Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
"You've got to sleep, boss."
"How do you know I'm not sleeping?
"Your breathing. Look, I think I've seen an armchair in one of the other cellars; I'll spend…"
"It's not you!", Ilsa snapped, probably a lot more vehemently than she had intended. "How could I sleep? Ames is held captive, Chance is under cover in that thug's mansion and we've got no word from Winston at all."
"Chance will be at the Charles Bridge in four hours, that's when we'll get rid of the thug. Then we'll get Ames and figure out what happened to Winston. But for all that we need to be rested. Sleep."
She fell silent, but of course she was still wide awake. Shivering.
Sighing, Guerrero reached out, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. For a second she resisted, but then her body curled against his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her muscles relaxed. In less than a minute she was gone.
Ilsa's hair still faintly smelt of the expensive shampoo she always used. Not too long ago he had spent an idle afternoon figuring out what brand it was. Mere curiosity, really.
Actually buying a bottle, however, hadn't been about curiosity.
Yes, the idea was that one lonely night or morning he'd open it, pretend she was there…
So far his loyalty towards Chance, his professionalism and his self-control had held up. It was still untouched, hidden in his bathroom cabinet.
But now Ilsa was lying in his arms, radiating softer warmth than he had ever imagined.
Oh great, now he couldn't sleep.