by Sorcha Grace
I had a horrible migraine. I hadn’t had one since right after Jace died. The vague thought that I should probably get up and take something for it crossed my mind, but I couldn’t summon the energy. Instead, I whimpered a little, then rolled over and closed my eyes. I fell back asleep, but it wasn’t a restful sleep. I dreamed of plates of bloody organs and of being trapped in a darkroom, unable to escape.
Hours later, I opened my eyes again and expected to feel my head throbbing. But the pain had finally, thankfully, dissipated. I turned on the light again and checked my watch. Crap. It was almost five. I’d slept the entire day, but at least I finally felt better. I obviously needed the rest. I mean, after the events of the last few days, who wouldn’t? Jetting back and forth to the Caribbean for a sex marathon, being locked in my pantry by a mystery intruder, having all eyes on me at a society function thanks to the heaping helping of bloody organs someone decided to serve me for dinner, all the while being shadowed by security and living at my new boyfriend’s multi-million dollar penthouse, kind of under protest.
It was all...exhausting. I threw my arm over my eyes and groaned. No wonder I’d slept for nearly twenty hours.
But I had to get up. I threw back the blankets and stood, then headed to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. I needed all of William’s seven jet showerheads to rub away some of the aches from my limbs. After, I toweled off and threw on yoga pants and a long-sleeve T-shirt. I swiped my hair into a ponytail and padded out of the master suite. I doubted William was home, but I wanted to call him and let him know I was better, so I headed toward his study and the landline.
Laird must have heard me, because he came bounding down the hallway and excitedly slammed against me, almost knocking me over. “Hey, Laird, how’s my good boy?” I scratched behind his ears while his tail thumped against my legs. Outside the huge windows lining the penthouse I could see it was dark and snow was still falling. I shivered and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. It was then that I caught the most amazing smell coming from the opposite end of the penthouse.
Maybe William was home after all.
I changed course and headed toward the kitchen, my stomach growling, registering its protest of my long hours in bed. I was famished.
I found William in front of his state-of-the-art, eight-burner stainless steel range. He was dressed in old jeans and a white T-shirt with a chef-style apron tied around his waist. He looked so cute. I loved seeing him so relaxed and casual.
He turned from the range and smiled at me. “There’s my beautiful girl. You’re finally up.” He pulled me into his arms and held me close. I couldn’t resist resting my head on his chest and reveling in being clasped by his big muscular biceps. I could feel his heart thumping softly, solidly. He was firm, not to mention warm. On top of that, he smelled delicious—a mixture of his usual scent and whatever he was cooking. “I didn’t go into the office today,” he said against my hair. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I glanced up at him. “Thank you.” I hugged him again, hoping he could feel just how grateful I was for his taking care of me.
“Since I was home, Parker sent over some legal documents I needed to sign. I also asked her to bring your mail. It’s on the desk in my study.”
I’d totally forgotten about my empty mailbox after I’d been locked in my darkroom. “Why do you have my mail?”
“Security’s been picking it up and then testing it for safety reasons. I’m afraid it’s been opened, but I assure you, that wasn’t intended as a violation of privacy. We’re just trying to protect you.”
“I know you are.” And I did, but it didn’t mean I didn’t feel violated. When would all of this be over?
“How do you feel now that you’re up?” he asked
“I’m fine, and thanks for letting me sleep. I haven’t slept like that in forever. I just had this killer headache, and I couldn’t seem to shake it.”
“You clearly needed the rest. It’s been a long week for all of us, Catherine. I guess it just finally caught up with you. But now you’re awake, and just in time for dinner.” He gave me one of his dazzling smiles.
As if on cue, my stomach growled. “What are you making, and can I help? I’m starving.”
He chuckled. “I thought comfort food would go over well tonight.” He stepped back and gestured to the oven. “The bread is about done, and I have Kalamata olives and an assortment of cheeses.” He nodded at the platter on the counter. “There’s salad in the fridge, and I have everything to go for a nice mushroom risotto. Plus, I have fresh berries and whipped cream for dessert. And wine, of course.”
I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. William frowned. “What’s so funny about mushroom risotto?”
“Nothing. It’s just that your idea of comfort food and my idea of comfort food are vastly different.” It was adorable how sensitive he could be about his food.
“What’s your idea?”
“Mac and cheese or a big burrito smothered in cheese and salsa.” Just thinking about food made my stomach rumble again. I was seriously hungry. I hadn’t eaten since...lunch yesterday because dinner had been...
Oh my God. Dinner last night. It all came back. “William, I am so embarrassed about last night. Please tell me I didn’t ruin Abigail’s event. I don’t know what happened, I—” Truth be told I didn’t know how to finish that thought. What had happened?
But William didn’t wait for me to finish. “Stop.” He grasped my hand. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, and don’t worry about my aunt. She isn’t upset. Just worried. We all are. George is already looking into it.”
“George?” I blinked. And then I knew. “Oh no. You think this is all related, don’t you? The break-in, my phone, last night. Is that possible? Couldn’t last night just have been someone’s idea of a sick joke or...or maybe it was a disgruntled waiter? ”
Even as I said it I knew it wasn’t true. There was coincidence and then...there was this. I couldn’t explain away all the strange things that were happening lately. Not any more.
William was quiet for a long moment. His hand in mine was warm and comforting, and then he squeezed my palm and said pretty much exactly what I was thinking. “If it was just the break-in at your condo, Catherine, or just the darkroom, I’d be willing to chalk it up to a random occurrence. But those two events, plus the theft of your phone, the text, and the incident last night. This is all connected, most likely to the pictures we both received and the Wyatt situation.”
He took my other hand. I was glad because I’d started shaking. When he laid it all out like that, it really frightened me. I had tried my best to keep it all at bay and to not lump everything together. I explained the break-in as random, tried to laugh off the security detail, had even managed to convince myself that my phone was in the possession of some klepto high schooler. But when William put it all together, I knew it was more than that.
William seemed to sense my fear because he said, “I don’t want to scare you, but we have to take this seriously. George is working with the FBI, and until this is resolved to my satisfaction, I’m not taking any chances. You’re not taking any chances.”
“What does that mean? What exactly is going on?” If we were going to talk about this, I needed to know everything.
William nodded and released my hand, moving to the oven to stir the risotto. “We should discuss it all. I’ll cook while I talk or the risotto will get clumpy.”
“Okay.” I hopped up on the counter, crossed my arms, and, needing something to do with my hands, popped an olive in my mouth. It was delicious, of course.
I watched William roll his shoulders the way a boxer does before entering the ring. I sincerely hoped he wasn’t preparing for a fight because I didn’t have one in me tonight.
His voice was steady and even. “The first time I learned about the plane wreckage in Alaska was the night of our date at the Art Institute. Our first date.” He tasted the risotto and sprinkled some salt into the pot. �
�That was the call I received in the car. After that call, I was reeling and I know I was an asshole to you. When you left, I worried I’d completely blown my chances with you.” He looked at me and grinned, clearly pleased I was in his kitchen, in his life, now.
I remembered how Minerva had let him in to my condo the next night and he’d surprised me with homemade bucatini with Bolognese sauce to make up for that disastrous first date. But this was the first time I’d heard about that phone call.
“About two weeks later, I received a package at my office with a letter stating that my brother Wyatt was alive, and that, for ten million dollars, I could be reunited with him.”
My jaw dropped as William went back to stirring the risotto. I couldn’t believe all of this had been going on behind the scenes and I had been so totally unaware.
“As I told you, we’ve received a lot of these over the years. They’re usually just ploys to get money, and George makes them go away, but this one...this one was different.” He shook his head as though he was remembering it. “Whoever sent this one knew about the plane wreckage that had been found in Canada. They knew a lot about it, actually.”
He stopped stirring, his spoon resting in the risotto. “And they knew you and I were together. There were photos and clippings about us. The package arrived via courier, and until my security team could come up with something concrete, I wanted you out of Chicago.” He lifted the spoon, tapped it, and reached for an oven mitt.
“So I took you to Napa,” he said as he pulled the bread from the oven. The top was golden brown and the scent made me dizzy with hunger. “But coincidentally, just after we arrived at Casa di Rosabela, the CTSB finished their analysis of the wreckage in Alaska.” He took a bread knife and began slicing the flaky loaf. “Those pieces had been transported to Whitehorse, and I had one chance to see what the investigators had discovered. I know it seems crazy, but I needed to see what was left of that plane. You understand, right?”
I nodded. Of course I did. At least I thought I did.
“That’s when I went to Canada. I’d planned to fly in, view the pieces, and fly immediately back to California. But, of course, the weather didn’t cooperate.” He gave me a rueful look. “And then you left and went back to Chicago.”
I could mostly fill in the rest, but I waited for him to continue. He didn’t. He set the bread aside and stirred the risotto again. It seemed like I should say something, but I didn’t know what. I’d been blindsided. I knew some of this already, but finally all the pieces were fitting together, and the full picture explained so much—about William and his behavior, his situation and mine. I’d always thought if I knew the whole story, I’d be relieved. Instead, I was scared. I hated that he was still been keeping things from me. Now that we were together, all of this impacted me, too. I hated that he didn’t see it that way. It was a lie by omission, the sort of thing William excelled at.
But I could understand why he’d never put it all together for me before. It was... overwhelming and terrifying and... surreal.
I loved William. I really did. But this was fucked up. And now I felt guilty because at the heart of it all, he’d been worried about me, and I hadn’t understood why. I’d thought he was some kind of control freak with a complicated billionaire lifestyle. But that wasn’t it at all—well, that wasn’t all of it.
“I’ve told you before,” William said, adding more broth to the risotto. “I don’t want my shit to fuck up your life. I hate that this is happening, and that despite my security team and all of my goddamned money”—he tossed the spoon down and braced his hands on the counter—“it keeps fucking happening.” He turned to me. “And I hate that you’ve been pulled into this.”
He crossed to me, put his hands on my waist, and looked at me so earnestly. I could see the plea in the clear blue of his eyes.
“Please. I need you to trust me. Don’t think the worst and run away again. Promise me that you’ll give me a chance to explain before you jump to any conclusions. This will be over soon. I love you, and I’ll do whatever is needed to make sure I don’t lose you. To make sure we don’t lose each other.”
I swallowed. It was definitely my turn to say something, to tell him I understood and that I loved him too. To make him a promise. But I was too stunned to speak. He’d never told me so plainly how important I was to him, and even though he wasn’t saying it directly, I understood what he was implying. My life was in danger. And as much as I didn’t want to believe it, it was true. I started to open my mouth to say something, to promise him I would always give him a chance, but then he spoke again.
“That envelope you brought over with the proof sheets? That was the last communication we’ve received. There have been no more letters or packages, no more instructions about how to meet Wyatt or where to send the money. Nothing but silence. And the incidents. The incidents started happening to you and, Catherine, I know they’re intentional. They’re threats. My suspicion is that when I got involved in that wreckage and had the pieces sent to France for analysis, I got too close to something. Whoever is behind this isn’t happy about it. But I’m not going to back down. I need to know the truth.” There was anguish in his stormy eyes now, something I had seen too frequently of late, and he turned back to the range to stir the risotto again.
I didn’t speak. Instead I tried to take it all in, to comprehend what it meant for me, for us. I knew how passionate William was and why he was so unrelenting in his efforts to find out what had happened to his brother and his parents in that plane crash almost twenty years ago. He wanted closure for so many reasons, and I understood that. We’d both experienced painful losses and, though it was a terrible commonality, it really did help me understand him sometimes.
But what I didn’t understand, at all, was his refusal to back down now. If he truly believed someone wanted to hurt me because he was getting too close to the truth about the plane crash everyone thought was a terrible accident, then why wouldn’t he call it all off? Why put us through this? Why risk me?
And then the answer hit me.
Because they meant more to him than I did. He was willing to continue to risk my safety to find the answers that had eluded him since he’d been eleven years old because they were more important than me.
I could feel my heart squeeze in my chest, feel it break just a little. I loved William, and I was certain we belonged together. But I was way less sure that I wanted to be in the middle of whatever this was. This was crazy. For the hundredth time, I wondered why we couldn’t just have a normal relationship.
“Catherine, I know this is a lot to take in. I need to know you’re okay. Are you okay?” William asked, shaking me out of my thoughts. The truth was I was numb, but I nodded. I needed to sit with all of this for a while.
“Good,” he said and gave me a smile. “Can you open the wine?”
I nodded again and spotted the bottle of cabernet on the counter. It was from William’s vineyard, which meant it would be delicious.
By the time I’d poured, the kitchen was filled with the heady aroma of mushrooms and garlic and the warm crusty bread cooling on the counter. William plated the risotto, tossed the salad, and set everything on the table. We sat down to eat. I still didn’t know what to say. I wanted more time to think.
“This is really delicious,” I began, trying to turn the conversation. “I love mushrooms.”
“I thought you’d like it. Oh, before I forget, I have something for you.” He rose and walked out of the room. I held my breath, uncertain whether to be excited or apprehensive. He returned with a small white shopping bag. “This is for you.”
I peeked in the bag and pulled out a box with a new iPhone.
“It’s already been set up with your old number, and your old contacts, email, and calendar have been restored. We turned on GPS, so we’ll be able to find it if it goes missing.”
I met his gaze. “And you’ll be able to find me, too, right?” I smiled tightly. “You’re kind of scaring me. You kno
w that?”
“Yes, we’ll be able to find you, Catherine. It is scary, but security is being stepped up, and you’ll be fine. You will have to make some adjustments for the time being, but I’ll make it as comfortable for you as possible.” William’s face hardened, and his eyes turned that icy shade of blue that signaled he was not willing to negotiate.
“What kind of adjustments?” I asked slowly.
“I’d like you to work out of the penthouse. Your workspace is already set up, but I’ll get you whatever else you need. It’s no problem.”
I shook my head. No, no, no. This wasn’t going to work at all. “I have to meet with my clients. I have a Fresh Market shoot coming up.” I ticked it off on my finger. “And I have to be at Morrison Hotel twice a week until the cookbook project is finished. I signed a contract.”
“We can get you out of that contract. I’ll have Charles take a look at it.”
I held up a hand, stopping him before he could say another word. “I’m not getting out of the contract, William. I want the job. You know how excited I am about it, and Hutch is counting on me. Not to mention, it’s a huge career opportunity. I’m not just going to—to,” I sputtered “walk away from that. Plus, why is my working a problem if Asa drives me and is nearby?”
Instead of answering, William set his fork carefully on the edge of his plate and ran his hands though his hair, tousling it. I loved it when his hair was rumpled like that, and right now I wanted to run my hands through it—then tug it hard and kiss him deeply. I wanted to force him to stop talking about all of this security stuff. I wanted him to make me forget.
I swallowed and sipped my wine. The quick surge of arousal surprised me. I was usually on the edge of coming undone around William, but I hadn’t expected this hit of heat and not right now. I sipped the wine again and watched William thread his fingers through his hair, trying to take control of his frustration.
Finally, he dropped his hands and looked up at me, his eyes still steely but soft around the edges. “We can’t control everyone who goes in and out of Morrison Hotel. Besides the staff, there are produce, liquor, wine, and linen deliverymen there almost every day, not to mention the patrons. It’s a security nightmare. It would be better if you worked out of the penthouse until this is all resolved.”