Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I t was late by the time the team finished moving every cent they could find out of Eddie Hanson’s accounts. Noah stood and stretched, his gaze straying to Annabelle, curled up in the old armchair. She’d been sound asleep for an hour or so, with his old denim jacket tucked around her and a fluffy pink cushion under her head. She was so beautiful—all soft curves and a mass of unruly dark hair. Just looking at her made him feel… blessed. Great, he could almost hear Jacob mocking him: “Do you mean hashtag blessed, Dad?” Man, he missed his kids. Lately, they’d spent more time with Annabelle than with him.

With a rueful smile, he addressed the remaining members of his, albeit temporary, team. “I’m turning in for the night.”

Rochelle tore her eyes from the screens. “It is late. Think I’ll call it a night too.” She stood and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. “We should all get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring once Eddie wakes up to find his money’s gone. You checked security again, didn’t you? The building’s locked up tight?”

“Yep. And we’re doubling up on guard duty tonight. Just in case.” Noah glanced at Annabelle again. “I need to get her to bed.”

Rochelle cocked an eyebrow, amusement crinkling her eyes at the corners.

“To sleep,” Noah corrected quickly, his cheeks burning.

“Is that what you old people call it?” Evan drawled, his attention still on the screen in front of him.

Noah absently reached out and smacked him on the back of the head. Rochelle laughed. It was good to hear.

“Go to bed,” she ordered. “All of you.”

“Yes, Boss,” Evan said, rubbing his head.

Abasi slowly got to his feet and inclined his head toward Annabelle. “Need a hand getting her upstairs?”

“Seriously? You’re suggesting I’m old too? We’re the same damn age. I can carry her just fine on my own.”

Abasi held up his hands in surrender. “I was just being helpful.”

“Yeah, right.” Noah scowled at them all. Bunch of comedians.

He crossed the room to Annabelle, scooped her up, and cradled her against his chest. She fit perfectly and snuggled into him like a little cat.

“Noah?” she mumbled.

“Time for bed, Bella,” he murmured.

“I can walk,” she made a token protest as she continued to settle in, wrapping an arm around his neck.

Yeah, she totally wanted to walk. “Carrying you is faster.”

His team grinned as he left for the apartment upstairs. He was working with children. Easily amused children.

The loft was in darkness when he pushed through the door, although dim light seeped in from the streets outside, making it easy to see where he was going. Other than the low hum of distant traffic, the warehouse was peaceful. An oasis in the middle of the busy city—a well-fortified oasis with a team of armed security specialists stationed throughout the building.

Yeah, there was nothing normal about their situation. In fact, everything felt a little surreal, except for the woman in his arms. She felt real. Solid… soft, warm… precious. Noah wanted to wrap himself around her and protect her from every bad thing that came her way. He wanted to do everything within his power to ensure Annabelle Simmons had a beautiful life.

Damn it. He stumbled but quickly steadied himself.

He was falling in love with the client.

This wasn’t just the first bloom of attraction growing in the fallow field of grief. It was the beginning of something far more. The feeling was hard to mistake, and despite having experienced it only once before, he knew what it meant. He was invested. All in. There was no going back—not without ripping his heart in two.

Noah cast his eyes around the apartment, half expecting Therese to turn up with a smug smile and a flippant “I told you so.” But there was no sign of her. Noah wasn’t sure if he felt relief at her absence or sadness that she wasn’t there to share his epiphany. One of these days, he needed to let go of his imaginary friend and move on—just as she’d been telling him to do.

He elbowed the pressure panel on the wall that opened the door to the panic room and carried Annabelle inside. The door slid shut behind them as he gently placed her on the bed. She stirred, looking around, then relaxing when she realized where she was.

“I’d better get ready for bed.” Lazily, she swung her legs around under her and knelt up to look at him, suddenly far more awake than she’d led him to believe. “Are you sleeping here tonight?”

Damn, but she was pure temptation, all soft and sleepy, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed. It was impossible not to touch her. He ran his fingertips down her cheek. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her frown was adorable. “Why not?”

“Because we’re both exhausted, and if we lie down together, I’m not sure we’ll get any sleep.” Her eyes darkened as the tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. “Plus, I don’t think you’re ready for what will happen if we get into bed together.”

Her hands came up to cup his cheeks. “Noah,” she murmured, “don’t you think it’s a little arrogant to tell me what I think and feel? Wouldn’t it be better if you just asked me?” She cocked her head to one side. “Or perhaps you’re projecting your fears onto me. Maybe it’s you who isn’t ready for what will happen.”

Delight bubbled inside of Noah. “Oh, I don’t know, I feel pretty ready. But I’m also fighting the urge to mansplain why you aren’t.”

Laughter danced in her dark eyes. “How about we just skip the part where we believe we can read each other’s minds and ask instead? Noah”—she held his gaze—”I would very much like for you to come to bed with me. Naked would be best, don’t you think?”

It felt like there was an explosion inside of him. Blood rushed to the surface of his body, making his skin tingle and burn with the need to be touched.

He cupped the back of her head. “You’re sure?”

“You know, this good-guy thing only goes so far before it becomes annoying. Take off your clothes, Noah. I’m sure.”

Chuckling, he leaned in to press his lips to hers. He burned with wanting her. But it was more than that; he needed to be close to her. To connect. To know her in a way only he could know her.

Oh yeah, he was definitely falling fast.

Their kiss felt right. Like coming home. They teased each other slowly, in no rush to take things faster. He liked that about her. He liked that the journey was just as important as the destination, because he wanted to enjoy every step of the way.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips.

“You look like a bruiser, but I’ll take you,” Annabelle said with a smile in her voice.

He was chuckling when her fingers found the hem of his T-shirt and her hands slid under it. They caressed their way up his abs to his chest.

“Lemme see,” she demanded tugging at his shirt.

“No patience,” he teased and whipped the shirt off over his head.

Annabelle sat back on her heels, her mouth hanging open. “Oh my, those abs… You look like Batman’s suit,” she said in wonder.

Noah burst out laughing as he reached for her. They tumbled onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and laughter as they kissed, their hands exploring.

Annabelle tore her mouth from his, and he took a certain male satisfaction in seeing her swollen lips.

“What’s this?” She prodded his side, straining to see what she’d discovered.

Noah pushed up and held himself above her with locked arms. He glanced down his body to the spot just above the waistband of his jeans on his left side. “Knife wound.”

“Oh.” Her brow puckered with concern. “Poor baby.”

Adorable.

He angled his head to capture her mouth but sucked in a breath when he felt her hands on the fastening of his jeans. He backed off to kneel beside her.

“Too fast,” he said, feeling lightheaded. “We need to slow down. I don’t want to miss any stops on this journey.”

“Okay.” She knelt up to face him. “What’s the next step?”

“Well, I’d say that shirt of yours needs to come off.” He reached out and unfastened a button on her faded plaid shirt. Then another. And another. His eyes met hers. “You’re not wearing a bra.” His awe felt like that of a teenager. It would have been embarrassing if anyone had been there to witness his reaction.

Annabelle gasped. “I’m not?” She finished unbuttoning the shirt and stared down at her perfect breasts. “How did that happen?” Wicked, amused eyes met his. “I apologize for the oversight.”

“Just don’t let it happen again,” Noah said solemnly, cupping her breasts and flicking his thumbs over taut nipples.

“I’ll try not to.” She groaned as she leaned into him, seeking his mouth with hers. He gave it willingly.

His hands slid down her rounded stomach to the button on her jeans. He fumbled. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m out of practice. I’ll get better.”

“Noah.” She reached down to help him. “I’ve slept with two men. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience, but I remember the fundamentals. We’ll be fine.”

“Two is one more than my total,” he confessed.

“Men?” she grinned widely. “Noah Merchant, you dark horse.”

His cheeks heated. “You know what I mean. I’ve only ever slept with Therese.” He shook his head and admitted, “I’m kinda nervous.”

“Would it help if I gave instructions as we went?” She batted her lashes at him. “Maybe sketched some diagrams?”

“Smart-ass.” He leaned forward and nipped her bottom lip.

Her laughter made him feel as if he were floating. “Stop worrying. We know what we’re doing, and it will be fine.”

“I was aiming for a little better than fine,” he grumbled.

“Too much talk, not enough action.” She unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside.

The ability to speak immediately left Noah as her small hand wrapped around him. All he could do was groan.

“That’s more like it,” she said, leaning in to nibble at his throat.

Annabelle was giddy. She’d wanted Noah almost from the first moment she’d seen him, even though it’d been through a haze of self-medication. He had the rough, weary look of a battle-worn warrior. One who’d keep on fighting despite desperately needing to rest. Not physical rest, but emotional. Noah Merchant had carried far too much for far too long.

And all it’d taken to get his full attention was for her to shove her hand down his pants. Good to know. She smiled against the thick, muscled column of his neck. He was built to fight. There was nothing soft or pretty or choreographed about him. He wasn’t some self-obsessed actor playing the part of a defender. Noah’s instinct to use his body as a protective wall was hardwired into his DNA. You could sense it in every taut muscle and every ugly scar that marked him.

Annabelle toppled him onto his back and then scampered down his body, taking his clothes with her. Noah helped by kicking off his boots so she could slip his jeans over his feet. Now that she had him naked, she sat back on her heels and looked her fill. She was right. His character was written on his skin.

“So many scars.” She ran her fingertips over a recent one—a line where a bullet had cut a channel on the outside of his thigh.

He shrugged. “Never intended to take up modeling, anyway. You’re still wearing too many clothes. I don’t think that’s fair.”

“You’re right. And we’re all about the fairness.” Annabelle stood on the bed and stripped off her clothes without any fanfare. This wasn’t a seductive performance; she just wanted the damn things gone. At last, she stood naked, straddling his ankles, the cool air caressing her exposed skin.

His hungry and appreciative gaze ran the length of her body, lingering here and there with heady appreciation. “You’d really suit a belly button ring,” he said, surprising her. “Something in rose gold to bring out the warm tones in your satin skin.”

“Noah,” she breathed as his words wove images in her mind.

He flexed and sat up in one smooth motion, making his abs ripple and her mouth water. His hands clasped her hips as he nuzzled her rounded belly. Annabelle loved her curves; she’d never wanted a flat stomach—unless it came with a six-pack and a man attached.

“Right here.” Noah nibbled the spot just below her belly button. “Something I could tease with my tongue.”

Annabelle clasped his head, wishing his hair was much longer so she could anchor herself with fistfuls of it. “Go a bit lower,” she said huskily. “You might find something else you can tease with your tongue.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He kissed his way down her stomach until his wicked mouth found juicier prey.

Annabelle gasped and threw back her head as her whole world centered on the tiny motions he made with his tongue. Her knees would have given way, making her crash to the bed, but Noah’s hands tightened on her hips, keeping her in place.

“You could get a piercing here,” he said gruffly before his mouth had better things to do than talk.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. Oh! ” Sweet, agonizing tension coiled inside her as her thoughts became dancing sparkles she couldn’t quite grasp.

Noah pressed in closer. Devouring her.

She tried to say something, anything, but the words were unintelligible. Her body shook, her muscles clenched. Everything teetered on the brink of a precipice. Waiting. Ready. Eager to fall. To jump. To…

A loud, guttural gasp rent the air as primed nerves exploded in a cascade of sensation. She toppled. Weak. Delirious. Panting and desperate for more. Strong arms lowered her to the mattress before Noah angled himself over her limp, sated body.

“I think we’re okay,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Oh. My.

She wasn’t going to survive.