“Perhaps I’m not interested in speaking to you at all,” Saxon said so coldly that she almost shivered.
The silent one turned to Laken. He had a harder face than his brother. Cold.
“Laken Michaels,” the talkative one said. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you would have better taste in companions.”
Her temper surged at his words. Except for a slight tightening of his shoulders, Saxon gave no reaction to the words.
“And just what would you know about me, Eli Jones?” she replied. She’d obviously guessed right as he didn’t correct her.
“Do you two normally just barge into other people’s homes?” she asked. “I thought you were security consultants; I didn’t realize that gave you the right to forget your manners.”
“Whoever told you that we had manners was lying, sweetheart,” Eli replied in that raspy voice. “And we need to talk to Mr Saxon here about the murder of a sub.”
Murder?
Saxon raised his eyebrows. “Are you accusing me of something, Mr Jones? Should I have my lawyer present?” he asked mockingly.
Eli’s nostrils flared. “Not at all. We merely have a few questions.”
“Tell me, does being a security consultant include having to watch Law and Order reruns in order to practice your lines?” Saxon asked.
Laken bit her lip to stop her smile as Eli and Kellan stiffened.
Saxon sighed. “Relax, gentlemen. No need to get out the rubber hoses. I’ll talk. After I escort Laken home.”
“That’s okay, it’s not that far…” her voice trailed off as he gave her a look that brooked no argument.
Laken swallowed heavily. Yep, she was no match for Joel Saxon. She quickly said goodbye to Eli and Kellan, glad to get away from the growing testosterone levels, and allowed Saxon to walk her home.
See, who said she didn’t know when to give in graciously?
***
Laken moved around like a zombie the next day. Luckily, it was a busy day so she didn’t have much time to think about things. She’d done enough thinking last night to last a lifetime.
All night she’d replayed the run-in with Duncan, the phone call with Ricky and then lunch with Saxon. Why did it seem like she couldn’t move without tripping over a man? She was hardly some femme fatale and yet, Saxon had been flirting with her yesterday, hadn’t he?
Ricky, she knew, wanted to use her. But what was Saxon up to? Was he truly interested in her? He was sexy, gorgeous, smart and successful, and although she couldn’t deny there was some attraction between them, it was only a spark of interest.
Why didn’t she feel more for him?
Because the only man she’d ever loved still held her in his spell.
No matter what she tried to tell herself, she still loved Duncan. Ricky had never made her feel as loved or as safe as Duncan had.
Perhaps she was better off alone. Neither Duncan nor Saxon would truly want her when they saw the scars she bore. Thankfully, most of her visible scars had faded after a year, only two deep tissue scars remained and with the help of some powerful creams they had faded considerably. It was the ones on the inside that took longer to mend.
After she locked the front door to the shop, Laken moved around the room tidying up displays and putting clothes back on hangers.
A bang on the glass door made her jump with a squeal. Berating herself for being such a scaredy-cat, she turned. She frowned as she saw Duncan standing there, arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face.
Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him. He showed no sign of backing down. Instead, he uncrossed his arms slowly and then held up one hand, crooking his finger at her.
The nerve of the man.
Laken raised her brows at him and shook her head. He could arrogantly dictate all he liked. Didn’t mean she had to do what he said, although as his face grew darker, more stern, she felt her stomach quiver with the urge to submit.
“Laken,” he called out. “Either you open this door or I will break it down.”