“But you’ll stil
l
keep the property.”
He nodded. He had to. “I’m glad I finally know the truth about my father.” Though with Bear gone, he would never know the why.
“I am so, so sorry about that.” She was close enough now to wrap her arms around him, and she did, holding him, her head on his chest, where it fit like his favorite thing to wear.
He glanced up at the house. “I’m glad I saw this place again. It’ll be easier to tear it down knowing what bad shape it’s in.”
She looked into his eyes. “When did you decide to do that?”
“Just this morning. It seemed to fit. Putting an end to the past. Starting over.”
“Then you’re ready to get back to work?” She paused, letting her fingers walk up his spine. “Or does that not mesh with the starting-over thing?”
He remained silent, enjoying the feel of her fingers on his back, her breasts flat against his chest, her hips in the cradle of his. He was used to this already, used to having her at arm’s length when he reached for her, used to her making him think with the way she prodded and questioned, nudged and provoked.
He was already used to her making him happy, to thinking of her as his own. “I’m going back, yeah, but I’m not in a big hurry.”
“Understanding boss.”
He’d like her to meet Hank, and one day the rest of the guys. But they could wait. He wasn’t ready to share her. “He’s the best.”
“You’ve never thought of changing careers?”
He’d been in the service of his country under Uncle Sam’s eye for twelve years, in the service of its people in one way or another since. He’d never thought of doing anything else. Anything safer. Something that would keep the woman in his life from worrying about him.
That didn’t keep him from asking, “You got something in mind?”
“Actually, I do.” She backed out of his embrace, walked in a circle around him. “Ferrer is introducing a new male fragrance next year. Trieste. We’re just now beginning to work on the ad campaign. That’s actually why I want Lisa in New York. She’s advertising brilliant; don’t ask me what she was doing down here in the swamp.”
“Uh, making a life with her husband?” Simon reminded her, feeling as if he were being sized up like a porterhouse.
“Besides that.” Micky easily waved him off. “Anyway, she could have commuted. Or telecommuted at least. If she’d been busy working for me, she wouldn’t have had time to get involved in the Landrys’ genealogy—”
“And Bear would have gotten away with my father’s murder.”
She stopped, stared at him. “Then you admit that good can come out of dangerous situations.”
“It usually does,” he agreed, having brought down enough bad guys to know.
“And being in life-or-death situations doesn’t always mean innocent people die or get hurt.”
He saw what she was trying to do, where she was going—which was okay since he’d already done a bit of working it out for himself. “Not always, no. But it can happen. It happened to you.”
“I didn’t even know I was in a dangerous situation, and I got through it anyway. A few bumps and dings, but basically unharmed.”
“Yes, but you were lucky.”
“I was also resourceful. I know how to take care of myself. I just want to make sure you know that.”
“I know it.”
“Good, so then you can do some test shots, see how you look on film and in pixels, and if that doesn’t pan out and you have to go back to your life as a spy—since I’m assuming that’s pretty close to what you are—at least we won’t have to worry about us.”
“Us?”
“Yes,” she said, emphatically adding, “Us. I called Jane from the hospital. She’s looking for an apartment for me. I told her to start on the Lower East Side.”
Ah, what she did to his heart. “You don’t belong there.”
“But you’re there. And that’s where I want to be.”
“I can afford to move. I just stay there for the flavor.”
She tilted her head and considered him slyly. “You wouldn’t miss the billboard?”
“You won’t be there forever. I’d rather have the real you.”
“I can get you a print so you’ll have me to talk to when I’m gone.”
“We haven’t even picked out china and you’re leaving me already?”
“Traveling gone. Not leaving-you gone. Unless you can get time away to come with me.”
“I’ve seen a lot of the world already. I like the idea of staying home.”
“You haven’t seen it with me. And I’m a lot more fun to be with than your Buffy DVDs.”
“What’s up with everyone disrespecting my girl Buffy?” he asked, though he had to admit he was liking this sassy Michelina, the business tycoon, the go-getter. He could imagine having her boss him around in bed. He could imagine liking it. What he couldn’t imagine was letting her go.
“Here’s the thing,
cher
,” she said, and his heart began to pound, his body to tighten. “I want to be your girl.”
“And you want me to be…your bodyguard?”
“Yes. And my confidant, my best friend, my lover. My man.”
It was time for sharing what he had on his mind. “Are you set on catching your plane?”
She shook her head. “Not really. At least not today.”
He slapped the truck’s front quarter panel. “How about a road trip? Camping out. Sleeping under the stars. Showering outside. Naked.”
“You know I’ll have to give up the nature girl act once we’re home.”
“In public, sure. But in private? The nature-y-er the better.” He opened his door. “How do you feel about getting naked in my truck?”
“Now?”
“The sooner the better.”
His pants were around his hips, hers around her ankles, and he was inside her before either of them could breathe.
“Is this going to be happening a lot during the trip?”
“It had damn well better,
chère
. It had damn well better.”