Bare Facts by Katherine Garbera

“This isn’t going to work.”
    “What isn’t?”
    “You protecting me,” she said, taking a stab in the dark. She was beginning to suspect that the only reason he’d changed his mind was so he could keep her safe from his enemy.
    “It’s working fine so far.”
    Charity crossed her arms over her chest, but she still held her weapon in one hand. Instead of looking pouty, she looked like she was getting ready to shoot someone.
    “I’m the boss,” he reminded her.
    “You take a little too much pleasure in that.”
    “It’s the only way I can win with you.”
    She uncrossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, studying him. “Is that important?”
    He arched one eyebrow at her.
    “You can be such a man sometimes.”
    “That’s because I am one. Henry, do you notice anyone behind us?”
    “No, sir. But I was doing some evasive maneuvering early to try to catch the Spider. I’ll slow down now.”
    “I don’t want you to drive directly to Mr. Williams’s jet’s hangar when we get to the airport.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “What are you thinking?” Daniel asked.
    “That my team needs time to get into place and see who follows us if Henry’s skillful driving didn’t warn them off.”
    Daniel stroked his thumb over the nub of his forefinger. He had absolutely no idea what Sekijima would do next. He hated that his old friend had the advantage on him—Sekijima knew him better than anyone. Knew everything about him from the time he was a young boy.
    “What are you thinking?” Charity asked, her voice soft and low, startling him out of the past.
    He shook his head. “Nothing important.”
    “Daniel?”
    “Hmm?”
    “I’m never going to lie to you, even when it might be easier than telling the truth.”
    “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
    “I expect the same from you,” she said. “If we’re both going to stay alive we have to have trust between us.”
    He had no response for her. He’d trust as much as he was able to—which wasn’t a lot. He just didn’t trust. Even with Sekijima he hadn’t. But then, the Yakuza had bred him to trust only himself. In business he’d survived and prospered because he always played his cards close to the vest.
    “Can you do that?” she asked.
    “No.”
    “Is it me? Do you think I’m not trustworthy?”
    Charity was the kind of woman every man dreamed of having by his side. The kind of woman who’d be a loyal and fierce partner. She was good-looking and had the kind of manners that money just couldn’t buy. He knew—he’d tried to.
    She was so much better than he was on so many levels, and he hated that his inability to trust had been interpreted to mean something else by her.
    “It’s not you I don’t trust. I thought I already told you that.”
    “You did. But a lot has happened since then. I think we need to communicate better so we’re not missing any clues.”
    “If I think you need to know something, I’ll tell you.”
    “Like you did with Sekijima’s name,” she said, almost whispering. He knew the sound of her voice didn’t carry beyond the two of them.
    “Yes.”
    “What were you just thinking about?” she asked. “And don’t say nothing —you looked too fierce.”
    “Maybe I was thinking that you needed a strong hand,” he said, capturing her wrist and rubbing his thumb over the inside of it.
    “Strong hand?”
    “I didn’t stutter.”
    “You’d better be prepared for a heck of a fight if you try to discipline me.”
    “Under the right circumstances, I bet you’d be amiable.”
    She shook her head. “Why does everything with you come back to sex?”
    “Why do you always think it does?” he countered.
    But he’d moved closer on the seat. He wanted her. And he wanted her safe. Already he was planning a way to make sure she was out of harm’s way when he challenged Sekijima. He’d probably have to do something that she’d find unforgivable to cause her to drop her guard.
    He studied her fine features,