A Match for Celia

“I know he isn’t average and ordinary,” Celia retorted heatedly. “That’s one of the things I like most about him!”

Reed exhaled in frustration. “Look, I know this is none of my business—”

“You’re right,” she cut in flatly. “It isn’t. Damien is my friend, Reed. I like him. And I don’t think it’s right of you to put him down when he isn’t here to defend himself—especially when you’re driving his car!”

That effectively silenced him. Reed tightened his hands on the steering wheel and stared grimly at the road ahead. The road to Damien Alexander’s resort.

After a few minutes, Celia reached out to touch Reed’s arm, startling him. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you’re only concerned about me—the same way my family is, I suppose. But you should all realize that I’m old enough to know what I’m doing, and to take care of myself. I’m not under any delusions about Damien. I know exactly what he is, but I like him. He’s my friend. Okay?”

“I’m sorry I interfered,” Reed answered stiffly.

“Don’t sulk, Reed. You’re my friend, too, and we’ve had such a lovely day. Don’t spoil it, please.”

He sighed and patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “Sorry. I won’t say any more about it.”

“I appreciate it. I have enough mother hens watching out for me, Reed. I really don’t need another one.”

It was the first time in his life Reed had been called a “mother hen.” And he found that he hated it.

There was nothing familial about his growing feelings for Celia. Nothing rational, or cautious, or calculated. He wanted her, regardless of whether or not she’d been sleeping with Damien Alexander. He was even losing interest in how deeply she might have been involved with the arrangements for the weapons sale. Trying to find excuses for her—her youth, her naïveté, her vulnerability.

That was the sort of thinking that had gotten friends killed. The kind that could get him killed if he didn’t stop it.

He shot a sideways look at Celia. She had laid her head back on the seat and was looking pensively out the wind-shield. She looked tired. A little sad. Sweet.

You’re an idiot, Hollander. A thick-skulled, hormone-driven, prize-winning idiot. And if Kyle knew about this, you’d never hear the end of it.

The thought of his cynical, blunt-spoken partner made him look sharply forward again. He spent the remainder of the drive reminding himself that he had a job to do. When it ended, he would never see Celia Carson again. He would do well to keep that in mind.

Celia was asleep by the time they reached the resort, had been for almost an hour. Reed roused her gently, then half led, half carried her to her door. She gave him a sleepy smile as he slipped the key into the lock. “I had a very nice time today, Reed,” she murmured, sounding like a schoolgirl coming home from a movie date. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He pushed the door open and nudged her through. He shot a quick look around the sitting room, taking in the quiet elegance. Alexander provided very well for his special guests, he couldn’t help thinking grimly.

Celia stood in the center of the luxurious room, swaying a bit on her feet. “It’s very late, isn’t it?”

“Very. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Will you be having breakfast?”

“Probably.”

“Maybe I’ll sleep late,” she said around a yawn.

He smiled. “Sounds like a good idea.”

“What about you? Aren’t you tired?”

“Like I said, I don’t need much sleep.” He tilted her chin up with one hand and studied her lightly flushed, heavy-eyed face. “Good night, Celia. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Reed.” She smiled up at him, trustingly.

Too trustingly.

Deciding he was getting rather tired of being treated like a big brother, Reed bent his head and deliberately covered her mouth with his own.

Celia hesitated only a moment before responding. Her lips moved tentatively beneath his, and then with growing confidence. He deepened the kiss, allowing himself one lingering, appreciative taste of her before he finally, slowly drew away. “Good night,” he repeated, hearing his own huskiness.

And then he left quickly, while he still could.