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Harding springs out of his chair and scrambles away from Chelsea. His pants tent with a boner, but I zero in on the fingers of his right hand. They’re not glistening. That means he hadn’t touched Chelsea yet or was bringing her no pleasure.
My glare swings to Chelsea, and it takes massive effort not to let my face soften toward her. A husband would be furious, so that’s what I have to project. Her face falls as very real shame rolls off her in waves.
I look away and rush over to Harding. Though I want to pound him, I keep enough distance so my uniform doesn’t even brush against his expensive suit. “I don’t care who the fuck you are. You better get the hell out of here before I break you in half.”
Harding scrambles from the room, knocking over his chair as he does. I watch the man leave and then pause to take a few deep breaths. My anger is not for Chelsea, but I still need a moment to let the rage fade from my face.
When my fury subsides, I turn and kneel before Chelsea. She won’t look at me. “Are you alright?” I ask, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Chelsea lets out a sob but still won’t lift her eyes to mine. “I couldn’t do it. He was close to giving up his contact, but I couldn’t stand the feel of his hands on me. I failed my team.”
I lift her hand to my lips, lightly brushing her knuckles. “I’m glad.”
Now, Chelsea looks up. “You’re happy I failed?”
Shaking my head, I answer, “I’m happy you protected yourself.”
Chelsea’s eyes widen, and she takes my face in trembling hands. The soothing warmth of her touch is at odds with the urgency in her eyes. “Jackson, I didn’t mean what I said. I was_”
I grasp her face like she’s holding mine. “Chelsea, stop. You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have walked away. From here on, I swear. I’m never walking away again. I’m in love with you. I’m yours to tame. Yours to love. Yours to destroy.”
Chelsea sobs quietly, and I lean in to pull her to me. A voice at the door barks for me to stop. “Jackson, don’t move.”
Knot’s people spill into the room, and Aaron pulls me to my feet. The man touches my chest and blocks me when I try to swat his hand away. “Hold on a minute, dammit. Let me get the camera first.”
I freeze and look down at the small black disk stuck to my lieutenant patch. That’s why he smacked me as I was leaving the surveillance room. “Is that all you need?”
Aaron glances toward Chelsea and nods.
“Then I’m getting her out of here.”
I brush past Aaron to take Chelsea’s hand. She rises in obedience but doesn’t look at anyone as I lead her from the room. No one tries to speak to her, either.
Bash stops me in the hallway but only to hand me mine and Chelsea’s bags. “Call me in the morning, will ya?”
“I will. Thanks.”
Chelsea offers no resistance as we exit the Willard and walk to the hotel across the street. She’s silent throughout the trek, worrying me. I’m a little curt with the receptionist in my rush to get Chelsea somewhere private. I get the sense that her breakthrough is leading to a breakdown, and I want her to feel safe enough to do it.
The instant we’re behind the closed door of our room, I drop our bags and whirl around, pulling her tightly against me. That’s when the dam finally breaks.
“I’m so sorry, Jackson,” she sobs, burying her face into my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m_”
She’s killing me. I tilt her chin up and stop her by crushing my lips to hers. Chelsea lets my innocent kiss linger for a moment before pulling away.
Unshed tears fill her sad eyes, and pain laces her voice. “I let him touch me.”
Damn it. This is what I was afraid of. Wanting to make things abundantly clear, I back up to the bed and pull Chelsea onto my lap. With her straddling me, we’re now eye to eye. “No, you didn’t. You used the code word. We just didn’t get to you fast enough because we were all piled in the room watching the feeds. We failed you, Chelsea. I failed you. I should have been there the whole time. I should have been right outside that fucking door.”
Chelsea’s eyes squeeze shut, sending a torrent of tears racing down her cheeks. “I hurt you.”
“Not as much as I hurt you. I’m sorry I left. I should have_”
Chelsea takes a turn at shutting me up.
Her surrender is sweet. Making it even sweeter is that I haven’t asked for it. I’m so instantly drunk on her kiss that I don’t fight when she pushes me to lie back.
I grieve the loss of her lips when she lifts off my chest. Chelsea undresses me with the speed of someone used to wearing a similar uniform and boots. I watch, entranced, knowing she doesn’t want me to move.