Convicted - Romig Aleatha (читать книги полностью без сокращений .TXT) 📗
Liz sighed, momentarily allowing her hips to be pulled toward his; however, when his hands lowered to her round behind, Liz pushed away. “Well, I think we need to talk. I mean, what’s this relationship anyway? What am I?”
Harry lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Are we dating again, or just having sex?”
Running his fingers through his hair, Harry sighed. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I don’t want you stuck in some holding pattern. It could be a few days—or a few months. That’s not fair to you.”
Liz set the bottle on the counter with enough force to allow droplets of water to escape onto the granite top. “Fine,” she said as she turned toward the door.
Harry grabbed her arm and turned her back toward him, pulling her into his strong embrace. Looking down into her light blue eyes, he softened his tone. “What is this? I thought we’d been through this. You know it’s my job.”
Liz nodded into his chest. “I do. I just don’t know what that means.”
Harry lifted her chin. “Why are you suddenly upset?”
“It’s not suddenly, Harry. It’s still!”
Exhaling, Harry took Liz by the hand and led her to his sofa. “It was a job. I let it get out of hand. It’s over. She’s remarried. She’s having someone else’s kid!”
“You told me it was over with her after you found out about the kid not being yours.”
Harry’s voice became louder. “It was! We’ve—you and me—have been back together since then. What is this?”
Liz stood and paced about his living room pretending to have interest in all the things lying around. Finally, she answered, “I want to believe you—I do. I can do the whole secret-agent girlfriend thing. Christ, Harry! I was kidnapped and forced to watch some assholes beat the shit out of you!” She inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I kept my mouth shut the whole time that stupid slut was here.” She turned her eyes to Harry.
He knew she was waiting for a reaction. Luckily, years of training allowed him to remain stoic.
Liz continued, “I did! I smiled and played nice, even after Amber told me you two were sleeping together.”
Harry exhaled—damn his sister! He knew she’d been the one to inform Liz, but hearing it reminded him how Amber needed to learn to keep her mouth shut! Agent training summoned, Harry stood and walked to Liz. Lifting her chin, he kissed her lips once again—softly and slowly. “I’m sorry. The whole thing put you in a terrible place. Is this something we can ever get past, or will I hear about it every time you’re mad at me, for the rest of our lives?”
Her lips curved upward. “The rest of our lives?”
“Or, until you tell me to hit the road.”
Her blue eyes closed, and her lashes fluttered on her cheek. “You’ve never talked about the future, even when we were living together.”
Harry shrugged. “The whole kid thing”—he pulled her close—“sorry, but it made me realize I might want that.” He felt her breasts against his chest. The tighter he held her, the harder her nipples became under her blouse. “Then, when Jillian was threatened, I thought about her. She’s beautiful and happy. She doesn’t need me showing up in her life, but another kid...” His lips brushed hers. “Maybe, I’m growing up?”
With her hand in his, he again pulled her toward the sofa. Leaning over her, their lips met. Harry gently pulled her blouse from the confines of her skirt. Within seconds, his hands were under her blouse and bra, caressing the firm, round breast he’d moments earlier been imagining. When his thumb began to trace circles around her nipple, Liz’s head fell back and a moan escaped her lips.
“Harry...Harry...”
Later that evening, while they lingered in Harry’s bed, Harry watched Liz sleep. With his head on his elbow, he took in her beautiful features. Everything about her said California, from her blonde hair to her tan skin. She grew up in southern California and moved north after college. Working at SiJo wasn’t her lifelong dream; she’d shared her desires for her future. That was part of her allure—they had a past. He and Liz had lived together—had good times together—and made mistakes together. It was real, not created by the FBI. She even knew what he did for a living and still wanted to be with him. Damn, hearing her talk about being kidnapped pulled at Harry’s heart. As much as he wanted a future with her, he had every right to worry about her safety.
As it was, Ilona and Jillian had only recently been allowed home and still had surveillance. Ilona had been much more understanding than Harry ever expected. Now that Harry was off the Nichols/Rawlings case, the bureau believed the threat to his ex-wife and their child would soon be gone; however, in Harry’s mind that attack still didn’t make sense.
About a month ago, Harry made a visit to the Rawlings estate. He had to see Ms. London in person. He fully monitored every one of her reactions. The first came when Harry introduced himself as Harry Baldwin—Claire’s ex-boyfriend and friend of John and Emily Vandersol. London appeared genuinely surprised to learn Claire had dated anyone else while in California. She offered her condolences regarding Claire’s disappearance. She also promised to contact him or the Vandersols if she learned anything. To make the conversation more believable, Harry mentioned Emily and how upset she was about her sister, especially with her emotions running high, due to her recent pregnancy.
Never once during the conversation did Harry get the feeling she knew of Claire’s location or that she knew anything about him. That reaction begged the question, why would Catherine London order an attack on him or threaten his family? Obviously, the person who did it knew him—knew he was FBI—and knew about Ilona and Jillian. Even though the deputy director had reassigned Harry, he knew that he couldn’t let go of this particular piece of the puzzle. One day, he’d learn who threatened his family, his life, and his investigation.
Liz stirred, murmuring as she rubbed her cheek against his pillow. Her blonde hair and soft skin pulled him closer. He wanted to be honest with her, he really did; nonetheless, it wouldn’t do either one of them any good for her to know that he still thought about Claire, from time to time. Sometimes when he’s alone he remembered what it was like to be with her. It wasn’t just the sex. He thought about how scared she was when she first moved to Palo Alto. Every time he remembered her buying her first cell phone, a smile came to his lips. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but he felt his cheeks raise. When he first met Claire, she was like a frightened fawn exploring the world on her own. He was drawn in by a need to protect her from all the dangers—including Anthony Rawlings. Even before Harry knew the details, he knew that she’d been hurt. Looking into her emerald eyes, he knew that it was something he didn’t want her to experience again.
Harry cared about Liz. He could even see spending the rest of his life with her. She was different than Claire—so strong and independent. How many women would take him back after what he’d done? Granted she gave him hell about it—he deserved it. Harry admired her strength and strong will. With an appreciative smile, he knew he also admired her ingenuity. Never once did she blow his cover with Claire or the Vandersols, yet her jealousy played a significant role in his and Claire’s first big fight. When Amber received the call—at the last minute—about Rawlings being at the gala, Harry knew Liz had withheld the information on purpose. He even told Amber.
Watching her sleep peacefully, Harry moved her soft blonde hair away from her neck. Damn, he loved that neck. Fighting the urge to wake her, he smiled.
There was no doubt that he was pissed during the night of the gala. He was pissed at Liz and at Claire; however, now Harry had to give Liz an A for effort. She took the cards she’d been dealt and played them—she played them very well.
