Page 90 of The Forbidden Billionaire
I almost blush. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask you,” Swinton says, “what does your gut feeling tell you about this guy?”
“Male, white, mid-to-late twenties,” I reply. “He works in the security field, possibly ex-forces, like me. He’s smart, intense, and focused. But quiet, reserved, socially awkward. Maybe has trouble getting girls.”
“You’ve done work on criminal profiling?”
“No, sir, just what I’ve put together from the evidence.”
“I think you’re completely right on all accounts,” Swinton states. “Give us a day or two to work through the evidence, and see what emerges. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Okay,” I reply, “thank you.”
“Ms. Ashford, do you have any questions?”
“No,” she says. “Thank you.”
“Please, try not to worry,” he says. “I know the fact that he entered your apartment must feel incredibly intrusive and scary. But it revealed more than I’m guessing he expected, and I’m hopeful it will lead to a conviction.”
“Thank you,” she says.
We say goodbye, and I end the call.
Aurelia shivers. The sea breeze is growing, whipping the ocean into white horses.
I don’t want to talk about the case. I want to take her mind off it. “Let’s go inside,” I suggest. “Watch some TV or something.”
We sit on the sofa, close but not touching, put our feet up on the coffee table, and turn on the big TV. It has Netflix and several other streaming services, and because we both like historical movies and neither of us has seen it, we choose the newWuthering Heightsand settle back to watch it.
Aurelia curls up and rests her head on the back of the sofa. It’s warm in the room, and her eyelids droop. I think all the stress and anxiety of the past few weeks has finally got to her.
I fight with myself for a while. Technically, I’m here as her CPO. I’m still on duty, and she’s still under my protection. Nothing’s changed.
And yet everything’s changed. She’s become so much more to me than my principal. I don’t just want to protect her. I want to comfort her and make her feel better.
I lift my arm along the back of the sofa and slide down a little, getting comfortable on the cushions. I don’t look at her, but I feel her sleepy gaze on me. She studies me for a while. And then she moves toward me.
Without speaking, she rests her head on my shoulder, and I lower my arm around her.
Within a couple of minutes, she’s dozing.
I turn and lie back on the cushions, and she murmurs and snuggles up against me. The sun streams in through the windows, falling across our legs in thick gold bars.
Her body is soft against mine. Mustn’t think too hard about that, though.
It’s impossible to stay awake, and before long, I fall into a light doze, my hand resting on her hip, her arm slung across my waist.
*
When we wake, it’s late afternoon. The clouds are closer now, and the sea out to the east is a dark-gray, although here the sun’s still shining.
Aurelia pushes up and yawns. “Mmm. Sorry about that. I dozed off.”
“I think we both needed it.”
She moves away a little, and I sit back up, assuming she’s going to get up. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she tucks her feet under my thigh. I smile and stretch out my legs, liking that she wants to continue touching me, and that she’s comfortable doing it.
“This is nice,” she says, resting her temple on the back of the sofa.
