“We’ll be in deep shit,” I informed him. “I’m not letting you go down alone.”
“Blaire … shit,” Liam cut off when two men crossed the street from the inn into the diner property. One was wearing jeans and an Oxford blazer, while the other was in a suit.
“What—”
“My guess are detectives. Let me do the talking.”
When the men walked into the parking lot, they made a beeline for us. My heart was in my throat and Liam brought out his gun, but kept it on his right side.
Suit guy knocked on the window. My friend powered it down.
“What’s going on over there?” Liam nodded to the motel.
“We’re investigating,” Suit guy replied. “Did you two just come from the diner?”
“Yes.”
“See anything suspicious before the cop cars got here?”
“Can’t say I did. Just the regular coming and goings past midnight. Besides, I was entertained by my beautiful companion here.”
Suit guy leaned over and looked at me. I didn’t like his smirk. I would have smacked Liam later if I didn’t know I was a diversion.
“How about you, ma’am? See anything?”
I shook my head.
“Heard anything?”
Again, I shook my head. “The diner was loud.” And thankfully still crowded to support my claim. “I hope everyone is all right.” I gave my best impression of a concerned, sympathetic citizen.
Suit guy’s face tightened. “If you do remember anything, give us a call.” They gave Liam their cards and said their goodbyes.
“We can’t stay here,” Liam said, looking in the rearview mirror. “We’ll figure out another way to get you to Grant.”
“I’m not going back to Grant,” I said. My friend looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “What if this blows up in our faces? Can you be a hundred percent sure those prints won’t link back to Paulina Antonova? They’ll have my face and I’ll be on a BOLO everywhere for homicide.”
“Blaire, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Am I?” I challenged. “Just look at those flashing lights, Liam. I don’t want Grant to see me handcuffed and led to the back of a police car. I can’t do that to him. Just … just get us out of here.”
“Listen, sweetheart …”
“Fucking now, Liam!”
“Jesus, all right. Calm down,” Liam grumbled as he turned the engine on. I leaned back in my seat, drained by the roller coaster of emotions I’d gone through in those past two hours. Scared to death that Grant was hurt, hopeful that he wanted me back, fear at nearly getting killed and then, that hope was gone again. I didn’t know where Liam and I would go after that. Grant had all my falsified documents. He wouldn’t be giving them back without answers … answers I wasn’t ready to give.
Liam swore. “Looks like you have no choice now, Blaire.”
In all my self-pitying scramble of thoughts, I noticed we had not moved from the parking lot exit. There was traffic, but not too bad that a driver of Liam’s caliber couldn’t pull away. It was then I noticed a familiar Black Escalade making a turn from the opposite lane into ours.
“Go, now!”
“Fuck this,” my friend said and pulled into traffic.
12
Blaire
“What are you doing?” I yelled. I turned in my seat to watch the other vehicle, feeling betrayed by the only person I trusted. “They’re right on our tail!”
“You’re going to talk to Thorne,” Liam told me. “There’s no way we could tear out of that parking lot and speed down this road without drawing attention.”
I knew he was right. With law enforcement on the lookout for suspicious activity, the less conspicuous we were, the better. I’d give some kudos to Tyler that he didn’t try to intimidate us by driving alongside us. I had a feeling if the cops weren’t crawling all over the place, Grant would have had him cut us off by now.
Liam turned left into a quiet business park and pulled up to the front of some one-story office buildings. The place was deserted and was ideal for the oncoming confrontation. The Escalade stopped behind our vehicle.
“The son of a bitch blocked me in,” Liam muttered. He didn’t seem too annoyed, and I bet he would have done the same if the situations were reversed.
Doors slammed and a shadow fell across my window. My door was yanked open and Grant hauled me out of the car. He caged me against the Ford sedan, both arms on either side of me. Whatever objections I had about being dragged out of the car died when I saw his bruised face that was lit by the Escalade’s headlights.
“What the hell happened back there?” he growled, his eyes searched mine. “Were you guys involved?”
“Hello to you, too, Grant,” I murmured.
“Damn it, Blaire,” he released his grip on the car and his hands shook as they cupped my face. “When I saw those flashing lights”—he crushed his lips against mine in a deep but brief kiss—“I thought I was too late … that they got to you.”
“They nearly did,” Liam said.
My own hand came up and touched the bruise on his cheekbone. “Oh, Grant.”
He grabbed my hand on his face and kissed it. “Come on. I can’t wait to get you home. You’re welcome to come with us, Watts.”
He tugged me in the direction of the Escalade, but I resisted. Grant turned to look at me and his expression hardened. “No, Blaire. Don’t even say you’re not coming with me.”
“I’m a bad bet, Grant Thorne,” I said even as my heart yearned for him. “I’m only going to drag you and your family down with me.”
He gripped my shoulders. “Listen to me, Blaire. I’m fucking pissed that you have so little faith in me. You think I haven’t gotten my hands dirty to get to my position now? I have. I can be ruthless when I need to be. I’ve dealt with all kinds of organizations. If they start playing filthy games, I’m not above doing the same. Someone had already messed with me and is gunning for my woman. You think the man I am, I’m just gonna let that slide?”
My mouth opened as if to say something but I expelled a resigned breath instead. “Well then.”
Grant smiled and kissed the top of my head. “We’ll talk, but not here.”
“I’m going to ground for a few days,” Liam announced. “My number is programmed on your burner, Blaire.” He looked at Grant. “I’m not sure what level of security you have on your phones, but if you’re going to protect her, you might consider upgrading. Blaire will explain why.” He nodded at the Escalade. “I need to go.”
“Tyler,” Grant told his security man to back up their SUV.
“Not changing your mind?” I asked my friend in one last ditch effort to get him to come with us. “I hate not knowing where you are.” There was no use pulling away from Grant because he had my hand locked down tight.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be okay,” he said. I gave Liam a one-arm hug and he returned the favor. “Now get out of here. Thorne, take care of my girl.”
Grant stiffened beside me and, judging from Liam’s smirk, calling me “his girl” was a deliberate taunt. Men.
We got into the Escalade. The man beside me suddenly quiet and brooding.
“Hi, Tyler,” I greeted Grant’s security guy.
“Ma’am.”
“I told you to call me Blaire.” There was a wariness in the way Tyler looked at me and I had a feeling it was because I was the reason his boss was all bruised up. It wasn’t exactly a condemning look, just a feeling of uneasiness.
“The brownstone, Mr. Thorne?”
“Yes.” It was a curt reply. Grant was staring out the window, but he hadn’t let go of my hand.
“Liam was messing with you.” I think I was familiar enough with my man’s moods to tell what changed it. He’d always been possessive as hell. I did complain to Liam about this, which was why my moronic friend decided to poke the bear.
He sighed in frustration. “I know. I’m just pissed he helped you leave me.”
&nb
sp; “At my request.” I felt the need to defend Liam. “I’ll tell you soon enough who he is to me, but I’ll have to start from the beginning.”
Grant didn’t answer, but he pulled me into his arms and for the first time since I’d ran from him, I felt safe.
“We’re home, Blaire.”
I startled awake. I had fallen asleep on the long car ride home, a delayed adrenaline crash of some sort. Grant had his arms around me and my head was on his chest. My heart squeezed. On one hand, I was lucky to have this handsome, caring, albeit intense, man crazy for me. On the other, I felt I was being tortured slowly. Being shown what happiness could be if I was an ordinary girl. But there wasn’t anything ordinary about me. I was a woman with a price on her head.
I pried myself away from the hard wall of muscle and took in the familiar brownstone.
“I never thought I’d see it again.”
Grant said nothing, just stepped out of the SUV and helped me down. He immediately tucked me to his side and we headed up the paved walkway. Another security guy met us and opened the door, speaking into a wrist radio before greeting us.
“I’ve stepped up security,” Grant told me. “Donovan is due back in the morning.” He looked at his watch. “We’re reviewing our protective detail.” He hugged me closer. “We’re going to send a clear message to whoever is after you that you’re under my protection.”
Oh, Grant, it isn’t that simple.
“Wait for me in our bedroom.” His mouth touched my ear, causing a shiver to go through me. “I’ll be in after a few minutes. I have a couple of calls to return.” He pulled back and smiled at me. “Welcome home, baby.”
I watched him disappear into his office. I made my way to our bedroom and entered the closet. Grant had showered me with gifts—clothes, jewelry, and expensive shoes. But I didn’t take them with me. I could have probably pawned the jewelry eventually, but sentimental fool that I was, I didn’t want to tarnish my time with Grant, so I departed with what I came with, except for the Medici paints. I took them with me not because they were rare, but because they were a testament to how much Grant cared about me. I would like to believe that I’d been special to him.
I moved to the dresser and pulled out some soft pajamas and my lips twitched at a memory. Grant bought me sexy lingerie from Agent Provocateur. I’d wear them for his benefit knowing those pieces wouldn’t last long on my body. They even wouldn’t last long in my lingerie drawer because he frequently ripped them apart in his eagerness to fuck me.
It was not the time to seduce him. I grabbed plain cotton panties and slammed the drawer as anger consumed me at the thought that Grant could have gotten killed.
I stepped into the shower and let the multiple nozzles wash the night away. There was a massage function and I engaged that as well, letting the water beat down on me in a soothing rhythm. I felt squeaky clean when I was done. When I finished and turned off the jets, the shower stall opened and a thick luxurious towel swallowed me up.
“I wanted to join you,” Grant whispered as he gently dried my hair. “But watching you through the glass was fucking amazing.”
“Pervert,” I sassed.
“I missed you,” Grant murmured before lowering his head to kiss me. The kiss deepened, his tongue searching and laced with controlled desperation. The towel dropped, his hands slid to my ass, drawing me closer to his jutting hardness. Desire pooled between my legs and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my limbs around him, but there was so much to be said between us. “Grant, we need to talk.”
He didn’t seem to hear me and went for my mouth again, so I arched away from him. “You need to know who you’re letting into your bed, into your life, and who you’re exposing to your family.”
Grant sighed and stepped back, his gaze piercing and I fought the urge to squirm.
“Answer this,” he said. “Are you a spy?”
Caught off guard by his question, I laughed. “No!”
“Are you involved in anything illegal? Are you a criminal?”
“No, but I may be wanted by the law at the moment.”
“For what happened at the motel? That was self-defense, don’t you think?”
“Why are you so blasé about this?” I was a bit pissed off, because here I was, all worried about telling him who I was, and he was standing there as if he didn’t give a damn. I knew better.
“I’m still mad at you,” he said, his eyes flashing with something unfathomable. “But after everything I’ve discovered in the cabin and having time to calm down, I understood why you ran. You should have trusted me, Blaire. It hurt that you didn’t and that was what pissed me off the most.”
“That’s why we need to talk.”
Grant shook his head. “Done talking, baby.” He bent down and scooped my naked body into his arms. He marched into the bedroom and dropped me on the mattress, then he stood back. In all the months I’d known him, his frank appraisal of my splayed naked body never failed to make me wet. His gaze was devouring, carnal hunger. He climbed on the bed, nudged my knees apart and settled in between. Supported by his arms, his head came down and began to explore my lips again. The teasing articulation of his kiss was the complete opposite of the raw desire I saw in his eyes earlier. His mouth moved to my jaw, grazed me there and then proceeded on a downward quest. His tongue licked my nipple, swirling around leisurely as the muscles of his torso rocked against my damp cove that was only getting wetter by the second. I moaned and moved my head from side to side, my eyes catching his grip on the sheets. He was struggling for control.
“Please,” I mewled as the fire in my lower pelvis grew hotter as he took his time worshiping each breast. Then he slid down my body, licked my navel before shifting lower to where I was craving his attention.
“Yes,” I undulated my hips, anticipation fractured my breathing. “Yes.”
He pushed my legs apart, cocking them to either side, his hot tongue branded my center. My body jerked as he speared my entrance. “You’re wet for me, Angel,” he murmured, lapping my juices onto his tongue. “So goddamned sweet.” He ate at my sensitive flesh, licking and swiping, until I came on a rush of pulses and a breathless cry.
I protested when Grant pulled back, but my eyes hooded with renewed excitement as he exposed his heavy arousal. His knee came down between my legs once more as he lowered himself above me. I expected a brutal thrust as he loved to take me hard but instead his engorged head circled at my entrance.
“Grant, I need you now,” I pleaded.
“Never leave me again, Angel,” he commanded huskily. He eased inside me and I relished the feeling of fullness. He thrust in a steady pace, unhurried, and savoring. He tormented me, keeping the surge of my second orgasm at bay. I tilted my hips to coax him to speed up, but he weighed me down and compelled me to accept his rhythm. This continued for long minutes, his lips would take mine in an impassioned kiss, and then he would watch my face as if mesmerized by its shifting expressions. When I noticed his breathing turned erratic, his pace also quickened. He surged deep and that elusive high exploded into massive jolts of pleasure low in my belly. He continued pounding until I rode out my wave and then quick successive thrusts brought him his release. He poured inside me, a warm and intimate sensation. We’d gotten rid of condoms long ago when I took the birth control shot. I mentally calculated its efficacy and the anxiety disappeared as quickly as it hit me. I wasn’t due for another month.
Grant fell to my side and dragged me against him. After two big orgasms and after the night I’d had, I didn’t even care about the sticky spot on the bed. I vaguely remembered getting shifted around, tucked close to a familiar scent and wall of muscle.
I slept.
13
Grant
Grant laid wide awake. His mind and body were weary, but a lingering unease kept the adrenaline steady in his veins—a fight or flight response that wouldn’t be quelled … a fear that if he slept, Blaire would disappear, her presence beside him all a dream.
He touched his nose to her hair, inhaled the citrus-floral scent of her shampoo and drew her closer. She’d probably complain of all the sweat in between them or sleeping beside a furnace, but Grant didn’t care. It meant she was real. He preferred this negligible discomfort compared to the sharp stab in his chest of those times he woke up without her at his side. It had been a hellish few days.
He turned his head to the picture windows. Purple light was breaking through the slats of the blinds, the darkness receding, but he was impatient for the new day to start.
There were things to get done, truths to be heard, and plans to be made. Grant was far from blasé about the whole Blaire affair and that was probably part of his anxiety. He was prepared to accept her past, but how it would affect the people around him like his father’s political allies would be a different question. The tabloids speculated whether the woman with Grant at his father’s first reelection event was the lady who had finally captured the heart of the senator’s son.
He decided to stop brooding and make an early day. He needed to make calls to his real estate investment firm. His buddy from Harvard, Rafael Lopez, headed Thorne Real Estate. They were in the process of acquiring prime commercial areas in several countries, but the ones in Brazil and Russia had been met by stiff competition. He trusted Rafe, but his friend didn’t represent the Thorne Industry umbrella, Grant did. The idea of whisking Blaire away from the dangers stalking her was enticing, but he had a responsibility to his company he couldn’t ignore.
He eased away from his woman, careful not to wake her, although the sounds of her light snoring indicated she was in deep sleep. Poor thing. He still didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle her or kiss her senseless. That was how much she had him twisted up.
After showering, he skipped his facial hair grooming all together. He looked like shit and the bruising had darkened considerably. He’d be working from home for the next few days—that much had appeal. He put on drawstring sweatpants and an ancient Harvard tee. Padding across the black walnut flooring, he headed into the kitchen. If anything, he needed coffee. He pushed the button to make twelve cups and the grinding sound of the coffee station broke through the serenity of the morning. Grant walked over to the living room and tugged back the vertical window treatment—some fancy-fabric accordion-type shit his mother insisted he purchase.
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