Ransom. Terri ReedЧитать онлайн книгу.
gaze on her but she held her chin up and wouldn’t let him see how his question affected her.
“We have a big day tomorrow,” he said. Apparently he got the hint and let the conversation die. “I’ll walk you back to your room. You really do need to rest.”
He was right, of course. She did need to rest to have the strength for what was to come. At her door she asked, “Where will you be sleeping?”
“I’ll be down the hall,” he said. “The other team members are right next door. You’ll meet Drew and Samantha in the morning.”
She put her hand on the doorknob but paused to ask, “Why are you doing this? I mean I know it’s your job, but...”
“I want Santini. He killed my friend and has evaded authorities for too long. I won’t rest until he’s behind bars for the rest of his life.”
She absorbed his words, understanding what drove him and appreciating that he’d shared his story with her. “I meant, letting me stay here? This seems above the call of duty.”
One corner of his mouth curved up with the barest hint of a smile before he tamed his lips back into a straight line. “I promised you I’d keep you safe. This is as safe as it gets.”
“Are you always so in control and contained?”
“That’s the rumor.” This time he did smile, revealing a dimple in his cheek.
Her breath stalled. He really was handsome, even more so when he smiled. That dimple was charming. She wondered what it would be like to have his charm turned fully on her. She placed a hand over her tummy to still the flutter of attraction that wanted to take flight. “Good night, Blake.”
“Good night, Liz.”
He walked away, disappearing into a room at the end of the hallway, leaving Liz alone with only her prayers for company.
No, that wasn’t exactly true. Blake would be right down the hall if she needed him.
She’d never had anyone be there for her. She was the one to take care of others, seeing to everyone else’s needs before her own. It was a part of her makeup, her genetic code, or at least that was what she’d been taught in her psychology classes in college. Those personality tests pegged her as a helper and a thinker, which stood to reason why it was so hard for her to let others help her. And why she overanalyzed everything.
Seeing to her safety was Blake’s job, she reasoned. He needed her to capture Santini. And she needed Blake to rescue her sister. They were helping each other.
A win, win.
But why did she have the sinking feeling that what they both wanted would come with a price?
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