Chapter 22

CHAPTER22

“No headache?” Aunt Harriet asked as she shined a penlight into Marin’s eyes.

“No,” Marin replied.

The rest of her body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, but, thankfully, her head felt fine. Her heart on the other hand, well, that was as battered and bruised as the rest of her.

“No concussion, then. That’s good,” her godmother said. “I’ll bring you something to help you sleep when I go get the salve for your scrapes. Your lip will probably take twenty-four hours for the swelling to go down, but then you’ll be able to cover the bruise with makeup.” Her aunt shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe Bita actually hit you. For that matter, I can’t believe Bita was a spy.”

Marin pressed an ice pack to her tender mouth. “After the week I’ve had, nothing will ever shock me ever again.”

Aunt Harriet gave Marin’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

There was a soft knock at the door. Marin’s heart raced, the stupid organ hoping it was Griffin.

Aunt Harriet looked at her speculatively. “If that’s Bita, I’m sending her away.”

Marin grinned before forgetting about her sore mouth. More than likely that was who was waiting behind the door. She returned the ice pack to her lip. Griffin was still firmly in special agent mode, especially now that he was so close to breaking his case wide open. He had to go to Greece. His career came first. It always would. Nothing had changed. Marin’s tender heart would do well to remember that.

But it wasn’t Bita at the door. Instead, Diego’s tall frame filled the doorway.

“I’ll be back in a minute with those meds,” Aunt Harriet said as she slipped out behind him.

Her friend looked a little sheepish holding a vase of bright tulips in his hands.

“Diego!” Marin cried. “What are you doing here so late at night?”

The sous chef ventured further into the Queen’s bedroom, placing the vase on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “Everyone is still here. The entire kitchen staff, all the under butlers, and assistant ushers,” he said. “No one wanted to leave until they knew you were safe. Fran sent these from the florist shop.”

Blinking back tears, Marin fingered one of the soft tulip petals. “That is so sweet.”

He stared at her face before closing his eyes and shaking his head solemnly.

With a deep breath, Diego opened his eyes again. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you. Not until I apologized,” he explained. “If I hadn’t gone to talk to Walter in the Navy Mess that morning, I would have been on the stairs with you.” Diego’s face became fierce. “He wouldn’t have gotten past me.”

Marin took her friend by the arm and led him to the sofa. They both sat down. “None of this is anyone’s fault,” she insisted. Except maybe Bita’s. But Marin knew enough not to mention the woman’s involvement. “I was just in the right place at the wrong time.”

“But if I had been here on Monday like I was supposed to. . .” Diego’s voice trailed off.

“Now that I am a little peeved at,” she said. “People were dying all around me. I thought the worst when you didn’t show up for work.”

Diego glanced down at his hands. “I know. The admiral told me when he was reaming me out.”

“I’m glad he didn’t fire you.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he wanted to. But he said the final decision would be up to you.”

He gave her a contrite smile.

Marin patted his arm. “The way you pull sugar? No way will I ever fire you,” she teased before laying her head on his shoulder.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“I didn’t even know you were considering marriage,” Marin finally said.

Diego chuckled. “Neither did I. Love kind of snuck up on me.”

“But deserting work?”

“Not my finest moment,” he replied. “Sometimes love makes you do stupid things.”

Marin thought of the embarrassing declaration of love she’d made earlier. Her stomach dropped as she tried not to cringe. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Fortunately, Walter is not as impetuous as I am. I won’t leave you stranded again, Boss.”

“I’m eager to meet this paragon.”

“Coffee tomorrow?” Diego asked.

“It’s a date.”

The First Lady entered the bedroom carrying a tray with some sandwiches and fruit. Marin followed Diego as he stood up from the sofa.

“Lillie made you cucumber sandwiches,” he said. “I know how much you like them.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Please tell everyone downstairs I said thank you.”

“See you in the morning,” Diego said. He nodded to Aunt Harriet. “Good night, ma’am.”

“Shower first and then eat,” Aunt Harriet instructed after the bedroom door closed. “You’ll feel more like yourself once you get into something clean. The agents brought over the clothes from the safe house.” Her aunt kissed her on the forehead. “Just let one of the agents on duty know if you need me. Anytime, ya hear?”

Marin nodded dutifully as her aunt left the room.

She kicked off her shoes and carefully removed her clothes, trying not to jar her battered body too much. Her aunt was right, a hot shower would feel good. She headed for the bathroom.

* * *

Griffin leaned a shoulder against the arched corridor just outside the Queen’s bedroom. One of the agents on the First Lady’s detail stood beside the door waiting patiently for her to come out. Griffin was having a hard time remaining as patient.

The door finally opened and the First Lady exited. She stopped abruptly when she spied Griffin, still dressed in his battle dress uniform, hanging out in an area of the White House where he shouldn’t be late at night. Her face was hard to read when she closed the distance between them.

“It seems we owe you another debt of gratitude, Agent Keller,” she stated, quietly. “Her grandfather will likely give you a hotel, if you want it.”

“I’m happy with my current position, thank you.”

“That’s a shame. That job is likely a lot safer.” The First Lady glanced back at the closed door. “She needs a shower and sleep. Looking at you, I’d prescribe the same remedy.”

“Not until I know she’s okay.”

She let out a resigned sigh. “Not all of her wounds are visible, Agent Keller. Please be careful with her heart.”

He didn’t bother telling Marin’s godmother that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her heart now that she’d given it to him. Griffin was using his figure-it-out-as-I-go-along strategy to deal with that dilemma. The First Lady moved past him through the archway, her agent trailing discreetly behind her. Griffin waited for their footsteps to fade before crossing the hall and entering the Queen’s bedroom.

The shower was running and steam wafted out the bathroom door. Griffin should be a gentleman and sit and wait for her to finish. But his feet were moving independently of his brain. He hesitated at the threshold to the bathroom, trying to figure out a way to announce his presence without terrifying an already shaky Marin.

He needn’t have bothered. She carefully peeked around the shower curtain, almost as though she had sensed his arrival. Her cheeks were rosy from the warm water and her eyes radiated pleasure when they landed on him.

“As usual, Special Agent Keller, you’re overdressed,” she said before disappearing back behind the curtain.

Not needing to be told twice, Griffin stripped out of his uniform, furiously yanking at the laces of his boots in order to pull them off. A moment later, he stalked across the room and joined Marin in the shower. The vision of her wet, naked body stole his breath while making him painfully hard at the same time. She was everything he dreamed about. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Marin,” he murmured against her wet hair.

His hands roamed her slick body, tracing her luscious curves. She pulled his head down for a lusty, demanding kiss, only to have to break away seconds later. Her fingers went to her bruised lip.

Griffin swore. “If I never see that woman again, it will be too soon.”

“Shhh,” she commanded. “Turn around.”

Griffin didn’t want to turn around. The scenery was just fine the way he was facing. But she had a testy look in her eyes, so he did as she asked. He was instantly glad he’d listened when her teeth scored his back, and her hands reached around his waist to grip his erection. Griffin struggled for a handhold against the wet tile as she stroked him.

“Mmm.” She sighed against his skin.

Her hands didn’t linger there for long, however. She trailed her fingers up along his chest before reaching up to drag them through his wet hair. The next thing he knew, she was massaging shampoo into his scalp. He was amazed at how good it felt.

“Rinse,” she said before sliding past him.

Again, Griffin did as he was told. When he opened his eyes, he glanced down and saw her ravaged knees. Swearing under his breath, he slammed the water off with one hand gently lifting a shivering Marin into his arms. He grabbed a fluffy towel off the rack and draped it around her body. Stepping out of the tub, he sat her down on the counter beside the sink, wrapping the towel more snuggly around her before grabbing one for himself and vigorously drying off.

Marin sat quietly while Griffin cataloged the injuries to her body. He kissed the scraped skin on her palms before crouching down and brushing his lips over her battered kneecaps, all the while cursing the dead Ukrainian.

“Marin.” He rested the side of his head against her thigh. “If I could kill Salenko again I would.”

“Don’t.” She threaded her fingers through his wet hair forcing his eyes to meet her watery ones. “I don’t want to think about him or any other part of it. And I definitely don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be with you. I need to live in this moment, Griffin. Not the past. Can we do that tonight?” she pleaded.

That, he could do. His eyes never leaving hers, Griffin turned his head slightly so that his lips brushed along the tender skin of her inner thigh. Marin shivered beneath his touch. Gripping her ass, he slid her to the edge of the counter. Her lips curved up in a satisfied smile as she wrapped her legs around his neck.

Griffin would have liked to take his time and draw the pleasure out for her, but her body hummed with a sense of urgency. She needed this release to help her relax; to help her escape the ugly memories of the past week. Delving his tongue into her sweetness, her excitement built. Marin came in a rush, her body convulsing wildly against his mouth.

When he got to his feet, she was leaning against the mirror, her eyes closed, a look of bliss fixed on her face. A delicate flush had spread all over her body. Opening her eyes, she reached for him, but he backed away.

“No, we’re going to do this right. In a bed,” he said.

Her body was warm against his skin when he lifted her up to his chest. She draped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his jaw as he carried her over to the canopied bed that had once belonged to Andrew Jackson. Griffin laid her in the center of the mattress while he went to retrieve a condom. There was an effervescent smile on her face when he returned to the bed. It stirred up something inside Griffin so powerful he had to look away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He crawled onto the bed beside her, resting his hand across her taut midriff. “Save your thanks for later, I’m not done with you yet, wench.” He winked at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Smiling serenely, Marin cupped his jaw with her hand. “And in doing so, you will have rescued me once again.”

Griffin studied her beautiful face, ignoring the niggling feeling shimmying down his spine that, perhaps, Marin was rescuing him from something. Instead, he moved over her, sliding inside her warm, welcoming body. Gently, he brushed his lips against her wounded ones. She responded by squeezing around him. Griffin’s restraint slipped its leash and moments later they were a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the heat of passion. Marin arched against him, throwing her head back with a silent scream when she climaxed. Griffin was right behind her, following her into ecstasy with a blinding release that had him gasping out her name like a prayer.

* * *

Marin awoke to the feeling she was being watched. She fluttered her eyelids open and glanced around the bedroom. Griffin sat at the edge of the antique bed, one shoulder propped against the canopy post. He was dressed in the combat gear he’d worn the night before. She glanced over at the clock. It was five in the morning.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said softly. “But I have to go downstairs and change to catch my flight. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Moving was still painful with all her cuts and bruises, but she needed to face him from an upright position. Marin armored herself by pulling the floral sheet tightly around her naked body before she sat up.

“I’m glad you woke me,” she lied. A big part of her—the cowardly part—had hoped he’d be less of a gentleman and slip out into the dawn. Then there was that small part who adored Griffin for who he was.

She glanced around the room, anything to avoid having to meet his perceptive eyes. The tray of food was empty. They’d inhaled the sandwiches and fruit hours ago between bouts of lovemaking. When they weren’t communicating with their bodies, they’d made easy small talk, both of them managing to tiptoe around the elephant in the room—her brash declaration of love. The one he hadn’t reciprocated.

“You understand why I have to go?” Griffin sounded as anxious as she felt.

“Of course, I understand. You need to finish what you started. To wrap up this case. And you have to go get Elena.” She forced her lips into as much of a grin as they could tolerate. “I’m done needing to be constantly rescued. Elena needs you now. Rescuing women in distress is what you do.”

Those ocean eyes of his seemed to bore through her as she rambled on senselessly.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it back for the wedding.”

Marin waved him off. “Don’t worry about that.”

His eyes narrowed even more. “I do worry about it because it’s important to you.”

“Really, Griffin, after everything I’ve been through these last few days, I’m confident I can brazen it out and stand up to my cousin. I don’t need a date to her wedding anymore.”

Standing up to Ava would be a piece of cake after this conversation.

He rose slowly from the bed and began to pace around the room, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands while he walked. Marin swallowed uneasily. This was much harder than she thought it would be.

Griffin blew out a heavy breath and turned back to face her. “Okay. When will you be back in DC?”

Now they had arrived at the most difficult part of the conversation. Marin buried her hands in the sheets so that he wouldn’t see them shaking.

“I’m not sure.” Her tongue darted out to lick her throbbing lip. “But it really doesn’t matter because I don’t think we should see one another any longer.”

His body jerked to attention. “Why not?” The two words seemed to crackle from his mouth like lightning strikes.

She sighed resolutely and pushed on through. “This”—she waved her hand over the bed—“has been wonderful. You have been wonderful. I couldn’t have gotten through any of this week’s drama without you. And I’m so grateful that you were the one here to protect me. But it’s over now. It has to be.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘it has to be’?” he demanded. “What about what you said last night? In the field. With Salenko.”

Marin wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry that he couldn’t seem to get out the word “love.”

“You mean when I told you that I love you?” she asked.

His face looked stricken. Surely, she was imagining it. No man would want a woman gushing about love if he didn’t feel the same way.

“You didn’t mean it?” he asked.

She swallowed roughly, trying to get her voice to remain firm and composed.

“Of course, I meant it, Griffin. I do love you,” she said softly. “And I’m okay with you not loving me back. It’s better than you saying something you don’t mean. I’ll survive. I promise.” She paused to take a steadying breath. “I know the only commitment you ever plan on making is to your career. I get that. I’ve understood it from the beginning. Being a Secret Service agent—the best Secret Service agent, in my humble opinion—is who you are. And it’s also one of the things I love about you. I couldn’t ask you to give that up and still live with myself.” She paused again.

The air had gone still in the room. Griffin’s expression was fixed and stoic.

Marin gulped in another breath and pressed on. “But if we continue this, whatever this is, I’d always want more than you’re prepared to give. And that’s not fair. To either one of us.”

Griffin opened his mouth and then promptly closed it again. Marin ached to touch him again, to have him hold her against him.

“You’re right,” he finally said.

His words were like a sledgehammer to her heart, shattering it into a million pieces.

“Thank you for your honesty, Marin.” He turned to head for the door.

“Promise me something, Griffin,” she called out to his retreating back.

Griffin turned to face her. “Anything,” he said.

The softly uttered word shattered her heart even further. Griffin was capable of so much love, if he’d only let himself.

“Be safe,” she croaked out.

He nodded. And then he was gone.

Marin sat in the middle of the great big bed in the Queen’s bedroom, tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to convince herself she’d just done the right thing by letting him go.