Deep (The Deep Duet 1)

ORUS? What the hell was ORUS? But she was too distracted by what Rafe was doing to dig down that rabbit hole. Through the crack in the door, she watched as he walked to the far wall and then gently pressed part of the painting.

Holy shit.

She’d been trying to see behind the damn thing. There’d been no buttons on the sides or hidden in the frame. She hadn’t thought to actually physically touch the painting. When the painting slid up, it revealed a complicated-looking safe. It looked like the kind of thing that drug dealers in movies kept their cash in.

So if I were an assassin, what would I keep hidden away?

The possibilities were endless. Endlessly terrifying. Her mind helpfully conjured up images of monsters from movies and fiction. Everyone from Dexter to Corleone to Escobar. For all she knew, he was some insane version of all three. There could be a horse’s head and cocaine in there.

Which is why you need to be sure.

Clearly, with that kind of security measure, he didn’t want anyone accessing whatever it was. And that was precisely why she needed access to whatever the hell was in there. She was no safe expert, but when she was preparing for this little walk on the get-her-ass-killed side, she’d asked Charisse to contact her brother, who was some kind of computer expert. He’d reached out to some contract technical geniuses. For a hefty price, they’d found her an encryption device that could crack most security panels and safe keys. All that was needed was time—lots and lots of time. But maybe she’d get lucky. At least she knew where the safe was now. All she had to do was go get the decoder from Charisse’s.

As Rafe wrapped up his conversation, she tiptoed back down the hall. Then once she hit the living room, she catapulted herself over the couch. The man was huge, but he moved quick. She didn’t want to be up and about, giving him a reason to be suspicious.

You mean like he already is? Those little innocuous questions, the gentle probing—he knew something was up. Or suspected she wasn’t being truthful. Either way, she needed to watch her step or she was going to end up like her father.

Good thing she had moved quickly too, because less than a minute later, Rafe was back in the living room.

His voice was a low, amused rumble. “There you are. Looking for something to watch?”

“No, not really. All that’s on are crappy reality shows. And let me tell you, the Kardashians aren’t so interesting that I need to keep up with them in reruns too. I have my credit cards, so it’s probably time to head to the bookstore. I’ll need a permanent address to get a library card.”

He frowned. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“Rafe, you’ve already been generous enough. You’ve given me everything. I’m not one of those women who needs someone to take care of her. At least not before—” She deliberately cut herself off and didn’t reveal too much. “I can stand on my own two feet.”

“No one’s saying you can’t. I’m just saying if you want to get some books, we can make that happen.”

“Thank you. I—” She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, tucking them under her chin. “I’m really grateful. I’m fumbling the gratitude, I know. I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t come along. Things probably would have turned out much, much worse.”

Diana watched him warily. Did he suspect? Did he believe her? The man was like the sphinx, so goddamn difficult to read. Well, that’s what happens when you get in the den with killers. They were really good at lying. And they made excellent hunters. Right now, she didn’t know if she was the hunter or the hunted.

He cocked his head. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded. “It is. Thanks to you, I now have everything I need.” And she did. As soon as he was at Blake Security, she was getting into that safe. Thanks to letting her vajayjay do the thinking, she’d lost sight of who she was and what she’d come to do.

She’d been distracted by his tongue and his fingers, and well, all that. Getting that close to him had been a mistake. But she was going to remedy that.

She knew where the safe was now. And it was just the reminder that she needed that Rafe DeMarco was a killer, not someone she could make into her boyfriend. “Everything is exactly as it should be.”

Rafe watched Diana as she pushed her hips back and up into downward dog.

Damn. Way to get a rise out of him. He’d just showered after his conversation with Noah, but he was so down for another shower. “You know, you could have worked out with me.”

She laughed. “Uh, how do you think that would have turned out?” she asked him as she pushed her hips back again.

Oh fuck. His cock pressed against the fly of his jeans as if hearing his call to arms. “Well, I have one or two ideas.”

“I’m sure you do. I actually wanted to get some yoga in. If I’d gone with you, you would have had your hands on my ass, and neither of us would have gotten a workout.”

He grinned. “Oh, we’d have gotten a workout all right. And you would have been just as relaxed as with yoga.”

She snorted and fluidly switched into triangle pose. “I’m trying to concentrate here. You’re distracting me.”

He chuckled. “Not yet, but that can be arranged. How do you feel about naked yoga?”

She slid him some serious side-eye. She was clearly teasing, but there was some tension to her posture. Something was off. She’d been fine before he left for the gym. Was she really fine? Had that asshole contacted her?