Chapter 11

He slid the keycard through the door and got them back inside the building, the need to keep her safe from the photogs more important than them catching a picture of him looking the worse for wear. Leading her to a chair he motioned for her to sit as he deftly started picking the shards of glass from her hair. She been through enough, her cutting herself during…

It was then his mind veered to just that vision, her long lithe body and his in a shower as he finished her hair. He closed his eyes a moment and forced the thoughts back. Now was not the time to find his missing libido for fuck sakes. Opening his eyes he glanced down only to watch her fidget. The usual cool veneer was cracking and if she didn't quit it with her fingers, it would be them first.

Richie pulled back from her hair but still hovered near Alex. He wasn't used to looking at her like she was anything but capable. Seeing her falter and try to make everything better put the first positive spin on anything dealing with the bloody situation. He palmed the keycard and stuffed it in his jeans pocket. "C'mon, I'll get you home."

Her eyes widened at his comment. He wanted to take her home? He didn't need to do that. Why the hell was he even offering? She swallowed hard, her eyes shifting towards the door, what if there was another car out there? What if they got hurt? She'd just sit right here until morning. Daylight might be safer.

Richie looked down at her, frozen in her seat. "Alex?"

Her gaze shifted upwards as she cleared her throat. Damn his brown gaze held concern, they shouldn't hold concern. "Yes?"

Richie's hand gentled on her shoulder. "Let me take you home where it's safe, okay?"

She nodded and stood, her hand pulling her tote tightly to her. She shouldn't be allowing this, he didn’t need to know where she lived, but she didn't want to brave that street alone at the moment. "Ok."

Richie looked down at her and her wide golden eyes, so lost and scared. The Alex he was used to was showing her vulnerable side and he wanted to make sure everything was going to be okay for her. "C'mon, Lex."

He pulled her from the chair, his arm going around her and felt the violent tremors running rampant through her. Christ, the accident had really unsettled her. Where was that ice princess he was so used to? This woman, this real woman was vastly different and called up all the protectiveness inside of him. He couldn’t afford the nurturing feelings she was inspiring dammit.

Settling her in his car he swiftly moved to the driver’s side and slid in, his motions to crank the car and pull into the street simple automatic moves as he watched her from the corner of her eyes. He’d just get her home and safe, he could do that right? After all she’d saved him a lot of hurt, it was the least he could do. [i] Yeah jackass, not like she needs your brand of stupid right now[/i]. He yanked his eyes back to driving as she shivered again. Better to pay attention to the road instead of the woman, this woman. She could be trouble if he wasn’t careful.

Richie pulled up to her apartment. Little had been said except for directions to her flat in the heart of the packing district. He shouldn't be surprised. Bits and pieces of her were definitely artsy and the old revamped packing district was perfect in it's bohemian society.

No one messed with each other. People kept to themselves, either artist or businessman/women. It was a place for the professional to meet the artistic.

Her scent was embedded in the car, his leather soaking in the light, lemony scent with something darker and sexier underneath. She was unconsciously sexy. Her legs twisted into a demure cross, but the flick of her heel against the floorboards showed how uncomfortable she was. She didn't like being this close to him.

He wasn't sure how or why he knew that, just was positive that as soon as he stopped she’d bolt the car. He swallowed a laugh as she climbed out of the car before he could even turn off the ignition. He flipped his seat forward and grabbed her laptop case, leaving her to go for her purse. "I'll walk you upstairs."

She wasn't sure she could handle his accompaniment to her door. Hell the ride home had taken forever, all she wanted to do was go hide for the night in the safety of her apartment.


Her gaze flickered to his hands and away, shit the more she paid attention to the way his muscles moved under his skin the more she just wanted to ... she stopped the thoughts and shook her head, her eyes moving to the street to watch a car coast by, unable to hold back the sudden chill. "You don't have to, really. I'm sure you have other things to do."

"I'm more worried about you right now." He closed the door and engaged his locks. "I'll just make sure you're all right and settled, then I'll leave you be."

Her brow shifted upwards, as she bit her lower lip. Why would he want to do that? Not like they were friends, or hell even friendly for that matter. She was just business, it made no sense, none at all.

The more she kept seeing of him the more she had to acknowledge he wasn't just a flake and that wasn't good at all. She took a steady look at his face and could almost see the obstinacy coming out. She wasn't going to get rid of him until he was satisfied, she felt that intensely.

Offering up a half sigh, grunt she nodded. "It's this way."

She led him to an old style door with a very high tech security panel. Evidently business was good if she could afford something like this right in the city. She opened the door and he followed her up the small flight of stairs. The angle left his gaze pretty much right in line with her ass and that so wasn't helping his protective instincts.

He'd been raised to protect and nurture. It was what he did. It was his role in the organization as well as most of the relationships in his life. He didn't have it in him to be the caretaker anymore, even though every instinct of his wanted to bundle up this woman and see if he could melt the ice she used to hold everyone back.

She came to another door, fiddling with the locks as she opened the door to a simply cavernous apartment. Space. It was just space. It was the first words that came to mind. Rough hewn brick was softened by battered wood and clean lines. Canvasses littered the walls and were stacked four and five deep in one corner. Another stark board sat on an easel. The white was so bright, it felt like a light table set up on its side. He frowned as no paints, tubes or brushes littered the tables there beside it, just that canvas. Everything else was so neat and clear. Utilitarian walls in that stark white was broken up by the architectural brick, but no other color lay there.

She was an artist. Nothing he saw in her private space added up.