Chapter Twenty-Eight
The following morning Verity sat perched on the edge of the desk, swinging her feet and trying to hide her boredom as she watched Cross work. Not that she was trying very hard, she admitted. Despite two bouts of highly enthusiastic sex since waking, first while they were still in bed and then swiftly followed by an encore performance in the shower, she was still twitching with nervous tension.
Cross sighed heavily as her bouncing knee jogged his elbow for the third time but said nothing, his attention firmly fixed on the spreadsheet of numbers in front of him.
Giving up even the pretence at good behaviour, Verity leaned back on her elbows and nudged his leg with her foot. “I’m bored.”
“Really.” His dry tone indicated that this information was in no way a surprise to him. “Why don’t you go and find something else to do?”
“Like what? You have no TV, no radio and your books…” she trailed off.
“What about the books?”
“Let’s just say they were clearly selected for their colour and size, not their sizzling plot lines.”
Cross grunted but didn’t answer.
While his attention remained fixed on the screen, she ran her fingers through her hair and asked in a deceptively casual tone, “Is it alright if I go out for a bit?”
“Where?”
“Just out. I’m going crazy, stuck in here. Need some fresh air and a change of scenery.”
Apparently conceding that he wasn’t going to achieve anything further with her hovering, Cross logged out of his laptop and leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I just feel it would be safer for you to stay inside.”
She cocked her head. “Aww are you worried about me?”
Giving a wry smile he collected the files he’d been working on. “Well, you are somewhat pivotal to my plans. It would be annoying to have something untoward happen to you at this late stage,” he said as he got to his feet and moved to the other side of the office.
Verity spun round on the desk, crossing her bare legs in front of her and watching as he placed the documents in the open wall safe.
“You’re all heart,” she replied, “how could a girl resist–” She broke off as old habits drew her eyes to the open safe and she noticed something glinting in its depths. Wriggling off the desk her eyes narrowed as she took a step closer. “Is that…?”
Cross followed her gaze and chuckled. “The watch you stole? Yes.”
“But why… why didn’t you return it to its owner?”
Cross shrugged. “It was never really his. It was a gift from the Eighth Circle. A means to ensure his full and enthusiastic cooperation. Turns out, his abject horror at getting drunk enough to lose it in the first place was more than sufficient incentive.” He reached into the safe and withdrew the slim, elegant time-piece. “I didn’t feel the need to reward his carelessness by returning it.”
Verity took it from him, turning it over in her fingers. “It’s a knock off, right?”
Cross looked vaguely insulted. “I can assure you, it is entirely genuine. Worth about two hundred grand.
Verity nearly dropped the watch in shock. “How much??” she gasped. She’d known it was valuable, but the idea of someone paying that kind of money for something that just told the time was insane!
Cross chuckled at her reaction and then, taking it from her, he fiddled with the narrow links, shortening the strap. Once he’d adjusted it to his satisfaction he clasped it round her wrist. “It suits you,” he said, “you should keep it.”
Verity raised her hand - the watch was almost unnaturally thin so it weighed very little, but the obviously masculine design looked incongruous around her narrow wrist. She rather liked that effect. Maybe she’d look for something similar? She held out her hand. “Very funny, you can take it off now.”
Cross raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s beautiful but really not my style.”
“I think it suits you.”
Verity felt her shoulders starting to hunch, unsure of the rules to this particular game. “You already have my full and enthusiastic cooperation, so this really isn’t necessary and I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing it,” she said, waiting for him to reclaim his treasure and return it to his horde.
“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Consider it a performance bonus.”
She blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
“Of course.” He shrugged and turned away to close the safe.
***
Despite his hopes, Cross was disappointed to discover that the distraction of the new, shiny object lasted only until mid-afternoon, and then Verity picked up her refrain once more.
“I won’t be gone long.”
“That’s not the–”
“And it’s not like I’m going to do a runner. I’m in. You know that. I’m not going to do anything to fuck this up.”
“It’s just not–”
“You won’t even know I’m gone!”
Cross glared at her. “Oh I will. The peace and quiet will be deafening.”
“Fine, then you get to enjoy a break from my presence for a while.”
Cross hesitated, reluctant to let her out of his sight, but she jerked her chin towards the doorway to the club and added, “I’ll take one of your heavies with me, he can report back on everything I do and anyone I speak to. I’m sure you can spare someone for an hour. I’ll be careful, I swear!”
He raised his eyebrows and she cocked her head with a frown.
“Is there another problem?” she asked.
Cross gestured to her outfit. “Were you intending to go like that?”
Verity glanced down, looking almost surprised to find herself wearing nothing more than one of his crew necked t-shirts that didn’t quite reach mid thigh. She pulled at the hem and huffed in annoyance.
“I would have thought you could have magicked something up from one of your ‘sources’ by now.” She made bunny-ears around the word sources to indicate the dubious provenance of such items.
“I–” Cross stopped mid sentence. She was right. Under normal circumstances he could have supplied her with a full wardrobe in less than an hour. Why hadn’t he? Of course, maintaining that restriction on her clothing was a simple way to ensure she remained within the confines of his apartment without him having to stand guard twenty four hours a day, but he was also forced to admit that he rather liked having her sprawled half naked on whichever piece of furniture took her fancy, wearing nothing more than one of his shirts or a towel.
“I didn’t think about it,” he replied with surprising candour, then gave a shrug. “There’s been a lot going on, it didn’t seem important and must have slipped my mind.”
She raised one eyebrow to let him know she was fully aware of his reasons for failing to supply her with something to wear before shifting back to a more pragmatic solution. “Where’s my uniform?”
“What?”
“The uniform I was wearing before my fairy godmother appeared in a puff of sulphur and forced me into that stupid, red ball gown?”
“I imagine it’s in the staff changing room.”
“Well then,” she said, sounding as if the matter was already settled. “I can wear that to go back to my flat and pick up some proper clothing.”
Cross fumbled for a counter argument, but Verity held up a hand to stop him.
“I will take the car, you can come with me or send one of your henchmen. I promise I will go straight there and come straight back and I won’t talk to any strange men with sweets or puppies.”
“I can send someone–”
On a roll now, Verity continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “Plus, while I’m gone you can spend a bit of time in the club. I’m pretty sure if you don’t put in an appearance soon people are going to start thinking there’s been a coup!”
That comment gave him pause. He didn’t remember the last time he spent this long away from the main floors. His absence wouldn’t have gone unnoticed and he didn’t need to create any additional gossip.
Knowing there were some battles you were simply destined to lose, Cross raised his hands in defeat. “Fine. I’ll have someone bring your uniform up and then I’ll have the car sent around to the front. Michaels and can go with you. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
Verity squeaked with excitement and flung her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss into his cheek. Cross ruefully accepted the thanks, although they were both well aware that he’d been left with little choice. He found it almost charming that she was more excited by the prospect of picking up some old clothing than the two hundred grand watch he’d bestowed earlier.
He sighed heavily as he pulled out his phone to make the necessary calls. His life had been a whole lot simpler before she entered it. Shifting a damp towel from the chair before sitting, he frowned.
And his apartment had been considerably tidier.
Once the uniform had been delivered and Verity had disappeared back into the bedroom to change, he returned to his office. Activating the security screens he scanned the live images from the main floors. It was early afternoon so the venue was quiet, but that also meant Verity’s exit would be all the more noticeable.
His spies had informed him that Valentina was still holed up in her hotel room, and had made no plans to return to Italy yet. That didn’t surprise him, he couldn't imagine her leaving the city, much less the country, before Giancarlo’s much anticipated party. But she also hadn’t set foot in the club. That was more concerning. What was she up to? He switched the feed to the cameras mounted on the exterior of the building. Just because she wasn’t here, it didn’t mean she wasn’t watching.
He wished, not for the first time, that there was a private entrance to his apartment, but it had been designed in such a fashion that the only way to leave was through the club itself.
And if that wasn’t a metaphor for his life, he didn’t know what was.