought on took her breath away.

It felt as if her insides had gone through a shredder. She’d just begun to understand what true passion was, and now her world had tilted again.

Needing to calm herself, Claire turned back to her bedroom and changed into her running clothes. With Halloween only a couple of weeks away, the temperature had dropped, and she tugged on sweatpants instead of shorts, and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

As she sat on her bed and laced up her shoes, tears slid down her cheeks. Furious at herself, she wiped them away, then called out to Alex.

“Want to run a few miles with me?”





Chapter Fifty-Three





Gasping, Grayson came awake with a start Monday morning, his chest heaving as he reoriented himself.

A dream. It’s just a dream.

Ever since he’d left Claire’s condo four days ago, the insomnia had returned. What little sleep he did get was plagued by nightmares, usually the same one he’d had since he was young. In the dream, he and his mother had just stepped off the front porch of their house when their world came apart.

His mother’s house in Scranton was the second house Grayson lived in; their first home had been destroyed in a gas-line explosion. Grayson and his mother had survived the accident with only bruises and scratches—lucky, everyone had said—but his father hadn’t been so fortunate. He’d been inside the house and didn’t survive the fire.

When Claire had asked him about his father the other night, Grayson wanted to tell her everything, tell her about the insomnia and the fear he’d always had of getting too close to people.

He should have been honest with her, gotten it all off his chest, but it wasn’t his nature to be so vulnerable with someone. And since he didn’t tell her—had pulled away from her like he always did—his chance was gone.

She’d never trust him again, and the thought sent a stabbing pain through his gut.

Shoving aside his bedcovers, Grayson sat up and turned to rest his feet on the floor. He drew in a deep breath, then stood up and headed for the shower to face another shit day.



Alone in his office a short while later, Grayson hunkered down to review everything they had on the kidnapping case. Again.

With Claire’s help, they’d drawn up a list of everyone in her life—friends, classmates, teachers, and former boyfriends. There was no family to check . . . Claire was an only child, as were both her parents, and her grandparents were all deceased. When Grayson had approached the senator for the same, he’d asked his assistant to give Grayson whatever he wanted, so a similar list had been compiled for him that included friends and associates.