His father had come out to pick his mom up, and he’d met Vanessa. His father’s big booming presence had lightened the mood briefly, but the gloom had come roaring back after everyone had gone and he and Vanessa had been left alone for the first time since the world exploded.
She hadn’t said a word to him, merely turned and walked into the guest room.
He hadn’t been able to tell her how proud he’d been of the way she’d handled herself today, hadn’t told her how angry he’d been at the way she was treated, how he’d wanted to kill the woman who’d hurt her.
The person he wanted to murder was Junior. That fucker had done some serious damage. Michael had caught the late news, and Vanessa had been all over it.
He walked out on the balcony. He couldn’t stay in his own fucking room because now the bed was too big without her in it. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing her face and how hurt she’d been.
His gut had been in a never-ending roll, and he wasn’t sure how he would face her in the morning.
He stepped outside, cool night air brushing over his skin. He’d bought this place already furnished. The big wrought-iron couch and firepit had been here along with the grill and outdoor kitchen.
He’d probably been out here a handful of times over the years until Vanessa had started staying with him. She liked to sit out here and drink coffee in the mornings, letting the sun warm her face.
She likely wouldn’t sit out here with him again.
“Can’t sleep?”
He turned and she was curled up on the sofa, her feet tucked underneath her. She’d changed into pajama pants and a tank top, a robe around her body. Her hair was loose, and she’d scrubbed her face clean.
She was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.
“No. I can’t, but I’ll leave you be,” he said, turning to go.
“I wish you wouldn’t. Alone isn’t working for me tonight.”
He stopped and made his way around the sofa. Hope lit inside him. If she was willing to be around him, maybe they could get through this. “Do you want to talk?”
“Not really. I talked enough.”
She’d taken over with the publicist, and when that meeting had finished, she’d spent some time with MaeBe going over her investigation. She’d been polite, but there was a coldness that had settled between them. “Well, I didn’t. I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am.”
“You did.” She turned back to stare off into the distance. “Several times.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t know what to believe. And honestly, it doesn’t matter.”
He hated how cold she sounded. Vanessa was always warm. “It does. It matters so fucking much to me. Vanessa, you have to know that I never meant to hurt you.”
“Why would I have to know that?” She turned to him, one brow cocked over her eyes.
It was the first spark of emotion he’d seen in her since she’d been arrested. “Because I think I’ve made it plain how I feel about you.”
“You’ve made it plain that you don’t mind sleeping with someone you’re actively investigating, and you planned to do it. You planned to get intimate with me before you’d ever met me.”
That hadn’t been the way it had gone. “I knew it was a possibility, but I didn’t set out to get you in bed. The training relationship was in place so I could get close to you. I never had to sleep with you.”
“And yet you got your hand down my panties within an hour of meeting me.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I did. I did it because I couldn’t help myself. I did it because the minute you walked in the door I wanted you.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that from a man? I wanted you the moment I saw you.”
How could he make her understand? “I did. I’ll be honest—the whole Hollywood star thing didn’t do it for me. I wasn’t attracted to your image. I was attracted to Vanessa Jones. Not Vanessa Hale.”
She pointed his way like he’d made her point. “Yes, you made it clear you barely knew who Vanessa Hale was. That was a lie. You knew all about me. You had your opinions. Did you think it might be fun to bring me down a notch or two?”
“No. I didn’t.” But hadn’t he? He’d promised not to lie to her again. “I don’t know. When I was first handed the assignment, I was in a bad place. My engagement had ended, and it felt like I was going to be that guy who never got his shit together. I had pretty much decided I wasn’t capable of truly loving a woman. So yeah, the thought of spending time with someone who was known for being mercenary was a little thrill. I wouldn’t have to look at you and wonder why I couldn’t feel for you, why my soul didn’t move. I thought I could probably have sex with you and not worry for a second that I would hurt you because you couldn’t be hurt. And I was so fucking wrong.”