The Walls Of Troy Part 18

Troy released my hand, though, and cleared his throat. "It's late. I should let you get some sleep."

Thank G.o.d one of us is still rational tonight.

I nodded. "You should get some too."

Troy laughed dryly. "I don't see that happening any time soon."

"Are you worried he's going to come back? Tonight?"

Shuddering, Troy swallowed. "Not really. Dad's got night security patrolling the yard almost nonstop. I'm just...edgy."

"I think anyone would be." Without thinking about it, I moved to the edge of my chair and wrapped my arms around him. "We'll stop this guy before he f.u.c.ks with you. I'm not letting him hurt you."

"I shouldn't have let him hurt you."

I kissed the top of Troy's head, ignoring the sting in my lip. "He didn't do any damage."

"He could have killed you."

"He didn't. And he won't." I drew back and met his eyes, ready to remind him I was really all right, but...

Jesus, you have the bluest eyes I've ever seen.

Neither of us made any move to draw away, and I swore the s.p.a.ce between us had suddenly developed its own gravitational pull, drawing us together with an invisible force. I resisted, trying to keep those few inches of air between his chest and mine. Trying and failing.

Troy's eyes flicked from mine to my mouth, and he tensed a little. "Your lip..."

I combed my fingers through his hair. "Of all the reasons we shouldn't do this, my lip is one of the lowest on the list."

His Adam's apple bobbed. "So there's a million reasons why we shouldn't, but does that mean..."

He held my gaze. I held his.

And whether we should have or not, whether we meant to or not, we were drawing closer to each other. He lifted his chin slightly. I lowered mine. When the tip of his nose brushed mine, I tilted my head, and to h.e.l.l with it-I pressed my lips to his. Troy released a long breath through his nose, and our bodies melted together, arms sliding around each other and lips parting to let the kiss deepen even though it shouldn't have existed at all.

My lip stung, but the softness of his kiss was too addictive to stop. I ran my fingers through his hair, breathed in his scent, and let myself get completely lost in him. I was hard, and so was he, but neither of us moved to take this beyond a kiss. We didn't need to. My head spun enough from this alone.

I broke the kiss and touched my forehead to his, wincing slightly as his skin brushed the bruise and glued cut, reminding me of what had happened earlier. And why. G.o.d, who in the world would ever want to hurt him? I held him tighter, as if I could somehow protect him from everyone and everything. As if we weren't playing with fire by getting close when someone dangerously possessive and territorial lurked out there somewhere.

d.a.m.n it.

I made myself pull back completely and looked in his eyes. His black-ringed blue eyes with the pupils blown and the shadowed lids heavy. "We shouldn't..."

"I know." He ran his tongue across his lips. Sighing, he loosened his embrace, and we both sat back. "I want to, but we so shouldn't. And..." He shook his head. "You should be resting anyway."

Well, that was good an excuse as any to pry ourselves apart.

He cleared his throat and surrept.i.tiously adjusted the front of his jeans. "Maybe after we've had some sleep and some coffee tomorrow, we can figure out where to go from here."

I didn't know if he meant with regard to whatever the h.e.l.l we were doing, or addressing his ex, or both, but either way, I nodded. "Yeah. Let's do that."

"Okay." He looked down. "Talos. Come on."

The huge dog groaned, startling me because I'd forgotten he was even there, and pushed himself to his feet.

Troy met my eyes again. "Good night, Iskander."

"Good night."

We exchanged another long look, and then he and Talos left.

I settled into the guest room but still couldn't sleep. Now that everything had died down for the night, I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had led up to me lying here in Admiral Dalton's house with a mild concussion, a cut on my forehead, and two burns from a Taser's alligator clips. Worse, I couldn't stop thinking about how things could have gone down.

What if Troy had been with me? Though the current from the Taser lasted only five seconds-the longest five seconds of my life, but still only five seconds-that was five seconds I was completely defenseless, and completely unable to stop anyone from hurting Troy. If he'd been walking with me, and the ex had been convinced we were dating, what would he have done to him?

And my G.o.d, even if the ex didn't touch him and only a.s.saulted me, Troy didn't need to see that. He was rattled enough from the aftermath.

I rubbed a hand over my face, carefully avoiding the cut and the throbbing bruise. It was hard to believe all this had happened on the same night Troy and I had crossed into territory that was dangerous enough without a psychotic ex-boyfriend lurking behind the scenes. G.o.ddammit. And if I had known then that we were dealing with a jealous, territorial ex, would I still have given in to that kiss?

Of course I would have.

Dangerous or not, the only thing surprising about that part of tonight's insanity was that it hadn't already happened. And now... s.h.i.t.

I was a mess of feelings I had no business having for Troy. I was rattled and bruised thanks to an ex who didn't want to let go of someone he had no right to have.

f.u.c.k. I'd known from the start that I was in over my head.

But I'd never counted on any of this.

Chapter Thirteen.

The next morning, my body was predictably sore. My forehead was tender, and I still felt like I'd had my a.s.s handed to me, but I felt better than I had a few hours ago. If anything, I was exhausted from a restless night.

I made my way from the guest room into the kitchen, where the MAs had been given unlimited access to the high-capacity coffeemaker. Someone had already put the coffee on, thank G.o.d, so I poured myself a cup and sipped it black.

My head was throbbing a little, and half a cup of coffee wasn't helping, so I fished a fresh icepack out of the freezer and carefully pressed it against the bruise. The pressure wasn't pleasant, but the cold was nice, and the throbbing slowly subsided.

"How are you feeling?" Troy's voice startled me.

When I turned around, my breath caught. He stood in the doorway, arms folded loosely across a plain black T-shirt. The usual dark rings of kohl around his eyes were gone, with only the faintest smoky smudge left behind to imply they'd ever been there at all. His damp hair was finger-combed to the side instead of meticulously spiked and styled, and a few strings hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes.

"I'll live," I said. "What about you?"

He gave a taut shrug. "I'm not the one who kissed the pavement."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah." He came all the way into the kitchen. "I'm okay, all things considered." He took a deep breath. "So, what do you think we should do now? After last night?"

Probably not be alone together in the same room...

I cleared my throat. "Well, I don't think the plainclothes approach is working. This jacka.s.s doesn't think I'm your bodyguard. He thinks I'm your boyfriend. He needs to believe there's nothing between us, and my presence needs to be a deterrent. Maybe if he sees me as a cop instead of..."

Our eyes met, but we both quickly broke away.

"You're probably right." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "We just have to make it obvious that you're there as protective detail, not..." His eyes darted toward me.

I swallowed. "Some stalkers can see a guard as a challenge. Or an acknowledgment that he's gotten under your skin."

"I know Ben." He shuddered. "He couldn't give two s.h.i.ts about me having protective detail as long as I don't touch someone. The biggest problem is if he sees me with someone in uniform."

I c.o.c.ked my head. "You just said he doesn't care about protective detail."

"He doesn't." Troy sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "The thing is, Ben knows I have a serious thing for military guys. That's all I've ever dated."

"Is that why you wanted me in plainclothes?"

Without looking up, he nodded. "I mean, of course there's nothing that says I won't date a civilian. But he knows me. He knows my kinks. If there's a Sailor or a Marine or anybody so much as talking to me, then..."

"So if he sees you with an armed guard in uniform..."

Troy finally met my gaze. "What if it's not the same guard every time?"

I adjusted the icepack against my head. "So, rotating two or three of us?"

"Yeah."

"That could work." I lowered the icepack for a moment. "Except that means explaining the situation to your father."

He shuddered again, closing his eyes.

"Troy." I leaned forward and grasped his arm. "I'm not suggesting this is easy, but I think you need to at least partially come clean to your father."

Throwing up his hands, Troy pulled away. He stood and started pacing. "No. I can't tell him. I f.u.c.king-"

"He doesn't..." I hesitated. "He doesn't have to know who it is. But maybe if he knows there is an individual targeting you..."

"How do I explain that?"

"I...f.u.c.k, I don't know."

He thought for a moment. "I guess I could tell him it was a one-night stand who doesn't want to back off. I don't know the guy's name and I don't know where he came from. Only that he won't leave me alone."

"Are you sure?"

Troy's piercings glinting in the warm light as he lifted his eyebrows. "Can you think of any other cover stories?"

"No, but..." I stood and stepped closer to him. "I just..."

"If you're worried about me telling my dad I've had anonymous one-night stands with shady guys..." He shrugged. "It's better than the alternative."

"Right. I mean, I don't condone lying to your father or to my commanding officer as a general rule, but in this case..."

He nodded, lowering his gaze.

"Tell him last night rattled you. It was just some random jacka.s.s trying to steal s.h.i.t from our cars, but it made you think, and now you want to step up your security a bit."

"Okay. Let's go do this now before I talk myself out of it."

I finished my coffee, and we left the kitchen in silence. Troy led the way to Dalton's private study on the second floor, where we found him sitting at his giant desk in civvies.

"Hey, Dad?"

Dalton looked up and sat straighter. "Troy. MA1."

"Sir," I said with a slight nod.

"How are you feeling, MA1?"

"I'm all right, sir." I glanced at Troy. "But we wanted to talk to you about what happened last night."

"I see." He folded his hands in his lap. "Anything in particular on your minds?"

I turned to Troy, eyebrows up. He gulped, then faced his father. "I don't think the guy who attacked Iskander was just a random car prowler."

Dalton barely moved, but the tension in his posture was palpable. "What do you mean?"

"I..." Troy closed his eyes, exhaled, then set his shoulders back and looked his father in the eye. "I hooked up with a guy a few months ago. At a club. And he, uh, apparently doesn't want to take no for an answer."

"What?" Dalton's face reddened, and he reached for the phone on his desk. "Give me his name. I'm having him arrested."

"That's the thing. I don't know where he lives. I don't..." Troy's face turned red, and he broke eye contact with his father. "I don't even know his real name."

Dalton blinked. He took his hand off the phone, folded both of them on the blotter, and stared up at his son. "I beg your pardon?"

"I...have no idea who he actually is."

"Then how do you know it's him?"

Troy squirmed under his father's scrutiny. "I've seen his face a few times recently. On campus. I even thought I saw him in front of the neighbor's house. And I think he thinks there's something going on with Iskander and me."