The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (59 page)

When the elevators
stopped, she was the first out, and he trailed her to the room. She stepped aside as he swiped the lock with his hotel key card. He let her pass, and followed behind her hoping she’d hear him out and give him a chance to explain. And he knew he had much to explain.

He dropped his bag and was about to speak when he heard the sound of the bathroom door closing none too gently.

“Bella,” he called in frustration. “We are going to talk. I prefer not through a door.”

She finally answered. “I’ll be out in a minute.” She needed time to think before she could face him.

For that he was glad. He was also glad she wasn’t barricading herself in there, but a minute was not long enough to plan what he needed to say.

*     *     *

Inside the bathroom,
Bella looked at herself in the mirror. The mirror didn’t lie. She was not the same person she’d been a month ago. Hell, even a year ago when her mother’s cancer returned and the doctors told her there was nothing else they could do, she’d begun to change then. Her party life style changed. She knew there were more important things in life than hanging out with friends, partying, dancing. Life was more important. Her mom taught her that. She’d begged Bella to live, to run so she could live.

And she’d done it.
What choice did she have?
Jail and silence, the fear of retribution by the Romans if she so much as breathed a word? Her plan had been simple. Hide in her aunt’s cabin for a year, or more, then slowly re-enter society.

Then Blaze burst into her life like an inferno, a maelstrom. The attraction was instantaneous and she got too close to the fire. She thought her luck was changing, but no. Life wasn’t kind. Not for Bella Chase. She turned on the faucet and scooped up a handful of water, splashing it on her face. She used one of the Egyptian cotton towels to pat the moisture dry and looked in the mirror once more.

When she went down, she thought ruefully, it was in a blaze of glory. The betrayal she felt by Blaze was painful, so painful she couldn’t even cry, yet. If she did it would break her. God knew what he had to say to explain this, how he used her. Nothing really. She felt hopeless as she turned to the door and clasped the handle. Hopeless.

*     *     *

The cool surface
of the knob calmed her, and she paused gathering what little courage she had to face Blaze—his lies, his male reasoning, for using her so badly, before he brought her in to claim his twenty-five thousand dollar prize.

“Bella!” Blaze exclaimed, jumping up from the bed when she emerged from the bathroom minutes later. She’d taken a bit longer than she said she would and he’d begun to worry. She was walking towards him, but wouldn’t, probably couldn’t, meet his eyes. It gutted him.

He let her pass and watched as she sat on the king sized bed, the spot he had just vacated. He hated seeing her like this, so forlorn, so defeated. He tried to reach for her hands but she shifted away, not allowing the contact.

Blaze stood abruptly and softly cursed under his breath. She could hear the frustration in his gasp, and cautiously glanced up at him when she saw him turn, his back to her. He began to pace and talk at the same time. “Shit Bella, I don’t know where to start. I’m so beyond confused right now, but the first thing I want you to know is I did not use you. I genuinely care for you. Those feelings are real.”

He turned to see her reaction. She was looking at him, and this time she didn’t flinch or look away. He took a step closer. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say. You know everything about me.” Her meaning was clear. The word
everything
had been carefully enunciated.

“Yes, I do, what can be written down. But not what is in your heart. My reports don’t say you are the sweetest person, have a giving nature, and that you have a heart. It doesn’t say you are the victim, but I know you are. That’s not in my report. Those are things I learned about you in the first few hours of meeting you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t look away. He went on. “Within twenty-four hours, I knew you could not have possibly been involved in what you are accused of. By day two, I was trying to think of a way to help you.”

“Is it because you wanted to fuck me, or fuck WITH me a few more times,” she hissed between her teeth.

“Bella don’t say that.” His voice, too, rose in anger. “I told you already I care.”

“How am I supposed to believe you? You’ve been lying to me from minute one.” She held up her index finger to make the point and stood up. “You’re a bounty hunter, not some attorney who helps people wrongfully committed like you led me to believe.” She was chest to chest with him. She wasn’t going to back down. She felt dirty the way he had fooled her. How could ever she trust him now?

“Yes, Bella. I am a bounty hunter, and I came to take you in. That was the plan, in the beginning.” He grasped her shoulders when she tried to turn. He shook her when she tried to look away. “But I don’t lie. Ever. We, my brothers and I, do investigative work, and we have helped people, innocent people, prove their innocence. We work for several attorneys in Florida, defense attorneys. I told you that. But we choose the cases we want. And I want to help you. I do.”

“Why should I believe you now?” she snapped, green eyes staring him down.

Blaze didn’t know what to say or do to make her believe him; words weren’t working, so instead he tried to show her. Releasing her shoulders, he pulled her to him, crushed her in his embrace, and his lips descended before Bella could protest.

His tongue demanded entrance while her hands beat against his back futilely.

Bella pounded against his back, but despite her anger at this man, there was no denying her body’s yearning for him. She struggled in vain against his iron-like strength, and her own reaction to him. Soon her attempts to break away were feeble at best, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of returning this kiss.

When Blaze felt her relax, he softened his approach. “This is why,” he murmured softly, and kissed the side of her mouth, “and this,” he kissed her cheek, “and this.” He trailed kisses down her neck and returned up to her ear. “Because, Bella, I have tried to tell you this before, I’m falling in love with you.”

Love!
Those words sent shock waves through Bella’s body; her strength returned and she slipped her arms around front and pushed with all her might, sending Blaze back a foot. He was looking at her in bewilderment and shock.

“Love?” she spat. “Love? You used me.”

“No never,” he denied vehemently. “I don’t want you to think I used you. Not ever. From the very first moment, I felt the connection. You can’t deny what we have between us.”

“Desire. Attraction. Maybe. Loneliness, I don’t know. But love? Do you even know what love is?”

Blaze felt rage. He had bared his soul to her. “Bella,” he stated much more calmly than he felt, “I know the timing is bad, but are you seriously telling me you don’t care for me after today.”

Bella turned from him. She felt the tears coming and couldn’t, no wouldn’t, let him see them. “I . . .” she searched for the right words while her heart began to tear, “I can’t love anyone. I am going to jail. I have no right.”

“No right? You have every right. I told you I don’t believe you’re guilty. I don’t believe it for a minute, Bella,” he spoke her name more softly, and approached her from behind. Again, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her. He needed to see those eyes. “I am not bringing you in until I clear your name. I swear it. If you don’t feel the same way about me, if you don’t trust me, fine, so be it, but trust this.” He tapped her on the chest right where her heart was.

Trust her heart?
She had.
And he lied, hadn’t he?
He’d definitely kept the truth from her. She was just too confused. She didn’t know who to trust; she was facing prison. And facing Blaze, his blue eyes begged her to trust in him. She had. She’d almost given him her whole heart on the porch of her cabin right before the shooting started. “Blaze, I just, just . . . need time.”

“Oh, fuck!” he cursed turning and began to pace. He ran his hands through his black hair and looked at her, the woman he loved. The woman that had lost her faith in him. His heart was breaking for her. He’d do anything and told her. He stopped pacing and faced her. “I, I can give you that. Whatever you need.” He took a step back and gave her space too.

“I also need clothes,” she murmured looking around the room. “I have nothing.”

“You can borrow something of mine,” he reached for his bag to pull out a t-shirt for her. “And you have me, when you’re ready,” his eyes shone with unshed emotion when he handed her the t-shirt. “I’m here.”

She nodded, and her heart cracked a little. The tears were coming. She needed to make a getaway. “I’m going to take a shower,” she mumbled, quickly passing him. He was gazing at her so intently. She rushed to the door of the bathroom before she threw herself into his arms, and before he could see her cry.

Healing

W
hen Bella emerged
from the hotel shower; Blaze knew she had been crying and it tore at him knowing he was the cause of it. Her face was drawn, and her expression although devoid of emotion, was puffy. She was trying to keep it all in.

She looked so worn out. She wore his t-shirt, the one advertising the college he attended in New York. It went down to her mid thighs, and she wore a towel around her hair.

When registering, he hadn’t even thought to ask for two queen beds in his rush to get her out of view, and looking around the room now, he could tell Bella was contemplating the sleeping arrangements. He’d sleep on the floor if she asked him to, walk on coals, but she was not talking again.

He’d turned on the TV and was watching the local news when she came out. While she was in the shower, he texted his brother informing him of what had transpired. It had been a lengthy text, but he didn’t want Bella to overhear a phone conversation that might have opened her up to even more grief.

She passed him and made her way around to the other side of the bed and sat down, her back to him. She slowly unwrapped her hair, and it dropped out of the towel in a damp disarray of tangles. She used her fingers to comb through the mess, and he could see as he watched her, she was having much difficulty. Silently he got up and from his suitcase, he retrieved his brush and comb, cleaned them, and walked it over holding them out to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly taking the brush from him. It was obvious she was still fighting back the tears.

“Bella, again, I’m sorry. But I’m going to make this right. I promise.”

She just nodded; she couldn’t speak. She didn’t want to break down in front of this man. In the bathroom, she had come to terms with her situation, and although it looked grim, he was her only chance. She couldn’t run forever, she had been found, by not one, but two sets of people already, and she was sure the police would be next. Her best bet was sticking with Blaze. It was the lesser evil of all her options.

What had her so upset was that she cared for him, a lot. Like he claimed, she too was falling in love with him. Her future was so up in the air and she no longer felt any kind of control. Her chance at freedom was so tenuous at best, had always been if she faced reality. And her future with Blaze, well, she didn’t see one now. How could she trust he meant what he said when their foundations were a lie? Yes, she had lied too, but out of necessity and for self-preservation.

Blaze was still watching her closely as she picked up the brush and began to slowly pull it through her hair. It kept snagging on the knots. She tugged ferociously at one spot, and several strands came out, and so did the brush. It rolled onto the floor by Blaze’s feet.

Blaze retrieved the brush for her and was going to hand it to her, but seeing Bella so defeated, on a whim and because he wanted to do something, anything to help her, he decided to brush her hair for her. He sat beside her holding the brush, and signaled silently for her to turn and give him her back, his eyes pleading. Her eyebrow arched slightly, and he spoke after clearing his throat. “Let me help you.” He indicated the brush but meant so much more.