Rebecca Zanetti: Blind Faith

“No.” He maneuvered into traffic and quickly drove away from the ballroom.

The vehicle filled with her scent of gardenias and woman. He’d seen her naked, he’d tasted her freshly washed skin, and he knew without a doubt that the scent was all her. No perfumes… all female. Once again, the sweetness threatened to drop him to his knees.

He’d loved her. Completely.

“Put on your seat belt,” he said quietly, making a left turn.

“Yours isn’t on.”

Of course his wasn’t on. If something happened, he needed access to his weapon and the availability to jump out of the car already firing. Yet the safest course for Audrey was to be belted in. “Now, Audrey.”

From his peripheral vision, he could see her blink. Could almost feel her mind spinning as she decided whether to defy or humor him.

She hesitated one second too long.

Pulling to the side of the quiet street, he reached over her and grasped the belt. His forearm brushed her breasts, and his groin flared to life. A quick click of the buckle, and he drove the car back onto the road.

“Become a take-charge bully, have you?” she muttered, crossing her legs.

He cut a look at her that felt hard. “Yes. You might want to remember that.” He’d been trained by the best in the world at intimidation.

So when she rolled her stunning blue eyes, he stilled. The woman knew how well he’d been trained, and she understood some of his heightened abilities. After she’d betrayed him, how could she not fear him? At least a little?

She cleared her throat. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere to talk.” He turned down a side street, heading for a motel across the Washington Bridge.

“We can talk here,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s late, and I have work tomorrow.”

He gave a short nod. “How did you escape the men watching you?”

She lifted a creamy shoulder. “I just went out the back door. They weren’t expecting the move because I haven’t done anything unpredictable for the two weeks they’ve been tailing me.”

Smart. Uncomfortably so. “Have you been planning something unpredictable?” he asked.

“No, but a girl likes to keep all options open.”

Was she as calm as she appeared? Tuning in his senses, the ones beyond normal, he took note of her increased heart rate and rapid breathing. Though she looked calm, her body was rioting. Not as in control as she seemed, but he appreciated her nearly bored façade. His Audrey had grown up in the last five years. “I prefer you alone and contained when we speak,” he said. Yeah, he meant to sound threatening.

Her sigh echoed with irritation. “Listen, Nate—”

“No. We’ll talk in a few minutes.”

“Fine.” She turned to watch the streetlights brighten and then dim outside the car, effectively ignoring him.

Several minutes later, he turned into a dive of a motel, parking by the last room on the bottom floor. Audrey reached for her door, and he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Stay in the vehicle.” Jumping out, he shut his door and listened through the storm.

No close-by heartbeats, no sense of danger. Good.

Crossing in front of the car, he opened her door and held out a hand to assist her.

She glanced at his hand and gingerly slid her palm against his. A shiver wandered up her arm, and she stepped out of the car. Tentatively. Waiting for a moment, she tested her balance in those heels on the cracked concrete and released his hand.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She hunched her bare shoulders against the rain, and he herded her toward the doorway to room 112.

Unlocking it, he stepped inside, holding out a hand for her to wait. A quick smell and listen proved nobody had been in the room. “Come in.”

He ushered her inside and shut the door. Ratty orange shag carpet covered the floors, and a maroon flowered bedspread covered the king-sized bed. Two dented chairs perched next to a particleboard table. The television was circa 1980 and the prints on the walls were of dogs playing golf. Not poker… golf.

Audrey glanced around the room and at the bed before turning toward him. “It smells like death in here.”

“Not even close.” The room stank like smoke and sweat, not death. He’d been around enough death to know the difference. “Have a seat.”

She swallowed and glanced at the rickety chairs but didn’t move. “Okay.”

“You won’t need a tetanus shot,” he said. “Probably.” The woman was clearly used to much finer things. He glanced down at her form. The black dress hugged her body, revealing the tops of her incredible breasts. The heels elongated her legs in a way that made him want them wrapped around his hips. She’d tossed her dark hair up on her head, revealing a slender and vulnerable neck. High cheekbones, full mouth, and eyes that defied description as merely blue, Audrey had grown even more beautiful in the five years since he’d last touched her.

But he’d never really known her, now, had he?

“Sit.” He pulled out a chair for her and dropped into the remaining one, hoping it held his weight. “Now talk.”

She gingerly slid onto the chair, eyeing the dented table. Her gaze rose to meet his. “There’s no child, Nate. I’m sorry.”

The words cut into his heart like a spike. He studied her face, her breathing, her movements, eye flickers, and changes in skin temperature to ensure he received the truth. “Were you pregnant?”

“Yes.”

His gut heaved. He didn’t need to ask the next question as to whose kid it was. Audrey had been a virgin when they’d gotten together. “What happened?”

“Miscarriage.” Her voice remained calm, but a flash of pain lightened her eyes. “Eight weeks in, and I miscarried. It’s common and not a reflection of your ability to have more children.”

Sorrow wanted to choke him, so he numbed his feelings. “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That you were pregnant when we broke up?”

“No.” She tapped pink nails on the table. “I found out a week later.”

He eyed her closely. No signs of lying, and the truth ripped through him with painful blades. A kid. A real kid. “Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes.” She lifted a shoulder. “I was trying to figure out a way to get to you without my mother knowing, and the world exploded. You disappeared, I lost the baby, and I thought that was the end of things. I always wanted you to find freedom, and you finally had a chance.”

He leaned toward her. “Why didn’t you leave?”

Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

A lie. Or rather, an evasion. She wasn’t telling him something. “This is the time that you tell me everything Audrey. No secrets.”

Her head jerked up, challenge firming her chin. “Or what?”

He lifted an eyebrow. Good question. “You know I can make you talk.”

She smiled, unveiling a dimple he remembered well in her left cheek. “I know you’re trained, Nate. But I also know that you don’t torture women to get information. I’m not exactly scared here.”

He reached for her hand, flattening it under his. Fire lanced up his arm, settling through his body. One touch. All it took was one touch for his body to light on fire. Yet he kept his voice calm and his face expressionless. “Who said anything about torture?”

She swallowed, a flush sliding from her chest up and over her face. “Get real.”

He didn’t speak, just kept his gaze on hers. Knowing and hard. The way she met his stare impressed him, but he wouldn’t let her win the little contest of wills. Time was running short, and he required her cooperation.

She gave in first with a little huff. “Fine. What do you want?”