by Lara Lacombe
Just the thought of talking to Ben made her blood boil. “I don’t ever want to hear from him again. I can’t believe he did this to me!”
“I know,” Nate soothed. “But if he does call, you need to let me know so we can bring him in for questioning.”
“If you say so,” she replied.
They came to a stop at a door halfway down the hall, their feet making a crunching sound on a colorful coir welcome mat. Nate lifted his hand to knock, but before he made contact with the door, it opened to reveal a slender, dark-haired woman. “Nate!” she said, pulling him into the apartment. “So good to see you!” She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek, then leaned in for a full-bodied hug. “It’s been too long.”
Nate returned her embrace, the muscles in his back contracting as he squeezed her against him. “I know. I’ve missed you, too.”
The woman turned her attention to the doorway. “Please, come in,” she said, gesturing Fiona forward. “I’m Hannah.” She stuck out her hand, and Fiona set the papers on an end table so she could return the gesture.
“Nice to meet you,” Fiona said. “Thanks so much for letting me stay here.”
“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I’m hardly ever here anymore, and it’s silly for the apartment to stay empty all the time.”
Nate rubbed Hannah’s back affectionately, and Fiona tried to ignore the spike of jealousy triggered by his casual touch of another woman. She had no claim over him, and one kiss didn’t give her the right to feel so possessive.
Slinky, apparently sensing he was now in a domestic setting, chose this moment to let out a yowl of frustration. “Oh, you poor thing!” Hannah exclaimed. “That must be your cat.” She took the bag from Nate and crossed the room to set it on the couch. Then she unzipped the bag and pulled the fabric back. Slinky poked his head through the opening, his nose twitching as he glanced around.
“I set up a litter box in the bathroom,” she said, before turning back to face the bag. “He should feel right at home.
“Hey there,” Hannah crooned, extending her hand for the cat to smell. Slinky gave her a cursory sniff, then slowly climbed out of the bag, carefully feeling out each step before fully committing a paw to the act.
“He looks like he’s navigating a minefield,” Nate murmured, his breath warm on her neck.
Fiona jumped. When had he moved to stand behind her? “Sorry,” he said, placing his hand on her lower back in an echo of his earlier gesture. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” She kept her gaze on Slinky, not trusting herself to look at Nate. His hand felt entirely too nice, a warm weight against her body. And that was with her clothes separating their skin—what would it feel like if he touched her without any barriers between them?
“He’s so adorable,” Hannah said, interrupting her thoughts before they could get any more inappropriate. Fiona refocused on Slinky to find that he was now vigorously rubbing his cheek against the coffee table. Apparently satisfied with the new digs, he was wasting no time in claiming everything within sight as his own personal property.
Fiona smiled, happy to see he was settling in so well. Knowing her sweet boy was okay went a long way to making her feel better. “I really can’t thank you enough for letting us both stay here.” She blinked hard, trying to push back the sudden tears pricking her eyes.
Hannah stood and walked over, then pulled Fiona into a warm hug. “I’ll let you get settled,” she said. “I made a quick trip to the grocery store after Owen called me, so you should have enough supplies to hold you for a couple of days. I’m sure Nate can show you around the area if you need to spend more time here.” She released Fiona, then turned and hugged Nate. “See you soon?” she asked him.
“You know it,” he replied. He walked her to the door, giving Fiona a chance to get her emotions back under control. What did it say about her life that she had to rely on the kindness of strangers when she found herself in trouble? Could she be any more pathetic? Her despair settled in her stomach, making her feel suddenly queasy. She swallowed hard, willing her body to behave itself. The last thing she wanted was to vomit in Hannah’s apartment.
Nate turned back from the door, and his eyes widened when he caught sight of her face. Great—she must look truly scary.
“You okay?”
Fiona nodded vigorously. “Yep. Just fine.” Her pride kept the tears in check, but for how much longer?
Nate studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“What?” Her voice was a high squeak, betraying her nerves. “We just got here.”
“I know, and we’ll come back. But I have an idea.”
“What about Slinky?” She couldn’t leave him alone in an unfamiliar setting. He needed her, and truth be told, she needed him. After today’s scares, she wanted nothing more than to curl up with his furry warmth and forget about everything, if only for a few hours.
Nate tilted his head meaningfully, and she turned to find the cat stretched out on the sofa, bathing himself in preparation for a nap. Traitor. “I think he’ll be okay on his own for a little bit,” Nate said drily.
“I guess you’re right. Just let me run to the bathroom first.”
She found it just off the hall. It was small but cheerfully decorated with bright colors. As soon as she stepped inside, she noticed that Hannah had the same shower curtain that was in her bathroom at home. The familiar sight made her smile and eased the knot in her stomach a little. It seemed she and Hannah had some things in common, and in another life, they probably would have been friends.
Fiona tried not to wince when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Not exactly a sight for sore eyes... Her hair was falling out of its ponytail, and her skin was so pale she looked sick. She made a face, then settled into damage control. The elastic band reluctantly surrendered its grip on her hair, and she used her fingers to comb through the tangles. Hannah’s brush was sitting on the counter, but Fiona didn’t feel comfortable using it. The woman was already letting her invade her home—sharing a brush was going a little too far, in Fiona’s mind. Once her hair was smooth, she pulled it back into a ponytail again. It wasn’t the most glamorous hairstyle, but it was practical and got the job done.
Next, she splashed cold water on her face. The shock of it made her gasp, but when she looked in the mirror again, she was pleased to see her cheeks had turned slightly pink. She still wasn’t the picture of health, but she no longer looked like death warmed over. Good enough.
She took a deep breath and realized the fluttery, panicked feeling in her stomach had subsided. Was it the routine of grooming that had helped or Nate’s promise of a distraction? Either way, she was glad the uncomfortable sensation had passed.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she called as she walked back into the living room. Nate stepped from the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“I was just setting out a bowl of water for Slinky,” he said, sounding a little self-conscious. “In case he gets thirsty later.” She followed his gaze to the lightly snoring ball of gray fur on the couch, and her heart seemed to swell in her chest. He had remembered her cat and thought to provide for him even though they wouldn’t be gone long. It was a small but sweet thing, and a wave of tenderness washed over her. Even though Nate wasn’t trying to score points, the gesture melted something inside of her.
He walked over to her, and, before she could talk herself out of it, Fiona rose up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Heat flared in his eyes. “If that’s the thanks I get for putting out some water, I’d be happy to do it again. I noticed Hannah has a lot of bowls in her cupboard.” He took a teasing step in the direction of the kitchen, a sly smile curving his lips.
Fiona laughed at his antics. “Maybe later. I thought we had somewhere to go?”
“That’s true,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door. “And I think you�
��re going to like this.”
“I’m sure I will,” she murmured, happy to be near him, to be touching him. She felt as if she was standing at the top of a tall hill, a little giddy with the realization that just one small shove would send her over the edge, plummeting deeper into like and maybe, just maybe, even into love.
She stole a glance at Nate as they walked to his car. Did he feel it, too? Or was she alone in wondering if this was the start of something between them? More important, could she afford to take that chance? She already felt emotionally vulnerable in the wake of the robbery and her home being invaded. Could she open her heart to another risk, knowing it might get broken?
Her mom would know the right answer. Christine had always been able to find the perfect words for any situation, a talent she had not passed on to Fiona. But no matter. There would be time to worry about it later. Now, she just wanted to enjoy herself.
* * *
Sal pulled his nephew’s information up on the screen and pressed the button to dial his number. Even though Joey had only gotten his assignment this morning, he wanted to check in and see if any progress had been made.
“Hello?” The kid’s voice wavered a little, and Sal’s hand clenched into a fist. He was clearly nervous, which meant he hadn’t gotten the pictures back yet. Great.
“I’m calling for a status update,” Sal said, forgoing the normal conversational pleasantries. He didn’t want this call to last any longer than necessary, and since the sound of Joey’s voice grated on his last nerve, he needed to keep it short.
“Um.” Joey stammered for a moment, hemming and hawing and not really saying anything of substance. Sal bit his tongue to keep from screaming at him to get to the point. “I’m still working on it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m working on it.” A note of petulance crept into the kid’s voice, and Sal’s palm tingled with the urge to slap him.
“Would you care to rephrase that?” he said, his tone dangerously calm.
Apparently, Joey wasn’t as dumb as he looked. He gulped audibly and began stammering again. “I talked to the store owner this morning. He doesn’t have the pictures anymore. He gave them to the lady clerk at the store. So I went to her house.”
“And?”
“She got away before I could ask her anything.”
“I see.” Sal ground his teeth until pain shot through his jaw. Of course. Could this kid do anything right?
“But I haven’t given up,” Joey hastened to add, apparently sensing his uncle’s impatience.
“Good. I need those pictures back. The sooner the better.” Once again, the thought of Isabella’s wrath sent a cold trickle down his spine. He knew the kind of people she associated with, and he understood all too well the risks he’d assumed by getting involved with her. But the offer from the cartel had been too good to pass up.
He’d been looking for an opportunity to expand his business for years, but the timing had never been right. When Isabella had approached him with the cartel’s proposal that he launder money for them in exchange for additional power and influence over the region, he’d jumped at the chance. And when Isabella had made it clear she was amenable to enjoying his company on a personal level, as well... He was only a man, after all.
The only condition the cartel had made was that their arrangement remain a secret. He’d agreed without hesitation, never thinking that would be a problem.
Until now.
“I’ll get them back,” Joey promised. “I can do this.”
The kid sounded so eager to please that for a moment Sal almost felt sorry for him. Then the reality of his situation slammed back into him, making his gut clench.
“You have twenty-four hours,” Sal informed him coldly. “If you can’t get the pictures by this time tomorrow, you’d better start running and pray I don’t catch up with you.”
He hung up, cutting off Joey’s sputtered reaction. The kid might be family, but this was a cutthroat world, and if he couldn’t keep up he wasn’t going to make it very far. Better for him to learn that now. Besides, at this point, Sal had to focus on his own problems.
The last thing he wanted was to send some of his guys to retrieve the photos. If more people learned of their existence, it would increase the chances the cartel would catch wind of the situation. He wasn’t stupid—he knew there were likely people working for him who were also on the cartel’s payroll, reporting back to the organization so they could monitor his actions. It was only a matter of time until the deadly group found out, but he wanted to control when and how they learned of this lapse.
Maybe he could redirect their focus to Ben. After all, it was his fault the photos even existed in the first place. Perhaps he could spin this to his advantage, whatever the outcome. If Joey didn’t manage to get the pictures back, Sal would simply tell the cartel about Ben. A well-timed suggestion that Ben thought he could use the photos to gain the upper hand over the cartel wouldn’t go amiss, either. The organization would be forced to act, and by eliminating Ben, they would be doing him a favor, as well. It just might work...
Sal nodded, satisfied for now. He didn’t trust the cartel and knew very well that his contingency plan could backfire in his face. But he wasn’t going to let some two-bit convenience store owner take down his empire. Not without a fight.
Chapter 8
Nate was having trouble keeping his eyes on the road.
Fiona was a distracting presence in the passenger seat. She didn’t mean to be—he knew that much. She sat quietly, apparently content to let him take her where he wanted to go. It was humbling, that show of trust, especially after all she’d been through in the past twenty-four hours. The very last thing she needed right now was for him to get into an accident. He should be focused on driving safely, but his eyes kept drifting over to watch her, as if he was a compass needle and she his true north.
Every red light was an exercise in torture, and he had to practically sit on his hands to keep from reaching over and hauling her out of the seat and onto his lap so they could finish what she’d started back at Hannah’s apartment. He knew she hadn’t meant to tease him. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She was just trying to thank him for taking care of her cat. But his body couldn’t tell the difference between gratitude and lust, and her soft, sweet kiss had left him wanting more.
Get a grip, he told himself sternly. One thank-you kiss did not an invitation make, and he would do well to remember it.
Shaking off the fantasy, he pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. “Ready?” he asked, turning to face her.
She regarded the logo of the big-box store with a healthy dose of skepticism. “I suppose.” She climbed out of the car and waited for him to round the hood so they could walk together. “So, if you don’t mind my asking,” she said, “what kind of fun did you have in mind for us here?”
Nate didn’t bother to hide his smile. “This is only phase one of my plan. I thought you could buy some basics to get you through the night—toothbrush, deodorant, that kind of thing. The forensics team should be finished with your house tomorrow, and I can take you back to collect some more of your things then.”
“I really appreciate that. I didn’t have time to grab anything before I left. I didn’t even think about it until we got to Hannah’s.” She sounded a little rueful, so he reached out to give her shoulder a squeeze.
“Of course, you didn’t stop to think. You were running on instinct. You don’t need to feel bad about that.”
She nodded, but he could tell the reminder of her earlier scare had dampened her mood. Wanting to get things back on track, he stopped her just inside the store. “Okay, here’s the plan. You go grab the toiletries and other items you might need to get you through tonight. I’m going to break away and pick up a few things of my own. I’ll meet you at checkout lane sixteen. Sound good?”
Fiona gave him a small smile, her expression indulgent. “All right,” she said. “This is all very
mysterious, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“That’s all I ask.” He trailed his hand down her arm, then headed left as she turned right.
It took him only a few moments to gather his supplies, and he raced through the self-checkout line, not wanting Fiona to see what he was buying. Then he walked back and waited for her at their prearranged spot.
“Ready to go?” he asked as she finished up.
She raised a brow at the bag in his hand. “Do I get to see what you bought?”
“Eventually. But now it’s time for phase two of my plan.”
“Do any of these phases involve food? I haven’t really eaten anything today.” She sounded so plaintive, he had to swallow hard to keep from laughing.
“That can definitely be arranged. Can you give me twenty more minutes?”
She narrowed her eyes at him but finally nodded. “I suppose,” she said slowly. “But if I don’t find food soon, I’m going to have to eat your jacket.”
He brushed a hand over the smooth leather of the sleeve. “Might be a little tough,” he warned.
“But I’m sure it’s well seasoned,” she said with a grin.
“I do wear it everywhere,” he admitted.
Five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of their second destination. “This is our last stop, and then we’ll head back,” he promised.
Fiona stared out the windshield, her eyes wide. “What are we doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he teased. “We’re buying a Christmas tree.”
She blinked hard, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I haven’t had a Christmas tree since my mom got sick.”
Nate’s heart broke for her. He’d meant for this to be a fun distraction, but it seemed he’d inadvertently brought up some painful memories. “How long ago was that?”
“Seven years. She died two years ago, but she’d been sick for five years before that.” Her voice was quiet, but she didn’t sound as if she was crying. That was a good sign...