Still…
Son of a bitch.
I need boots on the ground in order to get to the bottom of this. I can’t be with her twenty-four seven and go out searching for clues about why her brother wants her out of the picture.
I’d pissed Cash off even more when I mentioned my plans to come clean, tell her the truth, as soon as he left.
Then Valerie had to go and say it—how she knew I’d never lie to her.
Goddamn, this is complicated.
I can’t keep her in the dark, but I can’t shatter that trust. Simply remembering little tidbits sends her into a downward spiral. Finding out I lied to her could throw her into a total tailspin, make her so upset she’ll try to leave.
I can’t chance it. Cornaro’s men are looking for her, that’s a given.
Luckily, this place has all the security possible, safeguards for anyone trying to get in or out. I designed it with the latest state-of-the-art tech, even had a virtual consultation with Enguard Security, one of the best agencies on the West Coast.
Too bad all the fancy bells and whistles in the world can’t undo my moral dilemma.
This universe has a sick sense of humor. My choices are feed a chick lies to hold her hostage or tell her the truth and risk her getting killed.
Damn. I need to bring in backup. Get more guys to help, both for watching my house and investigating what’s going on with King Heron Fishing.
Her shaking has eased up, at least, so I relax my hold and wait until she lifts her head. “Doing better?”
She nods.
“Getting hungry?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t know about dinner.”
“Then how about relaxing in the hot tub? I’ll go fire it up and fetch your bathing suit.”
For a second, she just keeps the same glum look on her face, staring at her feet. But I see her features soften, just a crack that says she wants to.
“Come on, Val. You’ll feel like a new woman again. Heat does a body good.”
“Does it work on the mind, too?” She grins slightly. “I guess that sounds nice…”
Unable to resist, I kiss her forehead. Her smile grows.
“Come on.” I lead her to the bedroom and nod toward the bathroom. “I’ll bring your suit to you.”
“Have you always taken care of me like this?” she wonders.
I smile, glad I don’t have to lie for once. “Damn right. Ever since the day we met.”
She blushes slightly but heads for the bathroom. I grab the swimsuit Cash included with the other clothes he’d bought and carry it across the room. I knock, then barely open the bathroom door, and set the suit on the counter. “I’ll go get the tub ready.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I’m relieved by the tone of her voice and head outside, where I switch on the hot tub and its Jacuzzi, and then go to the kitchen. A glass of wine might help her relax more, but that wouldn’t be a good idea in her condition, so I refill her tea and put a bottle of pain relievers on a tray.
She’s already outside when I arrive.
Holy shit.
My dick throbs at the sight of her. If the perfect woman fell down from the sky to sink her siren claws into me like some Greek tragedy, she’d look like Valerie Gerard.
Fuck you, Cash. I’ve got a whole new reason to have words with him.
A one-piece suit, one like my mother wears, would’ve been far more appropriate. Not the hot yellow two-piece she’s wearing. It leaves nothing to the imagination except taking it off her with my teeth.
I’d seen the suit when I’d washed it, yeah, but hadn’t expected it to look so damnably sexy once she’d filled in the top and bottoms.
She’s like a mermaid, all sun-kissed golden-brown skin with her long, dark hair flowing down her back.
I forget to fucking breathe. So I just watch her climb up the steps and into the water, and then swallow a groan as she slips her sweet ass in the water.
If she kills me, I want death by blue balls on my epitaph.
She twists and smiles at me. “Perfect temperature! It’s wonderful in here.”
I finally make my lungs work again and set the tray on the table beside the tub. “Good. I brought you some tea and pain pills.”
Frowning, she asks, “Aren’t you joining me?”
“Sure will, but first I need to prep supper. Let me pull something out of the freezer.”
I thank my lucky stars I’ve got a real excuse. We do need dinner. Steaks, salads, sides, the whole nine yards.
Somehow, though, the only meat I’m really thinking about is the tortured bulge below my beltline.
Seeing too much skin on that woman puts dragon fire through my veins. If things were different, I’d already be in there with her, but I can’t complicate this shit more. I refuse.