Honey Trapped

Chapter Twenty-Nine

His hand flattened against her back, turning her to face him. "Only during sex. I'm sure you've figured out why that was by now."

The mention of sex had her body surging into high alert. Memories of his hands and mouth as they worked over her, his deep voice as he coaxed her into responding to him. They'd been so good in bed together. So good. Did he remember it the way she did, or had even that been for show?

An image of his strained expression as he hovered over her on their last night together floated in her mind. His tense features, his sorrowful eyes as he kissed her. The way he'd touched her, drawing out her responses until the very last moment when they'd finally left the bed to dress. As he'd put his clothes on, he'd stop to run his hand over her hair, her arm, her leg. When he was dressed, he'd sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight, pressing kisses to her face, temple, and head, all the while keeping his arms locked around her. And his words, "This is fucking breaking me," had been heartfelt and raw.

She'd been too shattered to respond to his words then. That night, at least, had been real. Right? Or had he been caught up in the moment, knowing what was coming?

"'This is fucking breaking me,'" she whispered.

The hand on her back moved to her hip. Somehow his expression managed to soften and darken at the same time. "It did break me, brat. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to hurt you. I loved you. I wanted to make things right, but I couldn't." His thumb stroked her hip. "Right woman, wrong time."

He remembered. And he wasn't shying away from it. His willingness to be so open with her was still a new experience with him. But reality crashed in as the elevator dinged and the door opened. Loved. Wanted. Past tense. Over.

Trying not to let her unease show, she moved away and into the elevator. Brogue followed but seemed to realize she needed space and moved to the opposite wall.

"Will you let me take you to your car?" Brogue wasn't looking at her, focusing instead on pressing the button that would lower them to the car park.

"Yes."

"Are you ready for that dinner yet?"

"No."

Brogue nodded, his countenance morphing into Agent Donati. His voice was no nonsense when he said, "You need to stop taking the train. I won't always be around to give you a ride this late." He gave her a frank look and instantly became Brogue again. "But you can always call me if you ever need a ride. I won't mind at all. Or you can call me just because you want to. I would like that."

***

Pria sat with an irritable Tony as she helped him with his malfunctioning computer. It was a losing battle. Pria was pretty sure it was the components that were the problem. Tony's laptop was a relic that should have been relegated to a paperweight long ago.

When Brogue walked in, her eyes widened. Williams, as always, was with him. The female agent looked disgruntled and held an ice pack to her cheek, clothing looking rumpled and disheveled. There was a blood stain on Williams white blouse.

Pria watched as Brogue escorted Williams to her desk and sat with her before addressing Tony. "A rough day at the office just took on a whole new meaning for me."

Tony glanced over, not overly concerned. "She'll be fine. Donati'll take care of her. The two of them are inseparable."

By now Pria was well aware of the fact. The office was full of jokes, but one of the prevalent ones was that Brogue and Williams were work-husband-and-wife.

Oddly enough, she didn't resent his relationship with Williams. In fact, Pria liked their relationship. Brogue and Williams had a tight bond which allowed Brogue to be his affectionate self. It gave Pria a glimpse into who he really was. Brogue, the man, was a caring person, and thoughtful. He took care of the people around him. In a lot of ways, Drew had been the same.