His body grounded her like nothing else, and as she lazily caressed his back, she felt him relax.
Reality lurked in the back of her brain, reminding her there was no happy ending for her, only a reprieve in this storm with an unknown ally that her body and heart would likely never forget.
Chapter Fifteen
Sam wassurprised he’d slept; his system was so revved. He remembered how his body almost shut down when he came in Orla’s embrace. Exhausted, he’d never felt so at peace in his life, although this serenity would only last but a fleeting moment. His last clear memory before falling asleep had been turning on his back, keeping the still blindfolded Orla tight against him, and raising the sheet to cover them both.
Three hours later, when he woke, they were still in the same position, and if he could’ve, Sam would have remained there, and woken her with another round of wild sex, but the pause was over.
It took some doing to untangle himself from Orla, and as she remained still, it proved she was even more tired than she’d let on.
After a much-needed shower, Sam put his suit on, and mask in hand, went to check on her. She’d moved on the bed, rolling to her belly, her hand outreached where he’d been lying, maybe trying to touch him. Or maybe not. It was difficult to know what the woman was thinking or what she intended to do.
In her sleep, the rag masking her eyes had undone itself, and if she opened her eyes right then, she’d see his face.
To be honest, she’d seen his face at the party, only without knowing he was the vigilante. As he took one last glance at her body deliciously outlined by the white cotton sheet, Sam slid his fingers in the side pocket of his vest and touched Orla’s pendant. He’d done it so many times since he’d found the jewel, rubbing it like a good luck charm. He knew he should give it back to her but postponed the moment.
Closing the bedroom door behind him, he went back to the workstation to see Devin on the computer.
Without acknowledging Sam, the hacker pointed to the side table. “Coffee and pastries. Thought you’d need some fuel. I see by the way you’re walking your bruises are a tad better, although I’d keep a painkiller or two in my pocket if I were you.” He pressed a few more keys, spun his chair and stopped to look at Sam with a quirked eyebrow and an annoying expression on his face. “Whoa! Did you do the big reveal? Was it during or after the mattress tango? If I’d been in your shoes, I would’ve waited until after, so when she saw your ugly face, it was too late, and you’d already done the deed. Is that what happened?”
Sam was tempted to dump his coffee on Devin’s lap but refrained, as he needed him, and half the time he wasn’t that bad, like a low-grade itch. “No, she didn’t see my face.”
The sudden lack of expression or comment from his friend wasn’t usual. Seconds ticked by before he finally nodded. “Probably for the better. It’s not forbidden but highly discouraged. Lance would’ve been pissed too. I guess he knows or suspects, but knowing the man, he thinks it’s a one-time thing. And the clock is ticking. You’ll be stepping down soon, and another vigilante will take your place.”
Sam frowned at the words, but especially at the tinge of sadness that went through him. It was the one downside to what they were doing. How could they bring someone, anyone, in on this? It had never been officially discussed, only deeply frowned upon by Lance and most members of the team. How would anyone truly accept what they did and live with the dangers and risks that came with it?
With Orla, lust wasn’t in question; Sam would be happy to be buried deep inside her from sundown to sunup. And strangely, if he was going to settle down with anyone, it would be her. Her sharp mind, dedication, and courage were qualities he admired and were increasingly less common in the world they lived. But a future?
“Man, if you were envisioning a happily ever after with her, better cut that out right now, smother any feelings you have for her, and her for you.”
Sam sighed and hitched a hip on the worktable. Devin was right. He’d joined Lance’s crusade because he needed it—a quest for his own purpose. A thief, and a criminal, he’d accepted living his life in the shadows, just as he accepted that dark part of himself that was hidden deep inside and would be there until his last breath. Orla Karlsen was a seeker of truth, of justice. And not the type of justice he dispensed when wearing the vigilante’s suit. He’d found the thin line that kept his soul and morale from sinking completely, but that line wasn’t wide enough for two. “Yeah, I get it. About what happened with Orla and me, did you tell him what happened? And the team?”
Devin nodded. “Apart from you two sleeping in the same room, everything. Sloane went to Orla’s apartment with Joshua to see if there was any hint on who was there. Nothing. Nothing was touched, no traces of anything, or anyone, apart from Orla.”
“Yeah, I guessed as much. If their goal was the briefcase, they followed the GPS.”
There was movement behind him, and Sam took one last look at Devin before putting his mask on.
Even dressed, Orla had a sexy tousled look about her that made him want to pull her back into the bedroom, but his dick wasn’t making the decisions anymore. That window was closed for good.
It was clear her first stop had been the bathroom, but with both of them at the control center, she wasn’t the type of woman not to immediately jump into the fire. “Any news?”
“The computer is still searching for Black. I’m not the only one capable of shutting down cameras in this city, it seems. And I’m now obsessed with what was in that briefcase.”
Orla took a piece of pastry and took a big bite, thinking as she chewed. “At this rate, we won’t be able to stop the spread of Phantom. We may have had a respite with Black’s kidnapping, but that doesn’t mean that White will stop the process and wait.”
Sam nodded. “I think we’re too late for that. Too bad we don’t have any solid leads, no real threads to pull. I have to wait for the drug to start hitting the streets and then backtrack from a user to the distributer.”
Devin looked at Orla before angling his head in his usual thinking pose. “Well, we have a couple of options, but none of them guarantees success or are risk-free. If I were you, I’d try to find out what’s happening at Maximon while one head is missing and drive around with that empty briefcase in my trunk. If you can’t get to them, have them come to you.”
Sam winced behind his mask. Those were interesting options, if only they knew who was after them. Orla, on the other hand, was clearly considering both options. No surprise there.
Before she could open her mouth to suggest heading to Maximon headquarters, Sam cut her off. “Too late for that option. And may I remind both of you that even if they were legitimate, someone asking questions wouldn’t go down well. I know Orla can check it out, but it’s not as if they’d reveal anything significant. On the contrary, they’ll realize she knows more than she’s supposed to and immediately sees her as a threat to be eliminated.”
“Sheis standing right here and is listening to everything you’re saying.”
Pissing her off didn’t bother him, but Sam didn’t want her to charge in out of spite. “Orla, I’m not telling you not to do it, but think. We have limited resources and need to make sure we stir the right hornets’ nest. What about we have Devin here dig more into Maximon, try to get clearer information on who Black and White are, and who they’re dealing with?”
