White strolled to the door, paused and looked back at Darcy. “Hope that bandaged butt of yours starts feeling better soon, Sugartits.”
Out in the hall, Claire fought to stifle her chuckle. She lost. It bubbled out of her before she could cover her mouth.
A hand flung the video room door the rest of the way open. Hank glowered at her from inside the doorway.
Oh, crap.
She’d survived the psycho in the next room, but now her own brother looked as if he were going to kill her. She held out his coffee mug like a peace offering.
“Coffee?” Her cheeks ached from her smile’s fake sugary goodness.
“You need to go home. Now.”
Hank’s hand pushed against the small of her back as he forced her down the hall.
“Hank, just let me talk to him. He’ll talk to me, I know it.”
The vein in his neck went into overdrive, pulsating like a jackhammer. He’d clamped his jaw down so hard, she worried he’d break a tooth.
“No.” The single word from Hank came out low and slow.
She scrambled for another option to find out why Darcy had killed his own daughter. Was there really access to three million dollars out there somewhere on a flash drive? “How about the interview video? Can I watch it? I could point out and similarities between how he talks now and during the phone calls he made to me.”
Hank opened the door to his glass-encased office and grabbed his empty mug from her hand before walking inside and barring her from following him. “No.”
“What if—”
“For the last time, no! You are not sitting in on the interview. And no, you can’t watch the video of it. Now go home.” Hank slammed the door in her face.
She wanted more information. She needed her pound of flesh. Riled up and ready to continue the argument, she grabbed the doorknob.
“Get away from my door or I’ll arrest you for being a pain in the ass.” Hank’s muffled words made her jump sky high.
She spotted him glaring at her through his office window. The stern look on his face and the stubborn set to his jaw showed he meant business. She stomped her foot in frustration.
“That’s not a real charge, Hank. Let me in.”
He yanked the blinds closed.
Exasperated, Claire kicked at the blue plastic recycle bin next to Hank’s door. She missed. Her sandal flew off her foot and sailed down the hallway.
Perfect. Just perfect.
She clomped over to her shoe, the slick floor cool against her one bare foot.
/> “You know that could be considered attempted destruction of government property.” A touch of deadpan humor lightened Jake’s words.
She froze with her sandal in one hand, bare foot angled up toward her knee. Warmth flowed through her, wrapped around her shoulders and melted her irritation. Her skin tingled and her fingers ached to touch him.
Bodyguard with benefits. What had she been thinking? There was no way she could ever touch this man again and keep her heart. Hell, she could barely be in the same room with him without wanting to throw herself into his arms.
She’d only known him for a few days. He lived hundreds of miles away. They were both too headstrong to function together as a couple. In her experience with men, the thrill wore off quickly. They got bored. They cheated. She couldn’t go through that again. To protect herself, she had to walk away.
Half heartbroken already, Claire turned. Her resolve wavered at the sight of him. His hair spiked up in all directions as if he’d spent the last hour running his fingers through it. He’d missed a button on his shirt when he’d hastily gotten dressed earlier. Had it only been a few hours ago that they’d been on their way to buy condoms? Heat blasted up her body at the memory.
That damn smirk tugged at the right side of his mouth. “He locked me out too.” He stood at the end of the hallway, two steaming cups in his hands. “Coffee?”
Her stomach lurched. She’d downed too much already. Any more of that cheap, bitter brew and she’d spew. Not the lasting impression she wanted to leave him with as he walked out of her life. “I’m good. Thanks.”