He couldn’t go on. The thought of losing Allison was almost too much to bear. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him.
She could feel him shaking. “You were worried about me.”
“Hell yes, I was worried.” He kissed her forehead, then pulled away from her. “The man who ran you off the road works for Stiles. His name is Jud Bronsky, and he’s going to turn state’s evidence against the bastard. He’s got a lot to tell.”
Astonished by the lengths Stiles had been willing to go to, she whispered, “He gave Brett the gun. I don’t know if he would have shot me or not.”
“I’m certain Stiles or one of his men wouldn’t have had any qualms about killing you. He not only wanted your laptop; he wanted you. He was sure he would be able to force you to give him the rest of the code for your software. You’d disappear and he’d sell your work and make a fortune.”
She was having trouble taking it all in. “Where is Stiles now?”
“I just got a call. Bronsky was able to give enough information to track him down. He’s in a gated enclave about a half hour out of Boston. Agents are picking him up right now.”
She was weak with relief. “Brett told me he was afraid of Stiles. Now I understand why. I can’t help feeling sorry for Brett.”
“Oh, hell no.”
“What?” she asked, confused by his reaction.
“You are not going to try to make a deal for Brett or plead on his behalf. He had a gun on you. I’m never going to forget that.” He took her hand and started to walk toward the lobby. “I don’t like you wearing all that makeup,” he said, hoping to change the subject until he could get his nerves under control.
“And I don’t like you looking half-dead.”
“I don’t like seeing anyone pointing a gun at you.”
“I didn’t particularly like it, either,” she replied.
“It scared the hell out of me.”
She glanced up at him. “Me, too.”
They were in the middle of the lobby when he stopped and turned to her. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.”
“I know.”
He leaned down and kissed her. Now was neither the time nor the place, he told himself, but it didn’t seem to matter. “I love you, Allison.”
“I know you do.”
She tried to keep walking, but he stopped her. “That’s all you have to say to me?”
“I love you, too, Liam.”
He kissed her then. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that held nothing back. They were both having difficulty catching their breath when he lifted his head. She tried to take a step back. He wouldn’t let her.
“Isn’t this where you tell me you have to leave tomorrow, and a life with me could never work because of your job and the demands on you?” she asked.
His arms were wrapped around her waist, and he stared into her eyes as he answered, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I used to believe . . . until now. I can’t seem to stay away from you. Have you noticed?”
“I have noticed.”
“What do you think we ought to do about it?” he asked.
She had a sly twinkle in her eyes, and he couldn’t wait to hear what she would say.
“You’re conflicted, Liam, but I’ll be happy to clear it all up for you.”
“Conflicted, huh?”
He didn’t let her explain. He was suddenly eager to get her back to her apartment so he could show her how much he loved her. He had quite a bit inside him to say to her, too. It wasn’t until they were on their way that she finally got his full attention.
“I’m not going to stay around and watch you work yourself to death. I won’t do it, Liam. I’ve been working eighty-hour weeks for Phillips because of that stupid contract, but as soon as the six months are up, things are going to change. I need a life outside of my computer.”
He nodded, but neither one said another word until they were back in her apartment. His silence was making her extremely anxious.
“What do you think?” she finally asked.
“I need a life, too.”
Tears came into her eyes. “You do?”
“Know what else I need?”
“What?” she whispered.
“I need you.” He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “I love you.” He paused for a second and then said, “I quit my job.”
“What . . . You what?”
“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought the last couple of weeks. It took some hard-nosed soul-searching, but I finally figured out what I want. I told the bureau I was going to hand in my resignation Monday.”
Flabbergasted, she stepped back so she could poke him in the chest. “But you love your job. And you quit? What is wrong with you? Don’t you know how to do anything in moderation? Does it always have to be all or nothing with you? Stop grinning at me. I’m trying to make you think about your future.”
“I am thinking about my future,” he insisted.
She let him kiss her before she asked, “When you told them you were quitting, what was the reaction?”
“I got promoted.”
“Promoted?” she repeated. “You got promoted?”
He shrugged. “Go figure.”
“What does that mean?”
“Hell if I know.”
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. “I won’t be traveling much with my new position. I’ve really grown to dislike it, anyway, and I’ve trained enough agents who can get the job done.”
Astonished by what he was telling her, she turned to him, speechless.
“Sweetheart, if you don’t take your clothes off, I can’t ravish you.”
He was desperate to touch her, but he let her wash off the makeup first. When she returned to the bedroom, they set a new record for disrobing. He wanted to go slow, but the passion was too strong. All the feelings he had been holding inside for so long exploded in a glorious moment of ecstasy.
Later, when she was lying next to him, Allison started laughing for no other reason than she was deliriously happy.
“Next time we’ll take it slow, I promise,” he said, and then he laughed because he knew with Allison, that wasn’t possible.
He leaned up and took her hand in his. “I’ve been thinking. . . .”
She waited, and when he didn’t continue, she said, “Yes?”
“What?”
He looked pensive. What was going on in his mind? “You said you’ve been thinking.”
“That’s right. I’ve been thinking you’ll want me to come home to you every night.”
She smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do expect you to come home to me.”
He was searching for the right words, feeling awkward and unsure, which was completely foreign to him. But he wanted it to be right, and he had to get it said now.
“And I’m thinking you’ll want to sleep in my bed every night, so it should probably be our bed.”
“You’re right again. Liam, what are you trying to say?”
He shrugged. “I’m thinking we should probably get married.”
“Yes, we should.”
He grinned. “Okay, since you asked, I’ll marry you.”
“I did not ask you—”
“Sure, you did. Just now.”
“I should warn you, it’s not going to be normal.”
“Sex or our marriage?”
“Our marriage.”
“I didn’t expect it would be.”
“I’m not normal,” she whispered. “You need to know that.”
“Sweetheart, I figured that out five minutes after I met you. You’re far superior to normal.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s the sweetest thing you could have said to me. What’s the matter with you?”
/> “I love you. That’s what’s the matter.”
She cuddled up against him and closed her eyes.
He gently stroked her hair with his fingertips. “I guess we should start looking for a town house somewhere in Silicon Valley.”
“About that . . .”
“What?”
“I’m thinking we should live here in Boston.”
“Yeah? With the new job, living here would be perfect for me,” he admitted.
“I’ll still take on the boys,” she said. “As soon as I’m finished with my newest weapon, they’ll all want it. The FBI gets it first, though.”
“Will you set up your company in our home, then?”
“About that . . .”
She sounded so earnest he braced for the next announcement. “Yes?”
“I’d like to keep working for Phillips.”
“You’re serious?”
“Go ahead and laugh. I know you want to.”
He did exactly that. Once he calmed down, she explained that she was still going to run her company with Jordan. “Please don’t tell Phillips.”
“He’s going to notice when you keep coming to work.”
“He’s going to gloat.”
“Yes, he will.”
“The working conditions will have to change, of course. I’m only going to be available part-time. And I don’t want him pointing to the chair any longer. It’s just plain rude.”
“He loves pointing. You’re going to take that away from him?”
She sighed. “Okay, I’ll let him point to the chair.”
“You’re such a pushover,” he laughed.
“Hey!” She jabbed his shoulder with her finger.
Liam grabbed her hand and kissed it. “When will you tell Charlotte you’re going to stay in Boston?”
“About that . . .”
“You want me to tell her.”
“I’ll tell her we’re getting married first, and then I’ll slip in that we’re staying in Boston. I’ll probably blame you.”
“That’s fine with me. Are you going to tell her you finally confronted your aunt and uncle and really let them have it?”
“Probably,” she said. “Letting them have it didn’t seem to do any good. They’re both still calling. Uncle Russell is always drunk and always shouting.”
“You’ve done enough,” he said. “I’m begging you. Let me have a turn. I can get them to stop. I promise.”
“Sure. Why not? Take a turn. Then they can start calling your number.”
“No, they won’t,” he said with complete confidence.
“You mentioned with your promotion you can take a step back and let other agents you’ve trained handle more of the work.”
“That’s right.”
She raised herself up on her elbow and propped her chin in her hand so she could stare into his amazing green eyes. “And exactly what is that work?”
He answered, “Maybe someday when we’re old and gray, and we’re rocking on the front porch watching our grandchildren, I’ll tell you all about it.”
She kissed him on the cheek and laid her head back down on his chest. For the first time in her life she knew how it felt to love and be loved.
“Sounds good to me,” she whispered.
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Julie Garwood, Wired
(Series: Buchanan-Renard # 13)
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