Page 17 of Always Been Mine (Always #2)

He lowered her on the mattress and did some maneuvering to get her under the covers. Gabe couldn’t help himself and pressed a kiss on her lips. “See you tomorrow, poppy.”

Beatrice was already lightly snoring away.

Dressed in black, her red hair in a severe bun, Beatrice stood at the back of the gathering for the funeral of Eric Stone.

Security was tight, and a larger crowd stood outside the cemetery gates.

Though not a national sensation, Titanium Rose had an avid following in Northern Virginia and Washington DC.

Gabe stood beside her. She was surprised when he showed up at her condo this morning dressed in a suit.

He was one of those men who could be comfortable in whatever setting was required of him.

He would look good in all-commando gear as well as an expensive suit, and judging with her experienced eyes, the one he was wearing today cost at least three grand.

It was a sunny day despite the chill; he wore sunglasses, which shielded some of the bruises he had sustained last night.

Her icy walls were thawing. In a weird twist of fate, the revelation last night seemed to have released all doubts that what Gabe had done was crucial to National Security.

Taking down an organization intent on selling black market nukes to terrorists who could unleash them on U.S.

soil was a strategic accomplishment. Prevention rather than reaction.

How could she diminish the success of a brilliant plan?

It did not completely dispel her reservations of being with someone like him, like her father, but she couldn’t seem to stop him from worming himself back into her life.

He was just there, allowing himself to be used.

She had not promised him anything; she would see how this played out.

The gathering in front of her started moving. The funeral was over.

“Ready?” Gabe whispered by her ear.

She nodded.

They almost made it to their car when they got ambushed by Kelly Winters.

The reporter eyed Gabe appreciatively. “Beatrice.”

“What do you want, Ms. Winters?”

“Hostile.” The reporter’s lips curved in a derisive smile. “Feeling guilty?”

“Look, it’s Eric’s funeral. Show some respect.”

“There were rumors he overdosed and he had pictures of you scattered in his bedroom.”

Beatrice felt her temper rise but strived to remain calm. “I’m sure they’re just that. Rumors.”

“Are you sure?”

Gabe stepped in front of Beatrice and glared at Kelly. “You’re done.”

“Who’s this? A bodyguard or a new lover?”

“Goodbye, Ms. Winters. I’m not doing this here.” Beatrice’s tone was somber as she pushed past the reporter. Gabe enveloped her protectively in his arms as he led her to the car and deposited her into the passenger seat.

Heavy gloom descended upon her. She hadn’t really mourned Eric’s death. Their relationship was so short, so full of drama, and always in the tabloids, it didn’t feel real. But death was as real as it got.

Gabe got in beside her. He cursed softly when he saw her face. “Don’t let the reporter get to you.”

She sighed in resignation. “It just suddenly hit me. He was a real part of my life, however short. Now he’s gone. He had so much going for him. ”

Gabe didn’t respond. He just started the car and pulled away.

Kelly Winters put the finishing touches on her article and sent it to her editor.

She had a couple of high-profile stories that had put her firmly on her boss’s favorite list. One was the sex scandal involving a Russian diplomat.

But it was her coverage of the drama involving Titanium Rose’s lead guitarist, Eric Stone’s relationship to DC “it” girl Beatrice Porter and his untimely death that had caught public interest. It was a shame the snooty Ms. Porter didn’t want to play the grieving ex-girlfriend.

She seemed to have moved on pretty quickly.

Kelly wondered what that stuck-up redhead had going for her.

Sure she was beautiful, but so were hundreds of other DC socialites, but she always seemed to have the handsomest men at her beck and call.

What the hell was up with that? That man she was with today looked like more than just a bodyguard.

The protectiveness was more personal than professional, and damn if he didn’t look smoking hot in a suit.

The bruises on his face only added to his mystery and dangerous attractiveness.

The sound of the cleaning cart rattled by in the hallway. It was almost 10:00 p.m. and the office was mostly deserted. Time to go home. She turned off her laptop. She wasn’t taking it home tonight. She deserved a break. Maybe she should go to a bar and meet a guy like Beatrice’s man.

Where does she find men like him?

Kelly waved goodbye to the cleaning lady and stepped into the elevator.

It was a straight descent to the underground parking garage.

The elevator doors opened to the cold concrete and flickering lights of the parking level.

Her heels clattered noisily. There was a distant sound of a car’s squealing tires turning a corner, and the faint fumes of burnt fuel reached her nose.

A man in a trench coat appeared a few steps ahead, walking toward her.

He was extremely attractive. A business suit peeked from under his coat, and he was carrying a briefcase.

The man’s eyes fell upon her, dark and intense.

Her reporter’s instincts trilled a warning in her head.

“Good evening,” Kelly said in greeting.

The man jerked his chin in response as he passed her.

A gut reaction made her turn, but she was suddenly held immobile in a tight embrace. Objects landed on the floor, hers or her attacker’s she didn’t know. She felt a prick on her neck. She faded steadily into oblivion.