Unravel Me

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Unravel Me Page 13

by Lynn Montagano


  Shrugging, he grinned sheepishly. “Anything is possible.”

  “Ugh, you are so infuriating sometimes,” I exclaimed, shoving him onto his back so I could straddle him. “I. Love. You. Get it through that stubborn ginger skull of yours.”

  “Put your claws away, kitten. I’m wading into new territory with you. However, and let me make myself crystal clear, you have been eternally etched upon my mind and on my heart since the night we met. That is where life as I now know it began. As far as I’m concerned, it has no end. I loved you before you fell into my arms. I will love you until I take my last breath.”

  Captivated by his words and unwavering resolve, I trembled. The skin warmed on my arm as he caressed it slowly.

  “Seems I’ve found a way to make you speechless, Meyers.”

  “It won’t—”

  With great quickness and agility, Alastair flipped me onto my back, straddled me and pinned my arms against the floor. “You were saying?”

  “Always have to be on top, don’t you?” I grinned salaciously.

  “Figuratively? Yes. With you? Frequently.”

  “Control freak.”

  A lopsided grin spread easily, brightening his face. “I haven’t heard any complaints so far.”

  “I’d like to log my first, then.”

  “Would you?” He lifted an eyebrow. “By all means. Far be it for me to have a dissatisfied customer.”

  I wriggled out of his grasp and sat up. He knelt in front of me, leveling an amused stare in my direction. The change in his demeanor from just a few minutes ago was lightning fast. Determined to keep things light and playful, I grinned.

  “My boyfriend—”

  “You have a boyfriend?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s a shame. I rather fancy you. Break up with him.”

  I laughed. “Can’t do that.”

  “No? Maybe you need some convincing.” He leaned forward and planted a lush, wet kiss on my mouth. “Change your mind yet?”

  “Sorry, mate.”

  “Wow.” His hearty laugh filled the room. “You’re stuck on him, then? Who is this wanker?”

  I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “He is my best friend, the other half of my heart, the love of my life and the best shag this side of the Atlantic.”

  “He sounds like a lucky man,” he said, nuzzling his nose against mine.

  “He is.”

  “Your modesty is earth shattering.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  “Ah, you’re a bossy one. He can have you then.”

  Smiling, I shoved my fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to mine. Our lips moved together effortlessly.

  “We should eat the pizza before it gets cold,” he said, nibbling on my neck.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Stop the presses.” Cocking his head to the side, he grinned. “Best shag this side of the Atlantic?”

  All talk of food ceased. Skipping dinner had never been so much fun.

  * * *

  The coffee shop bustled with people popping in for an after work caffeine jolt. I sat at one of the small tables waiting for Rachel to arrive. She’d left me half a dozen messages throughout the day so I figured it would be best to get this annoyance out of the way. I crossed my legs carefully, mindful of the delicious soreness lingering between them. Last night’s dinner date still had me floating on cloud nine.

  Humid air swirled through the cafe as Rachel walked through the doors. She saw me and made her way over to the table.

  “Thanks for meeting with me,” she breathed, sitting down. Her usual confidence seemed shaken.

  “Sure.”

  Tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, she leaned forward. “When was the last time you spoke to Nathan Greyson?”

  “Shouldn’t you know,” I lashed out. “That’s what you’re getting paid for, right?”

  Taken aback by my animosity, Rachel frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh please. I’ve known about this little arrangement all along. Don’t play dumb with me.”

  “I really have no idea what you’re talking about. Those photos of you with him at dinner were emailed to me anonymously. You know, like a tip. I only ran the story because I’d seen you out with him the week before.” A little smirk crossed her glossy lips. “If you date high profile men, expect to see yourself in the gossip columns.”

  I sipped my iced coffee, processing what she’d said.

  “Listen,” she continued, “your love life isn’t a high priority on my list of things. I wanted to talk to you about something else. So when was the last time you talked to Senator Greyson’s son?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Nobody has seen or heard from him since last week. As far as I know, you’re the last person he was with.”

  My mind raced as I worked hard to keep a neutral expression on my face. Nathan’s whereabouts weren’t a major concern of mine but if he’d fallen off the radar…

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I shrugged. “He sat with me at the restaurant for a few minutes then left. I was having dinner with a friend. He took it upon himself to sit down when she went to the bathroom.”

  “Oh. I was under the impression it was something more.”

  I snorted. “Of course you were. That anonymous tip you got was chock full of facts, wasn’t it?”

  Sitting up a little straighter, Rachel regained some of her confidence. “I don’t appreciate being in the middle of whatever feud you have with your ex. He tells me one thing, you tell me another. I get anonymous emails daily from God knows who enticing me with some huge scandal that involves you.”

  She stopped short, aware that she’d let something slip. I froze, unable to tame the erratic beating of my heart.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The only response I received was a shake of her head. Panic closed my throat, cutting off the necessary flow of oxygen.

  “Someone has it out for you, Lia. I don’t know who it is or what they have but they seem to think it’ll destroy you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I sat in the cafe long after Rachel left trying to get my thoughts under control. The first thing I had to do was find Nathan. It certainly wasn’t like him to drop off the face of the earth like this. As I gathered my belongings, I noticed Paxton keeping a watchful eye on me by the entrance. This isn’t going to be easy.

  I walked out into the wall of humidity and made my way back to the station. Paxton was no doubt following me on foot. He’d parked the SUV in a small public lot across from my building and probably sat there all day. My car was still at home, thanks to Alastair’s proclamation that I had to be driven to and from work every day.

  Air conditioning slammed against my heated skin in welcome relief when I walked into the main lobby. My reprieve was brief though.

  “Lia.”

  Alastair’s voice echoed through the expansive atrium. His presence dominated all the other sights and sounds that surrounded us. I gritted my teeth, mentally preparing for what I had to do.

  “Hey.”

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, tilting my chin up.

  “No. I need a favor.”

  He lifted a brow. “What kind of favor?”

  “I need to go to Windermere.” I stared at him, searching for a reaction. He narrowed his eyes but remained expressionless. “I need to go on my own.”

  “No,” he responded flatly.

  “Yes, Alastair,” I said as calmly as I could. “I won’t be long.”

  People were milling about the lobby, slowly walking toward the exit. The acoustics in this place would make for one hell of a show if I raised my voice. I had to work really hard to keep my emotions in check. It wasn’t easy when a suspicious, stony glare was being leveled in my direction.

  “Paxton will take you.”

  “He can’t. I have to go by myself.”

  “Where exactly
is it that you’re going?” he asked in menacingly calm tone.

  “The Greyson estate.”

  I said it so matter-of-factly I think it shocked both of us. For a split second I thought he might lose his cool. A tremor of anger streaked through his statuesque façade. We stood smack dab in the middle of the atrium, eyes locked in determination.

  Placing my hands on his chest, I leaned closer. “It’s a gated community. They know me and my car. Showing up with Paxton will only delay—”

  “I’m coming with you,” he snapped.

  “No, you’re not.”

  His chest rose in a deep, heavy sigh as he fought to remain in control. My only saving grace at the moment was the fact we were standing in a very public place. Locking his fingers around my wrists, he pushed them down in a firm, slow motion. “We’re not doing this here. Come with me.”

  I let him lead me out to the small lot and climbed into the SUV. Silence flooded the interior as Paxton drove through the evening traffic. Apprehension and displeasure seeped from Alastair no matter how hard he fought to keep it locked behind his shield. I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. The muscle twitched.

  “I know you hate this. So do I. I promise, this will be the one and only time I have to go there.”

  Deftly unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding closer to me, Alastair forced me to look at him. His fingers pressed into the flesh of my cheeks. “Why are you running to him?”

  “I’m not,” I whimpered, unable to concentrate under the irate jade glow in his eyes. “I would never.”

  Seeing him swathed in a possessive, jealous rage triggered my disdain and repulsion for men who behaved this way. I wasn’t helping matters by adding fuel to his inferno.

  “Tell. Me. Why,” he ordered.

  Holding that stare was not easy. As angry as he was I could also see his fear. “Rachel, the tabloid reporter, was being paid to follow me. Or so he claimed. He says he knows who’s paying her. I just want this whole thing to go away.”

  “Who is it?”

  Panic streaked through me, paralyzing my heart. I couldn’t say it.

  “Amelia, tell me.”

  Tears sprang from the corners of my eyes. They burned my cheeks in their rapid descent. “Your uncle,” I whispered, nearly choking on the hot lump stuck in my throat.

  Alastair released my face, exhaling as though he’d been punched in the gut. The onslaught of emotion was short-lived. Steeling his feral gaze, he turned his attention toward Paxton. “Drop her off at her flat then take me to the hotel.” He looked at me. “You are not to go anywhere, do you understand?”

  “But I—”

  “Do not argue with me,” he shouted. “For fuck’s sake Lia, do as I say for once.”

  Emotionally drained, I sank back into the leather seat and rode the rest of the way to my apartment silent. An unbearable weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved to have finally told him. Running my eyes over his immobile exterior, I studied the lines of his profile. He was unreachable. He kept his eyes fused to the back of the driver’s seat. His only movement was a slight fidgeting with his cufflinks.

  I reached out to touch him, wanting to feel him against me. His body stiffened before I made contact. Pulling my hand away, I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes.

  I’d lost him to thoughts only he could see.

  * * *

  The quiet in my apartment was so heavy and suffocating I couldn’t breathe. Not knowing when or if I’d see him again chipped away at my heart. If I hadn’t been so stupid, this would never have happened.

  Curling up on the couch, I hugged a pillow close and regretted it immediately. Alastair’s scent engulfed me. I buried my face in the pillow and cried.

  * * *

  “This legal matter is turning into a nightmare.” Bruce rubbed his eyes and sighed. I sat in his office along with Cynthia, Vance and Jeanie. “Not only is the guy not the alleged murderer, he’s not even a suspect anymore,” he continued.

  The woes of the wrongly worded story weren’t going away any time soon. Jeanie shifted in her chair, shooting me a dirty look.

  “Maybe if people paid more attention to detail,” she huffed.

  I ground my teeth, willing myself not to lash out at her.

  “We all missed it, Jeanie,” Bruce said, giving her a look. “Now we all have to fix it. This attorney isn’t backing down. He says his client’s name was slandered and now he’s unable to work or go out in public without people hounding him. Apparently, this guy hasn’t left his house.”

  “What does he want?” Vance asked.

  “I’ll do another on-air apology,” Cynthia said. “What else is there?”

  “They want a million dollars for emotional distress and damages.”

  A chorus of disbelief rang out in Bruce’s office. Cynthia stood up and paced the room.

  “Are they high?” she exclaimed. “It was a missed word. We didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Bruce nodded, rubbing his eyes again. “I know. Everyone knows that, even the damned lawyer. But that’s what his client wants. Our legal team is working out some sort of settlement.” He paused, looking around at each one of us. “He also wants whoever was responsible for writing it to be fired and the producers suspended without pay.”

  I sat up straight, shocked. Jeanie’s mouth dropped open.

  “Jesus Christ,” Vance muttered. “You’re not going to do that, are you?”

  Leaning back in his creaky chair, Bruce shrugged. “I don’t want to. We have to wait it out and see what legal comes up with. Until then, do your jobs and do them well.”

  We left his office in a quiet, single file line. Take us out of the newsroom and we’d pass rather nicely for a funeral procession. Only Cynthia simmered in anger. She stalked back to her desk and immediately made a phone call. I sat heavily in my chair dreading the rest of the day. Sydney didn’t make a move to say anything. She continued writing and offered small smiles of solidarity.

  I forced all the unpleasantness to the pit of my stomach and powered through the afternoon. I didn’t even stop for lunch. If I worked hard enough and fast enough the time would fly, right? Sort of. Sitting in the control room was like being at an oasis. The crew left me alone for the most part and the only human interaction I had was with Cynthia and Vance. The closer the red digital numbers crept to six-thirty, the more I smiled internally. Tonight was Stephanie’s party and I couldn’t wait to let loose and have a great time.

  Thankful to be done with this annoyance of a workday, I drove home singing at the top of my lungs. For reasons known only to the enigmatic British guy in my life, I was free to drive myself to and from work today. Whatever he’d rushed off to do last night required him to bring Paxton with him. I didn’t even care. I wasn’t going to let anything spoil my best friend’s special night.

  I wanted to look great for the party. It might enhance my efforts to feel great as well. The new dress I’d bought certainly helped. The slate gray looked amazing against my sun-kissed skin. Tousling my hair a bit, I let it fall naturally on my shoulders in big, soft waves. I grinned as I slipped into a pair of sparkling gray high heels. Alastair will love these.

  Giving myself one final glance in the mirror, I nodded in approval and dashed off to meet Stephanie.

  * * *

  Scores of people dressed to impress were lined up outside the main entrance of the dark brick building. Stephanie was chatting with one of the bouncers at the door.

  “Yay, you’re here,” she squealed, running over. “Come on. Marcus says everything’s all set up for us upstairs.”

  She grabbed my wrist and pulled me in her overly excited you’re-going-to-miss-all-the-fun-if-you-don’t-come-now way. A dizzying mash up of rock and hip-hop bounced off the dark cherry wood walls. The space was intimate and dimly lit, giving off a lavish vibe that screamed ‘exclusivity.’ High-backed, plush leather couches lined the wall of the VIP section. The amber-lit c
urved bar was just a quick walk to our right.

  I loved the feel of this place. The decor and lighting projected power and prestige but in a non-threatening way. For a split second I wondered if this was what Alastair’s house would feel like if he injected the softer side of his personality into it.

  A two-tiered cake decorated with pink, brown and white stripes, and flanked by a sugary pair of edible hot pink heels, sat between several bottles of top shelf alcohol on the table near the leather couch. Stephanie grabbed my arm when she noticed it.

  “Did you make that?” she asked.

  I laughed. “No. I wish.”

  “It’s gorgeous. I almost don’t want to eat it.”

  “The cake is pink champagne flavored.”

  “Shut up,” she exclaimed. “Where did you order it from?”

  “That little bakery we always walk by in Altamonte. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”

  “It does, lass,” a male voice wrapped in a Scottish accent answered. “I’ve already licked the frosting.”

  We both spun around, shocked to see Darren standing behind us.

  “MacCourty,” Stephanie yelled, throwing her arms around his neck. “What are you doing here?”

  “I never miss a party, you know that,” he laughed. “Besides, I wanted to hang out with my new flatmate to see if we were compatible.”

  “I had no idea you were coming.” She turned to me. “Were you in on this?”

  I just smiled and shook my head.

  “This was a covert operation,” Darren grinned. “The only ones who knew were yours truly and Alastair.”

  Stephanie and I both looked at him.

  “I was going to tell you, Lia,” he continued, “but Holden said you’d accidentally slip up and spill the beans.”

  “Oh he did, did he?” I folded my arms, smirking. “Such a smart ass.”

  “Where is he, anyway?” Stephanie asked.

  I shrugged. “Probably still holed up in his little office.”

  “Call him and tell him to get his ginger ass over here. It’s Friday night and he should be living it up with the rest of us, not pushing paper or whatever the hell it is that he does.”

  “Can I quote you on that? ‘Get your ginger ass over here’ by decree of Stephanie?”

 

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