Page 116 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“That would have made it hard for Hanson to empty your bank accounts,” Rochelle said with admiration.

“Yeah, there isn’t a whole lot in there right now because my new book’s been on hold.” Annabelle hesitated. “Actually, as part of that cut-price deal, you could waive the fees for this case.” She batted her eyelashes innocently.

“She looks so sweet,” Harris said. “But really, she’s a shark.”

“Lemme get this straight,” Abasi drawled. “For an old office in the middle of nowhere and a burned-out shop, you get to sleep with Noah, plus a free ride on your Benson Security bill and hours of volunteer work from the rest of us? Damn, girl, if you ever want to start a criminal empire, let me know.”

“Too much?” Annabelle asked Noah, laughter in her eyes.

“You’re worth it,” he assured her.

“So, what do you say, Rochelle?” Annabelle asked.

As one, the team turned to their reluctant leader. Rochelle sighed and rose to her feet, a mug of coffee in her hand. It seemed as though the room itself held a breath, waiting for her verdict. At last, she raised her mug.

“Here’s to the Benson Security Houston office,” she said. “The biggest group of misfits this side of the Atlantic.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Noah said with a grin.

Down the corridor, a voice rang out: “I’m a bloody hero!”

Harris turned to Logan. “It’s your turn.”

“I went last time,” Logan complained.

As they argued, Noah met Rochelle’s resigned gaze, and they smiled at each other.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

It was the early hours of the morning before everyone finally staggered off to bed. Noah was last to retire for the night—he wanted to do one final security sweep of the warehouse before joining Annabelle in the storage room. Eddie might be locked up tight, but the gang leader still had influence, and a few Demons still wandered the city.

Satisfied that the place was secure and the alarms all set, he walked through the quiet open-plan office to their makeshift bedroom. There’d never been any question as to where Noah would sleep. From now on, he planned to stick to Annabelle like glue.

The guys had helped him move the bed from the guest room upstairs into the storage room, and Annabelle was already in it when he arrived. The small, windowless room looked cozy, with a tiny lamp glowing and most of the space taken up by the bed.

“About time,” Annabelle said with a smile. “I thought I’d have to sleep alone.”

“Not tonight, Bella.” Or any other night, either, if he had his way.

He started to undress, her eyes darkening as she watched.

“Don’t bother with pj’s,” she said suggestively. “I didn’t.”

“Bella,” he groaned, kicking off his jeans. “I don’t think?—”

She held up a hand. “Good. Don’t think. Just get your cute backside into bed.”

There was no dealing with her. All Noah could do was comply. Her gaze turned appreciative once he’d stepped out of his underwear, and there was no denying his ego liked that look on her face.

“You’ve been through a lot today,” he said, trying a different tack. “You’re bruised and sore. And the doctor said you need sleep.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiled. “I’ll sleep after.”

Noah didn’t have the fight in him to protest any further. Like he’d said, it’d been a tough day, and he wanted to reassure himself that Annabelle was alive and well and was going to be okay.

Carefully, so as not to jostle her injuries, he pulled back the covers and slipped in beside her. “I need to hold you,” he confessed.

She willingly went into his embrace, pressing herself against his side as he slid an arm around her shoulders. There was something deeply reassuring about skin against skin. She hooked a leg over his as her hand splayed across his stomach. Noah held her tight, clasping her head as her cheek pressed against his chest.