Free The Lies That Bind by Kate Carlisle Page B

arms.
    “It’s been a long night,” I said, and covered up a yawn.
    “And you’re tired.” He began to knead a pulse point at the junction of my shoulder and neck.
    “Yes. I’m exhausted and just want to . . . oh.” I was pressed up against him and he was doing miraculous things to my muscles. I would melt if he continued much longer.
    “We can go for a drink, or dinner,” he said.
    “Oh, well, I could eat something.” Thoughts of pizza returned and I smiled.
    “That’s my girl,” he whispered. He was well aware of my ability to eat heartily anytime, day or night.
    But was I really his girl? Did I want to be? After all, he didn’t call, he didn’t write, and he didn’t want to see me again. And yet, he was here, and so was I. I certainly didn’t want to be his port in the storm, but if he kept rubbing my neck like that, I would say yes to just about anything he asked.
    “Darling, I—” His cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket and he muttered, “Bloody hell.”
    I took the opportunity to step back, away from temptation. “Better answer it.”
    He stared at the screen, then looked at me, plainly conflicted. “I warned them not to call unless—”
    “Answer it,” I said again, then tried to move farther away to allow him some privacy. But he swung his arm around my shoulders and dragged me up against his solid chest.
    I could hear yelling on the other side of the call but couldn’t understand what the speaker was saying. Derek barely said a word but for a muttered expletive here and there. And with his clipped accent, even cursing sounded charming.
    “I’ll be there in ten,” he said, then clicked off the call.
    “New plan?” I said lightly.
    “Yes,” he said, “I must go kill Gunther Schnaubel.”
    “Hey, that’s okay,” I lied. “I should go feed my neighbors’ cats anyway.”
    He laughed. I liked the sound of it.
    I tried to convince myself that this was a good thing. I’d been seconds away from going to dinner with him. From there, I might’ve agreed to spend the night. Only a couple of hours ago, I’d been furious. Now I was ready to throw my panties in the wind, for heaven’s sake. Things were getting serious and complicated, fast. For me, anyway.
    I still didn’t understand his relationship with Layla and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. More important, I didn’t know what to expect by getting involved with him, if anything. And now I wouldn’t have the chance to talk to him about it. Not tonight, anyway.
    So it was just as well that he’d received that phone call. It would give me some space to think about things. I needed to figure out exactly what I was getting my very vulnerable heart into.
    He leaned his forehead against mine. “Tomorrow night, Brooklyn. I’ll be here. We’ll go to dinner and we’ll talk. And I promise you, there will be no more interruptions.”
    “Okay,” I whispered, grateful for the short respite. Twenty-four hours was plenty of time to think about stepping off a cliff, wasn’t it?

Chapter 6
    Wednesday night, I walked the periphery of the classroom. Earlier, my students had insisted on grilling me about why I happened to be wearing a cute dress when I normally wore jeans. I wasn’t about to tell them I had a date with the hottest secret agent in the Western Hemisphere, but they guessed anyway. Well, about the date part. Who would guess he was a secret agent? Well, he wasn’t really. Not anymore. Anyway, once my upcoming date was out in the open, I had to endure all their opinions and warnings and teasing. Then Alice mentioned that she’d seen my companion up close last night and oh, he was dreamy.
    Dreamy. Who said that anymore?
    Finally, though, they all settled down enough to concentrate on yet another of my fascinating lectures, this one on wood-block presses. I’d already given every student a small wood press to work with. The classroom had enough for everyone, thanks to Marky May, who had made them all himself.
    Marky’s presses