Hidden with you, p.8
Hidden With You, page 8
She was stretched out on the couch, her laptop nestled on the tray in front of her. “Are you working? Should I go into my room?”
“No. It’s fine. And sorry about your room. It’s tiny.”
“Don’t worry. I’m very adaptable.”
“Well, my room’s quite large, and you know there’s always an open offer...”
He laughed, but his voice was firm. “I’m here to do a job, remember? And it’s going to be easier if we don’t tease each other about things that aren’t going to happen.”
“Maybe I still want them to happen.”
He moved closer and leaned against the arm of the couch by her feet. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re very forward?”
“Actually yes. Is that a problem?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Not at all. So long as you’re good at managing disappointment. Some children aren’t.”
She stared up at him, her brows rising. “Them’s fighting words.” She started to pull her T-shirt up, then paused to meet his eyes. “Want me to prove just how adult I am?”
Desperately. “No. That’s definitely not needed. I’ve read your dossier.”
“Oh really?” She put her computer on the ground and pulled her knees up, freeing the cushion for him to sit. “Do tell all. I’m dying to know all about myself.”
He chuckled, then sat before rattling off her biography. As he did, she stretched out again, her feet on his thighs.
“Wow, that sort of proves my point, though, don’t you think? I can’t possibly be only twenty-four. If I’ve done all that, I must be closer to thirty.” She teased her foot down until her toes brushed his cock. “Wanna fuck a thirty-year-old?”
“You are incorrigible,” he said, frustrated that his cock was clearly not onboard with the no-fooling-around rule.
“Is that what you call it? I usually just say horny.”
He fought not to laugh. “You’re saying that your age doesn’t matter at all?”
She shrugged. “Well, it gets me press. Which helps get sales. So I guess that’s good.”
“I meant here,” he admitted. “Right now.”
For a moment, she looked confused. Then she bit her lower lip, giving her a sultry expression that really did make her look even older than her years. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. I’m not too young at all. In fact, I hope you like older women.”
He cringed, realizing his mistake too late. “Whoa, slow down. I thought we’d already burned that bridge. I meant the threats. Is it a vendetta specifically based on your age? On what you’ve accomplished so young?”
She threw her head back and groaned, then withdrew her feet. She sat up, tucking them under her. “Fine, we’ll talk work. But I’m not dropping this. You brought it back up.”
“No, I didn’t. I—shit.” He drew in a breath. “Why are you pushing so hard?”
She pressed her lips together, then shrugged. “I like to get what I want.”
“And I deny myself a lot of things I want,” he countered. “It’s partly why I’m in good enough shape to protect you. I deny myself a lot of ice cream and candy. And cheesecake. I love cheesecake. But I don’t eat a lot of it.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I want to marry you. I just—”
“What? You just want to prove that you’re young and beautiful and can seduce anyone?” He felt his temper flaring and knew he should tamp it down. But the woman was so damned infuriating. “Well, guess what, you can. I’m right here, and I want you. Seduction achieved. But I’m going to do right by you. You’re my client. I’m too old for you. And whatever this is, it isn’t going anywhere.”
“Fine. Whatever. Fine.”
He stifled a curse and rubbed his temples. “Fine?” he repeated.
She leaned her head back and sighed. When she looked at him again, she seemed even younger. “Look, I know I’m a mess. I just—I just want the connection. And don’t flatter yourself. It’s not just you. I mean, I’m attracted to you, yeah. But…” She trailed off with a shrug.
“I get it. You’re lonely.”
“That sounds so pathetic, but it’s kind of true. I never connected with anyone in college. I was too young to even drink, and it was all about frat parties and keggers.”
“You’re out of college now.”
“Sure. And I tried to meet people. Other recent grads. I was nineteen and was already a working writer, and my fantasy life was going strong. I thought I’d find someone and we’d fall in love and it would be like a fairytale. Like I was Rapunzel and he’d rescue me from the witch and the haunted castle.”
“Didn’t work out as planned?”
“Nope.” She stretched out again, raising her eyebrows in question and putting her feet in his lap.
He nodded consent, and she continued with her story. “I didn’t have a clue what a good relationship looked like, and I didn’t know what to expect. I wanted—I wanted a connection. But everyone I met was fresh out of school, and they were focused on their career. And most of them thought I was a freak. And if it did get to the point where I brought them home, they’d either start lusting for my money or they’d freak out by what they considered some weird responsibility.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that he’d been rubbing her feet without even thinking about it. “Growing up is never easy, but you had it worse. You jumped straight over childhood.”
She blinked, and he was surprised to see her eyes glisten with tears. “Do you know, other than Evelyn, no one has ever understood that?” Her smile was watery. “Maybe that’s why I’m attracted to you. That and the fact that you’re really, really hot.”
He laughed.
“Honestly, I think you’re just a unicorn.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“You’re older. You’re smart. You’re not competitive. And you don’t want to get serious any more than I do.”
“I don’t even want—”
“I know, I know,” she said. “I mean in general. The hypothetical partner. Someone to make you—me—feel wanted.” She shrugged. “God, this is pathetic. I feel like I’m on a shrink’s couch. But all I want is to feel. To forget. This threat, even my life. I just want to be swept away.”
“That’s not my job,” he said, although he couldn’t deny that he wanted it to be.
“I know. You’ve made that perfectly clear. I’m just talking. I don’t even know why, except that you’re listening. You are listening, aren’t you?”
“I’m listening,” he said. Right then, he felt like he could listen to her all night. She fascinated him, and even though he knew there was danger lurking there, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her.
“But that’s what it was at the party, you know. With you, I mean. I saw you at the party, and it was like being hit. And honestly, I was a little drunk—okay, a lot drunk—at that party, and when I saw you, it was just like, wow. And then in the atrium, when I realized you were attracted to me, too, I just thought it was going to happen. And then you shut it down. And now it’s like someone took my cheesecake away.”
He shook his head. “Oh no. You’re not allowed to try to get me to empathize by comparing sex to cheesecake.”
“But you want cheesecake. You know you do.”
“And I just told you that I don’t have cheesecake because it’s not good for me. I can’t be in good shape with cheesecake. I can’t do my job as well with cheesecake.”
“Fair enough. And I’m sorry if I sound like an overly chatty brat. I really do want to get to know you better. And I really do appreciate that you’re protecting me.”
“Thanks for that. And the truth is I want to get to know you better too. And I promise I will protect you. And just so you know, the men you’ve met sound like giant assholes.”
“Pretty much.”
“I started reading the first Martin King book.” He wasn’t at all sure what made him blurt that out.
“Yeah? That’s totally cool. I’m being read by a guy who pretty much is King.”
He chuckled. “I thought I might try and finish it tonight. See if you did it right.”
Her mouth curved up in a half smile. “I always do it right. I’m the author. That means I can make up my own rules.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I bet you can. Did you write the script?”
“No. I don’t know a thing about screenplays. Besides, no time. I’m already working on the next Martin King book, and I’m consulting on the series, so that takes up some time.”
“The series? A Martin King TV show?”
“What? Oh, no. It’s a fantasy series based on Twisted Desire. Have you read it?”
“No. To be honest, I hadn’t even heard of it until I read the dossier on you.” He watched her face, afraid he’d just insulted her. But what he saw was relief.
“Thank God. That was like everywhere when it hit. I didn’t think I’d ever be anonymous again.” She smiled up at him. “Honestly, I kind of like the feeling. It means there’s more of me for you to get to know.”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I like that part, too.”
Jasper cupped his hands behind his head, his mind full of Zelda.
He should be sleeping. Instead, he was remembering the delight in her eyes when he confessed to having never heard of her first series. He could understand wanting to be less in the spotlight. After all, she was a celebrity. Not as much as someone like Jamie or Damien Stark, but enough to be inconvenienced by the steady shine of a spotlight on her life.
But to crave complete anonymity? Why? Maybe it was just a passing thought. She was so talented and vibrant and smart. Why didn’t she want to be out there looking at the world and see herself reflected in it?
Just thinking about it made his heart break a little.
But maybe it wasn’t anonymity she wanted at all. Maybe what she really wanted was to have someone beside her. To shield her from that glare.
He felt that flutter in his chest that so often accompanied thoughts of Zelda. Maybe he could be the one to hold her hand. To help her feel safe in that glare.
No. Dammit, no.
He needed to exorcise those thoughts, but it was so damn hard. Because he craved her. That was the bare bones truth of it. He wanted to hold her. To possess her. To get lost with her. That vibrant, exciting woman.
He told himself it was just sex. That he wanted that release, and why not take it? So what if she was young? They both knew the attraction was real. And he was no stranger to FWB relationships.
Except he couldn’t go there with her. He couldn’t put his finger on why Zelda was different from Liesl or any of the women he casually fucked, but he knew that she was. He needed to stay far, far away, and not just because she was a client at his new workplace.
No, this was about protecting himself as much as it was about protecting his professional reputation.
Hell, maybe he really did need to take the edge off. As an MI6 agent, Liesl understood the way he thought and the pressure he was under even if he’d never told her his particular circumstances since he left the service. And God knew he’d relied on her enough over the years to get him by in those cold moments when he needed warmth, and Sandra wasn’t there anymore.
Tonight, it was Zelda who wasn’t beside him.
No, no, no.
With a groan, he let himself settle back into the thick, downy pillows. This place might be a cottage, but it was well-appointed. The pillows were fluffy, the sheets were 800 thread count, and the comforter was light as a feather. Everything was perfect, except for the fact that he was alone.
But she’s only one thin wall away.
With a soft curse, he reached for his phone, intending to call Liesl. Maybe phone sex would burn this obsession right out of him. He started to dial, realized what he was doing, then tossed his phone across the room. It started to ring right as it landed.
Well, fuck. Had he actually pressed send instead of cancel?
He tossed the comforter aside, then crossed the short distance to his phone. Not Liesl, and his blood went cold when he saw the single initial identifying the contact—M.
He frowned. The initial was for Melinda Barrett. A woman he hadn’t expected to ever hear from again.
She’d been his first lead. A lead it had taken years to procure. She’d been the one who’d told him about The Maestro. Who’d told her that the bookkeeper Raleigh had moved to the States, and that Raleigh might be the only person who could reveal The Maestro’s identity or location.
Melinda was the reason he was at Stark Security. The reason he’d moved to the States. When he’d first found her, he’d anticipated taking her out. But in the end, he’d realized that she was as much a victim as he had been.
In a weak moment, he’d texted her his phone number and told her to reach out if she ever needed help. Or if she ever came across more information about The Maestro. So far, she was his best and only lead, and that wasn’t saying much.
He connected the call, afraid to hope that maybe today was the day things changed. “Tell me you have something,” he said.
“It’s me,” she said. “Melinda.”
He closed his eyes then opened them again, calmer. “Yes. I know. Tell me you have something.”
“On The Maestro? No. But Raleigh is dead.”
Jasper felt his entire body go stiff. “How do you know?” Raleigh had been her boss. A bookkeeper who did work for The Maestro. And not a nice guy. He’d basically given Melinda to The Maestro for his pleasure, as if that was a perfectly acceptable form of currency.
“Someone told me.”
“What? Who? Who told you what?”
“I don’t know. That’s the point. Someone told me that Raleigh is dead. And they said to call and tell you.”
A chill ran up his spine, the kind that comes with a burst of intuition. “Was it The Maestro?”
“I don’t know. I tried to recognize the voice, but he talked in a whisper. I couldn’t.”
“Okay. It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but it was something. It was a lead. He wished he had more, but he would work with what he had. He tried to calm himself. To walk her through the steps. To get all the information. “Describe his voice for me.”
“Like I said, he was whispering. It was raspy. He sounded older. Like my grandfather.”
“What time did he call? Did he call the number that you’re calling from?”
“Right before I called you, and yes.”
“Okay. I want your phone. I’m going to have a friend come by and get it from you. Text me the address. We might be able to trace the location the call was made from. And right now, I want you to give me the number he called you from.”
“It came in as unlisted. I don’t have a number.”
He closed his eyes and said a silent curse. Chances were they wouldn’t be able to get anything from the phone, but he was going to try anyway. “I still want the phone. Don’t worry; we’ll pay you for it.”
“Thank you,” she said, and he knew she understood that he would be paying her well more than what the phone was worth.
“No. Thank you. I asked you to call, and you did. Now’s the hard part. Tell me what he said to you. Tell me his exact words.”
“I can do that,” she said. “He made me write it down.” He heard her swallow, then she said, “I want you to call Jasper Kent. I want you to give him a message. Tell him the message is that Raleigh is dead and that if he wants to know more, he has to call this number.”
“What number?”
“I was just getting to that. He made me write it down, too.” She rattled it off, then repeated it, and he read it back to her. It was a number in the States. These days, area code didn’t always match location, but with the 818 area code, there was a good chance that he was calling from the San Fernando Valley.
“You did good, Melinda. Thank you.”
“Will you ever tell me why you’re looking for him?”
“Probably not. But let’s just say I have as much reason to hate him as you do. Maybe even more.”
“That’s a lot of hate.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It is. Goodbye, Melinda. You did good.” He ended the call without waiting for her to respond. Then he drew a breath, and for the second time that night, he started to dial Liesl. This time he finished the call. She answered on the first ring. “I need a favor,” he said.
“And hello to you too.”
“Sorry. It’s urgent.” He summed up Melinda’s call and gave her the address. “She’s expecting you to get the phone. I want you to talk to her. See if there’s anything she’s not telling me. And put someone on her for the next few weeks.”
“You really think she might know more about this Maestro than she’s told you? She gave you this number to call.”
“I don’t know. But I want to find out. Mostly, though, I’m afraid she might be in danger. Why would someone call to have her forward this information? Would they really want her running around spreading this story?”
“I’ll find her. I’ll check on her.” She paused for a moment. “Jasper?”
“What?”
“Are you going to call the number?”
He drew in a breath. Part of him wanted to walk away. To say that he didn’t need this. That he was done with vendettas. That he had a good job helping good people, and he needed to move on.
But that wasn’t him. He might need to move on, but he wanted answers. He couldn’t move on without them. “I’m going to call. But you already knew that.”
“Don’t get dead on me,” she said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Thanks for checking on Melinda.”
“Don’t mention it. And call me if you need anything else.”
“I know.” That was the thing about a friend like Liesl. No matter what, he knew she would always be there for him. The thought made an image of Zelda flash in his mind. As far as he knew, she didn’t really have anybody like that. And damned if he understood why.
Once again, he looked at his phone, both wanting to make the call and dreading it.
Finally, he did it. He punched in the numbers, then pressed the button to dial, then waited for an answer.
