Roman’s face iced over. “Leave it, Gus. Don’t get involved.”
She was right back where she’d been at the beginning of her investigation, only now Kemp wouldn’t touch her with a fifteen-foot pole because Roman had seemingly staked his claim. He’d shoved her in a corner, expecting her to be a good girl and accept it.
He didn’t know her at all.
Gus scoffed. She still had a few aces up her sleeve. At least she hadn’t given Roman everything she’d collected. She still had the top few slips from the sticky pad he’d written on. At her first glance, it looked as if he’d jotted down numbers and an address. She would run a pencil over the indentions and see if she could find out where Kemp intended to go. Roman could go hang.
But the fact that Roman was cutting her out left her even more bitter.
“Tell me something. Does Everly know what’s going on? Is Lara involved? Is Holland even now being taught the club’s secret handshake since she’s married to my brother and therefore ‘trustworthy?’” That hurt, too. She’d known these men for far longer, but apparently until a female fucked one and promised undying devotion in her wedding vows, she wasn’t part of the family.
It didn’t matter that, under different circumstances, Gus would have given birth to the group’s first baby. No one cared that she’d loved Roman for far longer than anyone else had even known their spouse.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted.
“Then what’s it like? Tell me, oh mighty and grand Roman Calder, what does it take to get on the inside? I grew up with you guys, protected you. Hell, I introduced a couple of you to sex, but that doesn’t buy me a damn thing, does it?”
His face flushed. His jaw tightened. She realized she’d finally scored a direct hit.
“This isn’t a game.”
“Everything’s a game with you, and you don’t care how much you have to cheat to win. You promised me.” She retreated a step. “But hey, if we’re reneging on our promises, then let’s go back on all of them. You go and talk to Zack, and I’ll deal with Mad’s murder my own way. I’m sure you’ll have Kemp in custody, interrogating the hell out of him in the next five minutes, so you don’t have to protect me anymore. Bye.”
While Roman was distracted by Kemp’s questioning, she would try whatever address she could lift from the notes on that sticky pad and see if she could determine what Kemp might have sought there.
Roman’s shoulders squared and he glared. “You will stay in this room, right here with me. That’s the end of the conversation.”
“The hell I will. You can’t keep me a prisoner here.”
He leaned into her personal space, dark eyes delving and menacing. “Watch me.”
“Fuck you.” She stormed toward the door, threw it open, and ran into a massive mountain of muscle in a designer suit.
“Can I help you with something, Ms. Spencer?” the Secret Service agent asked.
She gave him her sweetest smile. “You could escort me back to my room, Special Agent Johnson. I would appreciate that very much.”
The enormous man frowned and looked back to Roman, obviously for permission. Not surprisingly, he addressed her a moment later with resolution on his face. “The president would prefer you stay here, so this is your room now. He’s concerned about some dangerous elements in the city. Our intelligence briefing earlier this evening has everyone concerned, so we’re upping security around the core team. Don’t worry, though. We’ll keep you safe. Could I have the staff bring you something? Some tea perhaps?”
She didn’t need tea. “I’d like a sharp knife—serrated would be nice—and a tarp, please. There’s no reason to ruin a perfectly good Aubusson rug. It’s innocent. The rug, that is. My victim isn’t. He deserves to feel a lot of pain.”
Roman rushed over and nudged her from the doorway. “Don’t mind her. She’s upset because The Bachelor isn’t airing here in the UK and I spoiled the ending for her. Please let Sandra inside the living area when she arrives with Ms. Spencer’s luggage.”
With a saccharine smile, he closed the door. Then he backed her against the frame.
“You’re really having Sandra bring my stuff to your room?” Gus demanded.
If he was serious about locking her in his room, she was going to need that knife.
“I told you. You’re staying here until we head back to the States and that’s the end of it. You can try to get around me but, as you’ve seen, I’ll ensure you stay here tonight and every night we’re in London.”
“You fucking bas—”
“This doesn’t have to be contentious.” He moved closer. “What if I promise I’ll keep you up to speed on everything I find out about Special Agent Kemp?”
She could see exactly how that would go. He would tell her what he wanted her to know, nothing more. He would ensure that everything else would be classified out of her reach. “And you expect me to trust you? Go fuck yourself, Roman.”
“That’s not the way I planned tonight to end, baby.” His voice had gone low, his gaze dark with desire as he braced his palm on the doorframe above her head and leaned close.
She couldn’t ignore his heat and pull.
Her whole body went rogue. Traitorous. She had a very, very stupid vagina because all he had to do was say a few words in that gravelly voice and send her a seductive stare, and she softened up. Her hormones—also very foolish—started pumping through her blood, making their demands known. Her nipples perked up.
Gus crossed her arms over her chest. “You have got to
be kidding me.”
“I can’t stay away from you. I know you hate me, but you have to admit we do one thing together exceptionally well.”
She didn’t argue with him and she didn’t retreat. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he unnerved her. “I thought you were going to talk to Zack.”
He closed his eyes, jaw clenched. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t. I’m trying to do what’s right for you. What’s right for Mad. Give me one good reason not to tell Zack everything right now. What if Kemp is supposed to kill him in London and we didn’t speak up? Could you live with yourself if he succeeds? I can’t.”
Was he giving her a chance to play this game her way? Did she dare trust him? Maybe not, but he’d backed her into a corner, and her options were limited. She could either roll the dice with the sexy bastard who had once burned her or stay in the dark, never avenging Mad’s murder.
Shitty choices.
“All right. Kemp is going somewhere day after tomorrow. He requested leave. Do you remember what he said when he was talking on the phone? He seemed to think everything would be quiet until he got back. If you go to Zack and have Kemp arrested, he can’t do whatever he’s planned. Which may tell us what the hell he’s up to. And good luck getting him to talk.”
“We have experts,” Roman murmured. But his words were offhanded. Instead, his attention—and his stare—had wandered to her chest. He sidled even closer.
Why did every cell of her body heat up the minute she was alone with Roman? Irrelevant. She had to focus, work with him or sit this investigation out. She could do it…even if he had seduction on his mind. Seriously, two could play that game. Yes, he’d manipulated her before, was probably trying to do it again. Why couldn’t she do the same to him?