“Do you remember what happened next?”
“I’ll never forget. The windshield shattered, and we were going down. The lights dimmed, then went out as we continued to sink.”
“What next?”
“I woke up on the surface, and my crew was gone.” Nick was finished. He couldn’t take any more of this. He hung his head and fought the emotional pain that was pulling him under as harshly as the sea had.
“I think that’s good for now, Nick,” Paul said.
Nick didn’t have anything left. Paul and Brandon thanked him, gathered their notes, and left the house. Nick wearily walked to his den where he went straight to the bottle of bourbon he had at his corner bar. He might not have been drinking on shift, but he was sure as hell going to drink now.
He poured himself a double and downed it before refilling the crystal glass. He was on his third when he heard movement in the room. His emotions were raw, and he was too bitter to be with anyone, but as Chloe stepped forward, he found himself nearly dropping to his knees in his need for her to come to him.
Their eyes locked together, and Nick found himself even more lost than he had been before. She was either going to be his undoing, or she was going to be the one to help him lift up the pieces of his broken life. He really wasn’t sure which direction the two of them were headed. He closed his eyes, unable to watch as she made her decision.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chloe stood frozen in the doorway to the den as she watched Nick falling apart. She’d been listening as he’d spoken to the two men. Confusion swirled within her. Was he truly that good of an actor or was he innocent?
Everything she’d been told had made her believe he was the reason that helicopter had gone down―was the reason her brother had died, his body never recovered. She’d had a plan when coming to Nick’s place. Her excuse for getting in had been to help him recover, but she’d been wanting to catch him in his lies.
Now, she wasn’t so sure. Pain filled her at the loss of her brother, but what if it truly had been an accident? What if Nick was innocent? She just didn’t know anymore. Could a man fake the pain he was obviously going through as he stood there nearly shaking at what he’d just had to relive?
He’d been so emphatic when talking with his friend. If she were on a jury, she would have a hard time not believing him. Chloe wasn’t sure what was the truth and what the lies were anymore.
She found herself stepping closer to him, knowing full well she didn’t have all the answers. But she knew that no matter what happened, she took her job seriously. Even though her objective all along had been to find something to incriminate him, she had still planned on healing his injury. She wouldn’t risk her job. She’d told herself she wanted him healthy when he went to prison. But it went beyond that.
She’d been hating herself for feeling so attracted to him. But if he truly was innocent, then the unusually strong emotions she’d been dealing with weren’t so wrong. She wished she weren’t as confused as she was. She should retreat, but Chloe found herself moving closer to him instead.
“Are you okay, Nick?” She was surprised by the question. What she should do is run for the hills, or the ocean, or anywhere but closer to him. She should let him have his pity party―whether it was deserved or not. But instead she was moving closer still. She couldn’t seem to stop her forward momentum.
“No.” The one word was almost curt. His eyes flashed open, and the look he gave her sent a shudder through her. She wasn’t sure if it was fear or desire―maybe a little bit of both. One thing she knew was that she should get the hell out of there . . . and do it fast.
“I’m sorry. I should leave you alone then,” she said.
Chloe hadn’t ever been hunting. Her family hadn’t done it either, but she imagined as she looked at Nick, and the light he got in his eyes, that it was the same look any predator had when it spied its prey. She took another step back.
“We have some unfinished business, doc,” he said, his tone changing abruptly. He moved toward her.
She slowly began backing away, her eyes shifting to the door, wondering at her chances of escape. He was moving quicker these days, but she might still be able to get the jump on him. With that look in his eyes, she wasn’t so sure, though.
“You know what, we’re both pretty tired. I think any, uh . . . business we might have would best be discussed in the morning.” She took another step back. He slammed down the remainder of his alcohol and took another step toward her.
“Aren’t you the one always saying that things shouldn’t be put off, that you have to tough it out even if you don’t want to?” he pointed out. His words made her eyes narrow at him.
He was so calm, but the light in his eyes was agitated. She knew when to stay and fight and when to retreat, and at this moment, it was best to call it a day before the tidal wave hit. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was ogling her body, taking extra time on her breasts, her hips, the crease between her legs. She felt as if she were standing there completely naked. She didn’t like the feeling.
Her legs clenched together as heat flooded her. She should hate this man, not be turned on by him, especially by nothing more than a look. But that look reminded her of what had happened only a few hours before, of how it had felt to have him standing between her thighs while his mouth did wicked things against her skin.
“I heard some of what you were talking about earlier,” she told him. His gaze narrowed a bit more. She took another step back. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure you need time to process it all.” Her words came out in a rush. She was becoming more nervous and confused by the second. He’d been bold in the weeks she’d been there, but there was an entirely new light in his eyes―one she didn’t trust at all.