Chapter Eighteen

Kellan opened the door to his apartment and followed Annabelle inside. It was the first time she was seeing where she’d be staying. After they arrived this morning, he took her on a tour of the compound and then showed her to her new workspace. Her day had been packed from there. He’d finally managed to drag her away from her office when, unbeknownst to him, his bosses had arranged a welcome party for her, complete with tons of pizza and beer. Every agent not on assignment and their families were present to greet her. He’d watched her interact with his friends and it was as if she’d been a part of their lives forever.

Several times during the evening, he’d hear her laugh and turn to watch her. Mason Rossi and Sawyer Oldham, the two men he’d spent the last few weeks with working side by side, noticed. They’d sandwiched him and grilled him like a hamburger patty, coercing him into admitting his feelings.

“That was fast,” Mason remarked. “You haven’t known her long.”

“You knew Cassidy was the one when she almost plowed you over on the sidewalk.”

Mason smiled unabashedly. “Yeah, I did.”

Sawyer was sniggering but stopped when Kellan turned to him. “And you—the story I heard was something about Harlow in a red bikini and you following her around like a puppy starved for attention.”

Sawyer stood straighter. “Hey, I wasn’t following her around. Her sister had been kidnapped, for hell’s sake. I was doing my job.”

“I don’t hear you denying falling for her the moment you met her.”

Sawyer slapped him on the back. “Got me there.”

Annabelle laughed and they all watched her smiling at something Kai was saying to her. Judging from his animated arms, it was quite a story.

“Is she out of danger?” Sawyer asked, all joking aside.

“Not until her stepbrother is caught.” And they didn’t know the intentions of the man called The Viper, either. He could pull a Bixby and decide to use Annabelle to get back at Robbie.

While she’d been filling her calendar with jobs, he’d met with his bosses to figure out how to track the two men down. They also conference-called their lawyers to put them on the will situation in California, see if there were steps that could be taken to speed the process along.

“This is nice,” Annabelle said, snapping him back to the present.

“None of my doing,” he admitted. “It pretty much came this way.” The apartments were contemporary with stylish furnishings, fireplaces and balconies. He noticed her checking out the open door of the bedroom. “Annabelle, I wanted you to stay with me because I’m still on the job. I don’t want to be too far away from you, even though you’re safe here inside the compound. If you’d rather have an apartment to yourself, that can be arranged. Otherwise, I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Her brows puckered as she glanced at the oversized sofa that would easily hold his six-four frame. “So, you’re saying you sleep out here and I sleep in the bed?” He nodded. “What if I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa?”

“I can make do on the floor.”

“How about you quit pretending to misunderstand me and kiss me instead?”

His smile was wicked. “That, I can do.” Then she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

#

Kellan slipped out of bed early and grabbed his workout clothes. He’d have to be careful not to irritate the stitches, but he was itching to get back to the gym.

Annabelle lifted her head and squinted, her hair an adorable bird’s nest around her face. She wasn’t a delicate sleeper. “Kellan?”

“Here, babe. I’m headed to the gym. Go back to sleep.” He leaned down and kissed her soft lips. Though still visible, the bruising around her eye had faded significantly. Didn’t lessen his feelings of wanting to dig up Bixby’s rotting corpse and kill him all over again.

She rolled to her back and latched her hands behind his neck, tugging him down on top of her. The fact that she was naked didn’t go unnoticed.

He groaned and fused his lips to hers. You’d think after three times again last night, he’d be sated, but he felt the opposite. He couldn’t get enough of her. He felt seventeen again. He kissed a path across her uninjured cheek and licked the spot on her neck that made her shiver.

“Umm,” she hummed, her fingers sifting through his hair. “Will you take me with you?”

“I’d take you anywhere,” he murmured before realizing she meant to work out. Hell, it didn’t matter. If she asked him to take her to Mars, he’d call up that dude who built that retro-looking rocket specifically for transporting people into space and book a seat on the first flight.

If he didn’t stop kissing her, they’d never leave the bed. He didn’t want her to be gossip fodder…not that his coworkers would do that. Still, her absence would be noticed. His, not so much since he was on injured reserve. Levering himself off her, he looked down at her perfect body and all thoughts of doing the right thing fled out the window. He was just about to leap on her like a linebacker tackling a quarterback—only gentler—when she shot out of bed and stiff-armed him out of the way.

“Just let me use the bathroom and I’ll be ready to go.”

He dropped to the mattress with a sigh. It was his fault, really. If he’d woken her with soft kisses and tender caresses, they’d be having sex right now. But he’d wanted to let her sleep after their nocturnal activities. Lesson learned for tomorrow morning.

“Ready.”

He looked up to see she’d fastened her long blond hair into a ponytail, and dressed in a perfectly acceptable outfit of a royal blue workout tank and black shorts, but he had the irrational urge to cover her with a baggy t-shirt. He didn’t want anyone else to see the way the material hugged her perfect curves. Call him a caveman, but there you had it. Some of the other women wore much less. Kayla Hepburn’s typical attire was a sports bra and spandex pants. And yes, he looked and appreciated, but he didn’t want anyone looking or appreciating Annabelle but him.

“What’s wrong?” At her question, he realized he’d been scowling. “Is this not okay to wear?”

“No. Yes. Hell.” He wiped a hand down his face and stood. She looked so sweet and he hated that he’d put that look of vulnerability on her face. He cupped her cheeks. “You look amazing, Annabelle. You always look amazing.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I just don’t want anyone else looking at you.”

He could tell that pleased her. “Right back at you.” Then her hand strayed to the wound on his hip. “Are you sure you should be working out yet? You still have stitches.”

“Babe, you’ve given me more of a workout the last two nights than anything I could do at the gym and the stitches held.”

She blushed prettily and he couldn’t help but kiss her again. This was bad. This was so bad. He was falling for her. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he’d admit that he already had fallen.

#

The gym was buzzing with activity, even at the early hour. He’d given Annabelle a quick tour yesterday, showing her the plethora of choices including a wide variety of cardio equipment and weight machines. If she preferred to walk or run, there was a multi-level suspended track overhead that spanned the building. The design was unique in that you could choose a flatter course or one with inclines that took you up another level and back down several times for a more realistic outdoor cardio experience. Whichever path you chose, there were both right and left turns instead of the standard oval running track shape, and it was wide enough that you could run side by side with a partner and still have enough room for someone to pass.

There was a boxing ring, an obstacle course, and a climbing wall that rose all the way to the lofty ceiling. There were rooms that were used for martial arts and hand-to-hand combat training and for classes if someone wanted to teach yoga or Pilates or step classes. Talia Cohen’s yoga classes were extremely popular. The pool was Olympic-sized and featured a diving well. The facility was climate controlled with TV’s all around and music playing, usually Dante Costa’s choice. If you wanted to listen to something else, you could bring your iPod or use headphones provided that were tuned to the televisions. Vending machines placed around dispersed ice-cold bottles of water. It was trendy and designer and better than any gym he’d ever used. Hell, at one precinct, the workout room consisted of a concrete block cave that sported mismatched sets of free weights, a universal machine with several missing parts, and an ancient treadmill that only went two speeds: turtle or fall-off-and-break-your-neck.

“I think I’ll go for a run on the track,” she decided. She’d been in awe of the twisting overhead path as soon as she walked in the building yesterday. Running was out for him, so he chose a stationary bike. He’d give it a couple of days before he started lifting again.

As he pedaled a slow warm-up, he followed her progression around the course, pleased to note she’d chosen the more difficult path. He lost sight of her when the track disappeared behind the climbing wall.

“Hey, Kellan.”

He’d been so engrossed watching her, he didn’t realize someone had claimed the bike beside him. He nodded to the other man. “Hi, Gabe.”

Gabe followed his gaze. “I met Annabelle yesterday. She stopped by the arena.”

As soon as Kellan told her about the canine training facility, she’d wanted to volunteer her time with the dogs to assuage her guilt over her stepbrother’s nefarious activities. He enjoyed watching Quinn and the others train the dogs as well.

“She’s incredible,” Gabe continued. “How long have you two been together?”

Kellan’s eyes narrowed at the other man, but Gabe was too busy tracking Annabelle to notice. “A while,” was all he said. Maybe he knew Annabelle had hired the company, maybe not. No way would he correct his assumption that they were a couple…mostly because it was true.

“You’re a lucky man.”

“Um,” was all he said. He didn’t like the way the man watched Annabelle—was still watching her. He was just about to tell him to keep his eyes to himself when Gabe swung off the bike.

“I could use a spotter if you’re available. I need to improve my numbers so I can pass Dante’s test. I’m ready to be a full-fledged agent.”

It wasn’t wise for Gabe to ask him to spot, he might accidentally on purpose drop the weights on the other guy’s chest. It would almost be worth ripping a few stitches, but sanity prevailed. “Sorry, I can’t.” He lifted his shirt to expose the bandage over his exit wound and the bruising on his chest. “I’m on the disabled list.”

Gabe winced in sympathy. “Looks like that hurt. No prob. I’ll find someone else.” He wiped a towel across his face, for what reason, Kellan had no idea. He hadn’t pedaled hard enough to break a sweat.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kellan’s foot slid off the pedal and he grabbed the handlebars to hang on. “Sheesh, Amelia, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Good. You disobeyed doctor’s orders.” She slapped him on the back. “You weren’t approved for physical activity. Get off and follow me. I want to check your injuries.”

Feeling duly chastised, he stopped the bike, mopped his face with a towel since he had been pedaling hard enough to work up a sweat and then wiped down the bike. He tossed the towel in one of the bins placed around the gym and wondered what Amelia would say if he told her that he’d engaged in far more strenuous activity the last couple of nights. Deciding to keep his active sex life to himself, he entered the rooms she used to diagnose and treat injuries and removed his shirt. Amelia followed him inside and closed the door. She ripped the bandage off his entry wound and her fingers probed the area. “Those aren’t my stitches.” She turned him around, her eyes narrowing at the deep purple bruise on his chest. “What the hell is that?”

“My vest caught a bullet. No damage done.”

“I checked in with Ethan. Why didn’t he tell me about it?”

“Probably because he’s sporting a matching bruise.”

Her mouth tightened and she ripped off the other bandage, none too gently. “I’m guessing you got out of bed well before I told you could, were shot again and split open both sets of stitches. This is Ethan’s work, no?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You guys are going to be the death of me.” She shook her head. “He did a pretty good job. It’s healing nicely. They can come out in a couple of days.”

“The sooner the better. I need to start lifting again.”

She glared at him. “Don’t push it.”

After she applied antiseptic cream on the wounds and rebandaged them, he tugged his shirt back on. “Am I free to go?”

“Yes, but don’t cross me again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She followed him out the door and bellowed, “Ethan Addison,” so loud, Kellan slapped a hand over his ear and cringed.

Ethan dropped the loaded barbell he’d been ready to push press overhead and spun around, a comical look of fear on his face. Kellan’s laugh died in his throat. Annabelle was standing with her legs braced, free weights in her hands. Gabe was standing behind her—much too close—correcting her form. Kellan saw red. “Get your needle and thread ready,” he muttered to the doctor, not sure if the stitches she’d need to sew would be his or Kline’s. Someone said something to him, he had no idea who or what. He was laser-focused on his target, moving so fast people darted out of his path like skiers avoiding an avalanche.

Annabelle glanced up and saw him. All the rage fled at the pure happiness in her expression. “There you are. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”

He didn’t stop until his hands slid on either side of her face and he kissed her, absorbing her surprised gasp. When he managed to tear his mouth away, she blinked up at him. “What was that for?”

“You look sexy all sweaty,” he said. When he looked up, Kline was nowhere in sight.

Smart man.