As Flynn strode through the door, Pink was coming in from the short hallway that led to her and Charlie’s bedrooms.  She was dressed in a cropped Berkeley T-shirt with denim Daisy Duke shorts.  Pink-tipped hair framed her fresh scrubbed face in a sexy halo. Air lodged in his chest.  She looked so young and innocent.  Charlie was right, Pink was pure as the driven snow.  And he’d stomped all over it.  He swallowed hard, not knowing how to fix it.

Barefoot, she padded past him, her bubble gum scent wafting behind her, to the sofa where she sat down yoga style. Looking up at him, she asked, “Do you have any words of wisdom to impart before you go?”

Her hand trembled as she reached for the manila envelope on the coffee table.

“Are you afraid?” he quietly asked.

“I’d be foolish if I weren’t.”  Opening the folder, she asked, “Are you?  Afraid for me?”

If he told her the truth it might freak her out, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, but—he also wanted her to come home with him.  “A little.” Moving around the table, he sat down on the sofa next to her.  “Sorlov is a dangerous man. I’m afraid in your zeal to get the answers you want from him, you might do something that could get you hurt.”

“I’m not going to do anything but tell Andre that I’m only going to give Boris the thumb drive.  Besides, I’ve already tried to break into his office a few times, but it’s always locked up as tight as Fort Knox.”

“Jesus, that’s the last thing you should be doing!  If you got caught, you’d disappear without a trace just like your sister.”

Her brows crinkled. “I was careful.”

Flynn’s stomach constricted.  She was going to be the death of him. “What about the party?” he asked grimly.

“Party?”

“The private party at Sorlov’s?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell Maddox about that!  Do you think he’ll want me to go?  Maybe wire me up or something?”

Flynn shook his head.  “You’re not Mata Hari.  The less involved you are in the actual maneuvers of this operation, the safer you’ll be.”

“I can hold my own.  I’ve been doing it for three months with no one having my back.”

Flynn pursed his lips, looked down at his shoes, then over at Pink.  Flecks of gold sparkled mischievously in her sea green eyes.  The urge to dig his fingers into her hair and bring her mouth to his was overwhelming.  When she licked her top lip, he inwardly groaned.

Clearing his throat he said, “I think you’re smart and brave, but that’s not enough anymore.  Not when you’re up against someone as deadly as Sorlov. The stakes have gone up.  The blackmail video and the van assault this morning.  I’ve got a bad feeling.” He raised her chin with his fingers.  “I don’t like you home alone here.  You’re vulnerable.  Exposed. They could be watching you right now. Is there somewhere else you can stay for a few weeks?”

Her brows scrunched along with her pert nose. “I could go to Santa Cruz with Charlie and Steven, but I wouldn’t be able to work and I need the money. So, no. I have nowhere to hide out.”

Flynn nodded.  He’d figured as much.  Had hoped for it, truth be told.

“Then I’d like you to consider coming to my place. I—”

“No.” It was emphatic.

“Look, I have three damn floors.  We won’t have to see each other if you don’t want to.  It’s safe, off the grid. I go back and forth to the city several times a week.  I don’t mind dropping you off at the club or picking you up.”

She stood, shaking her head.  “Not going to happen, Flynn, so stop.”

He didn’t stand. Keeping his cool was paramount right now.  He didn’t want to fight with her.  But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer either.

“Give me one good reason?” he asked, looking up at her.

“I don’t need to give you a bad reason.  I said no, and that’s that.”

Flynn stood, moving within inches of her. “Are you afraid of being around me?”

“Of course not.  I’m around you now.”

“Are you afraid we’ll be intimate again?”

“Hell no!  That ship sailed,” she said, although not with the conviction she intended.

“Do you want to be?” he asked.

Hissing in a breath as if he’d touched her intimately between the thighs, she looked at him as if she was staring at headlights.  “It doesn’t matter what I want. Remember the deal breaker?  Or do I have to remind you how you treated me after our encounter with Allen Stiles, Sunday night?”

“You knew who he was?”

“Who doesn’t know who he is? He’s got his fingers in every tech pie in Silicon Valley.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

“I don’t know him, I know who he is.  Would it have changed anything?  He’s just another arrogant rich white guy who thinks because he has more money than God he can throw it at anything he wants and get it.”

Frustrated, Flynn began pacing.  He wasn’t used to being disobeyed.  “You’re being stubborn because of your pride,” he said.  “You’re in jeopardy, Isadora. You’re being foolish for not taking appropriate measures to stay safe.”

“Yes, I’m being stubborn,” she shouted.  “Not because of my pride, but because I don’t choose to stay within the same four walls with someone who thinks their shit doesn’t stink and mine does because I’ve stripped to pay my rent and he hasn’t!”  She walked to the front door and jerked it open.  “Please take your judgmental self from my house and don’t ever come back.”

Flynn stood his ground. “I don’t give a shit if half of California has seen your tits, Isa,” he shouted back. The words shocked her, judging by the stunned look on her face. He lowered his voice and slowly said, “I have a problem that you’re going back to that dump and shaking them for the other half, even if it’s taking it for team Chastain.  A team that doesn’t give a fuck about you!”

“So what?” she screamed at him. Slamming the door shut, she moved toward him, getting into his personal space.  “What does it matter to you,” she demanded, poking her finger into his chest, “what I do or why I do it?”

She was spitting mad.  But so was he.  He wanted to grab her and shake her and make her promise she would never let another man see what he had seen.  Not for all the rent money in the world, not even for her sister.  But for him, because he asked her not to. And because damn it, he—was fucking it all up.

He had no right to ask her to stop.

But he could protect her, not up close like he’d prefer, but from afar. He owed her that, and even if he didn’t, he would because she meant something to him. Putting his hands up, he said, “It doesn’t.”

Her jaw dropped.  “I hate you,” she whispered.

“I wish I could say the same thing about you, but it would be a lie.”  He walked to the door and grabbed the knob.  “Lock this. Look up OPD’s dispatch number, plug it into your phone and call it instead of nine-one-one if you have a problem. You’ll get a quicker response.”  He opened the door and walked through it. Before he closed it behind him, he looked at her.  His chest tightened with emotion.  She stood proud and defiant, the tears sparkling in her beautiful eyes belying her stance. How did he tell her she meant something to him without giving her hope?

How did he explain that he had no confidence in love? Once the honeymoon was over, the drudgery set in. Then the resentment followed by divorce. With the exception of Kat and Simon, who were still in the honeymoon phase, Flynn could not name one single married couple he knew where one of the two wasn’t miserable.  Pink deserved a man who believed in love. He cared enough about her to admit he wasn’t that man and because he wasn’t, he shut down.

“I’m just a phone call away.”  He turned, shut the door behind him, and walked to his car feeling like he’d just tossed something precious away.

Chapter Twenty-three

Izzy lay staring at the ceiling, the drone of the windup alarm clock on her nightstand the only sound that penetrated her brain.  The traffic outside had quieted and the unexpected rain had stopped. The cadence of the tick-tock tick-tock of the clock reverberated in her ears.