Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(76)

While they waited, Claire asked, “Will you stay with me tonight?” When Grayson didn’t reply right away, she looked up and caught his eye. “I guess I don’t need a bodyguard anymore, but I don’t want to be alone tonight. Not after all that happened.”

Grayson studied her for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll stay as long as you want . . . as long as you’ll have me.”

So much had happened in the last twelve hours that she hadn’t wanted to think about yet. Learning that Peter had arranged to have her kidnapped—and ultimately been responsible for Jeremy’s death—was a lot to process. And seeing a man she’d once called uncle being shot and killed . . . it was too much.

They went back upstairs and Claire sped through her nightly routine with Charlie, rinsing out his food and water bowls and then filling them again. As the dog made quick work of his dinner, snuffling in the bowl as he snatched another bite of kibble, Claire found her eyes burning with the threat of unwanted tears.

I won’t cry for Peter. Not after what he did. I won’t.

Peter Cooley had been Claire’s father’s right hand for so many years, the possibility of betrayal from him seemed hard to believe. Although a gruff taskmaster at the office, Peter had always been kind to Claire, ensuring she was kept in the loop and taken care of when her parents were too busy to call. On the days her father had taken her to the office when she was a little girl, Uncle Peter had been the one to take her to the break room for a doughnut, and find something to entertain her with while she waited. She’d truly believed that he’d been a good man, that he’d cared for her, but how could that be true after what he’d done?

When a tear dared slip free, leaving a warm trail down her cheek, she swiped it away. A small sob escaped before she could stop it.

Strong arms came around her, pulling Claire into a hard chest. Her knees weak, she fell limp against Grayson, grateful for the comfort he offered. She turned around and lifted her hands to his face, pulling him close for a kiss.

He kissed her hard, taking her mouth in a hungry onslaught that left her gasping. When she pressed her hips against him, needing more, Grayson slid his hands down her arms and took her hands, twining his fingers with hers as he gentled his kiss.

Leaning his forehead against hers, Grayson groaned. “I want you so much, but I can’t do this.”

Stunned, Claire sucked in a breath and pulled back. “Are you serious? You’re going to do this to me again?”

He chuckled and pulled her close, pressing her face against his chest. “No, you don’t understand. I intend to spend as many nights as you’ll let me, and make love to you until you beg me to stop. But tonight . . .” He leaned back and caught her gaze. “Tonight, I just want to sleep. I need it so badly, I can’t even think straight. And to do that, I need you in my arms.”

Relief filled Claire and she smiled up at him. “On one condition.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “And that is?”

“That you stay for the whole weekend. No running out of here, no emergency calls, no work of any kind. Just you and me.”

Grayson’s lips widened into a huge smile. “Deal.”

“And one more thing. You’ve got some explaining to do about running off the next morning after we—”

Grayson pressed a finger to her lips. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning, Claire. I swear. You have no idea how shitty I feel about that, but there was a good reason.”

He leaned close and pressed his lips to hers, making her dizzy as he deepened the kiss. Claire was breathless as he pulled away, but she wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“Trying to change the subject?”

“No, but if you don’t want me to fall asleep on my feet,” he said softly, “you’ll take me to bed.”

And so she did.





Chapter Sixty-Seven





“How’s the leg?” Eli asked, his voice rumbling through the phone.

“It was just a scratch,” Grayson said, and his boss laughed.

“I’ll bet. Are you on your way to the office?”

Grayson tapped on his brakes, easing his Suburban to a stop in Monday morning rush-hour traffic. “Trying, but there are about fifty thousand cars in my way.”

Eli chuckled. “Meet me at the jail instead. Rex Gibson is ready to talk.”

“You’re kidding.”

Grayson’s heart raced. Following his arrest four weeks ago, Gibson had lawyered up and refused to cooperate. After the invasion of the safe house and Jeremy’s death, more charges had been added. Now that his arraignment and preliminary hearing had passed and his court date was coming up, he’d obviously had time to think. The litany of charges against him at his arraignment included possession, drug-dealing, kidnapping, criminal conspiracy, and accessory to murder, just to name a few. He got a glimpse of the prosecution’s case against him at the prelim, and probably realized he’d be a very old man when, and if, he ever got out of jail.

Cursing as he tried to find a parking spot near the DC Jail, Grayson circled the block until a spot opened up. He pulled in and parked quickly, then hurried to the second-floor meeting room he was directed to by a corrections officer.

Alone in the room, Eli stood up from the table when Grayson entered. “Lucky for you, Gibson’s attorney is late.”