Allison Brennan - Fatal Secrets

Ignoring the cards in his hand, Dean soaked all of her in. He noted that though Sonia was relaxed, she hadn’t stopped moving, a bundle of nervous energy. She helped her mother rinse out the bowls and put the remainder of the stew away, then wiped down the counters, though to Dean they looked clean enough to eat on. And when that was done, she grabbed a broom from the cabinet and swept the hardwood floor.

He wondered if she ever stopped moving, even when she slept. He wondered if he’d get a chance to find out.

She caught him staring again.

“I think you just lost to a ten-year-old,” she said with a smirk.

Dean returned his focus to the game. Andres was grinning, as were Duke and Owen. “Full house, right?” said the young card shark.

“Sure is.” Dean pushed his chips over to Andres. “Well, I’m out. We have a long day tomorrow. The stew was delicious, Mrs. Knight.”

“Thank you, Agent Hooper. You’re welcome anytime.”

Duke walked outside with Sonia and Dean. “Don’t worry about your family,” Duke told Sonia. “I’ll keep them safe.”

“Thank you,” she answered, though Dean knew she’d continue to worry until this case was over.

“No thanks necessary.” Duke took her hands in his and said with intensity, “You be careful, too. Kane said these people are vicious.”

“I’m always careful,” Sonia said.

“And I have her back,” Dean added, not quite sure what the relationship was between Sonia and the Rogans-specifically, the elusive Kane Rogan-and fearing that maybe she wasn’t a free woman.

He aimed to find out. Tonight.

Dean walked Sonia into her small, tidy bungalow. There was a small light on in every room and Sonia felt the need to explain, though she sounded a bit sheepish. “I don’t like walking into a dark house. I have night-lights on a timer.”

Though Dean knew what Sonia meant, he let her save face and said, “I don’t blame you. Smart, from a security perspective.” Her bungalow wasn’t homey and well lived in like the Knight family house two blocks away. Dean suspected Sonia didn’t do much but sleep here, but it had a certain charm in the details: a collection of stuffed teddy bears dominated the love seat in the corner of the living room, lacy curtains covered generic venetian blinds, and perhaps the most revealing, an entire wall in the dining room was decorated with photographs of Sonia with her family.

But he was surprised that she didn’t have a security system.

“Why don’t you have an alarm?”

“I never felt the need for one,” she admitted. “Until now. But I’m okay.”

“You won’t mind if I stay here tonight, will you? There are two agents outside, but-”

“Wait.” She stared at him pointedly. “You have two agents watching my house?”

“I was going to tell you,” Dean fibbed. “It’s been a busy day.” Sonia was obviously irritated but too tired to argue. “Get some sleep,” he told her. “I’ll kick back on the couch.”

“I have a guest room,” she said.

“I’d rather be out here.”

“I’ll keep you company for a while.” She went into the kitchen and called, “Thirsty?”

“I’m fine.” He looked at the pictures on the wall. Sonia seemed to have been born a teenager. There were no childhood photos of her.

She came back with a half-glass of white wine and sipped, standing next to him. “That’s Max,” she said, pointing to a tall dark-haired young Marine in full dress. “He’s in Afghanistan right now. Career military.”

“Good for him, and for our country. I was in the Marines for three years.”

“Semper Fi,” Sonia said with pride. She gestured to another picture. “That’s Riley and me at graduation. I’m a year older, but because-you know, my past-I had to play catch-up.”

“You’re close to your brother.”

“He calls me his twin.”

She sounded so forlorn.

“Your family is in good hands,” he told her, clearing his throat.

“I know Duke and his brother will keep them safe.”

“The Knights are good people. I can see why you’re close to them.”

“Owen and Marianne have unlimited love and compassion. I couldn’t have picked better parents.”

She didn’t say anything for a long minute as she stared at her photographs. “You know I’m adopted, right? You know about my history.”

“Some,” Dean said. “You don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Good.”

She didn’t sound like it was good.

“Sonia?” he asked quietly. “You okay?”

“What exactly do you know?” she whispered.

She sounded scared and defensive. Dean refused to be anything but honest with Sonia. “When you were thirteen you escaped from traffickers who planned to sell you into prostitution. You bravely testified against them, foreshadowing the strong, smart, determined woman you are today.”

Her voice cracked when she said, “You make it sound heroic.”

“It was heroic,” he said. He took the wineglass from her hand and put it on the table, staring at her in silence until she looked him in the eye. “I have never met a woman I’ve admired half as much as you.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, sheepish. The tip of her tongue ran across her lips. The physical response hit Dean all at once.

Sonia turned and walked into the adjoining living room, her back to him. He followed.

He wanted to hold her, run his tongue over those soft, red lips, taste the wine on her tongue, taste Sonia. Dean wasn’t impulsive in anything he did, especially with relationships. Each one had been carefully planned. All the women picked for their calm reasoning, their self-sufficiency, their intelligence. Dean’s love life was always separate from his job, and his job always came first. He did nothing spontaneously, he’d never wanted to. Until now.

It was all he could do to control the unfamiliar primal urge to grab Sonia and kiss her. Sonia was anything but calm and cool. She was smart and self-sufficient, but hotheaded, impulsive, and passionate. He couldn’t get her out from under his skin. She’d infected him with a desire he could barely keep under wraps. He was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to fight it anymore.

“Sonia-” he began and stopped.

She turned to face him, their eyes locking. Tears had dampened her lashes and a powerful urge to hold and protect her almost brought Dean to his knees.

“Sonia?” he said quietly, reaching for her, touching her cheek, moving his fingers to her neck, her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice cracked. “I feel like my past is coming back to hurt the only people I truly care about.”

He picked her up and carried her to the couch, sitting with her in his lap, their closeness intoxicating. This wasn’t planned or logical, it probably wasn’t even the right thing to do. But Dean couldn’t imagine this was wrong, not the way he felt or how Sonia felt in his arms.

Her arms went around his neck and she leaned in with a sigh that sent a jolt of carnal heat through his body. She was pressed so closely against him she had to know that he wanted her. She felt so good, so right; the aroma of flowers and sweat, femininity and strength. He brushed her thick, wavy hair away from her face, an intimate gesture, then cupped his hand under her chin. He ran his thumb the length of a faint scar across her cheek.

Over her lips. Her mouth parted, her breath warm as she drew his index finger in with her tongue. She watched his face, and Dean absently wondered what she saw. Did she see that he found her amazing, wondrous, and beautiful? She sucked on his finger, then released it. A quiet groan rumbled in his chest.