Chapter 14 – BEAU
BEAU
The front door of my office slams open hard enough to rattle the framed PI license on the wall.
Barging in without even checking to see if I have company, Lisa Harris is standing in my doorway before I've even finished pushing back from the desk.
There's now a chunk of white that’s stuck on the door handle where it's chipped the paint, and my eyes follow the plaster dust as it floats to the floor, dancing in the beam of sunlight streaming in through the window over my head.
I've been waiting for her since the second I turned off my phone.
"Where is she?" she demands, red hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that accentuates her high cheekbones and those big, bright eyes.
Pinned to the lapel of her jacket is a small dark-blue enamel pin. I clock it without comment. My own identical pin is sitting unopened in a box on the corner of my desk.
"Lisa." Leaning forward in my chair, I rest my forearms on my desk, covering the pages in front of me.
"I'd offer you coffee, but as you can see, I've barely had time to unpack.
" Boxes line the wall, along with shelves and storage units I've not had the time or energy to put together.
Stretching my leg out under my desk, I kick the chair in front of her out. "Would you like to sit down?"
"No, thank you," she grits out, struggling to remain civil.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I fold my arms and sit back, my relaxed attitude seeming to make her more annoyed with each passing second.
"Cut the bullshit, Beau. You know why I'm here. Where's Zara?" She's already moving across the room and then standing over me with her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you call me the second you picked her up?”
Mildly amused by her dramatic entrance, I raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise, even though I knew this was coming. Hell, maybe I even manifested it by avoiding her calls.
"She's somewhere safe."
Lisa purses those full rosy lips of hers before asking slowly, "Safe where, exactly?"
She's pissed off. Good. So am I. It’s been four painful days since the rescue, and I’ve been going crazy trying to stay away, to be the good guy, and the first time I see her again, she's barging through my door, yelling at me.
And looking hot as hell while doing it.
"Safe somewhere top secret. Telling anyone defeats the whole point."
Who knows who’s involved, so I’m not taking any chances until we figure out what’s going on.
“I’m not anyone. I’m the police. And her friend.”
When I don’t reply, her eyes narrow, and she steps back, scanning the room, when her gaze lands on the whiteboard behind me and stays there.
I've been mapping Zara's stalking timeline alongside the broader Amber Reeves case, and while most of it’s basic information that Lisa already knows, the way she's studying the connecting threads makes me wish I'd thrown a jacket over the damn thing.
"If you tell me where she is, let me ask her some questions, I can help.
" She drags her attention back to me, one hand running along the length of her ponytail, batting her eyelashes now.
"This break-in is probably connected to Amber's disappearance.
You know that. And I've been working on that case from day one. I know it inside and out."
I consider my options, impartially, trying not to be swayed by her blatantly obvious attempt to charm me. I could bring Lisa up there, possibly risking tipping off the stalker of her whereabouts, or refuse the pretty detective and keep Zara's location to myself while I keep searching for clues.
"Maybe." My bear is practically vibrating, desperate to get closer to her, and he wants to help. But I work for Zara. Not him. And not Lisa Harris. So, I need to do whatever's going to keep her out of harm's way. "Tell me what you know first."
Lisa blinks, brows furrowed, but she sputters out, "What?" Then a definitive shake of her head, her ponytail swishing as she moves. "Absolutely not."
So, she wants to know what I know, but without sharing her information with me. That sounds fair.
Standing now, I loom over her, and she lifts her chin, determined not to be intimidated by how much larger than her I am.
"Share what you've got, and I'll share with you," I offer again.
It seems perfectly reasonable to me, but apparently, not to Lisa. She folds her arms angrily, mirroring my defensive stance, and stares at me, aghast.
"You know I can't do that. Sharing active case information with a civilian would cost me my badge."
She's so appalled by even the suggestion that it's almost amusing.
"Right. And we both know you definitely won't do anything to jeopardise that."
Like sleeping with me. Those four words don’t need to be said out loud, though. We both know what I mean.
The colour in Lisa’s cheeks goes from pink to a deep red as she contemplates how to respond. Deciding there's no good way to reply, she remains stubbornly silent until I break the tense standoff.
"Looks like we're at an impasse then." I shrug and pull a document to me as I sit back down, the discussion already over.
"I'll keep her safe and find out who did this, while you and your colleagues can go back to doing…
whatever it was you were doing for the last three weeks since she told you someone was following her. "
Furious, Lisa marches around the desk, grabs my chair and twists me to face her, before leaning over me with one hand flat on my large oak table, and the other, jabbing a finger at my face.
Her thighs press against the insides of my knees, and she's close enough that all I can smell is her natural perfume. It's dizzyingly delicious, and the strength of it reminds me that the last time she was this close, she was wearing significantly less.
"Don't you dare suggest I don't care about Zara. When everyone else wrote her off as paranoid, I was the one pushing for drive-bys and checking on her. I'm the one who gave her your damn number, but so you could protect her, not shut me out."
I act like it's no big deal that she trusted me with her friend, even though my bear insists it is.
Her finger is still jabbing at my face when I close my hand around her wrist and pull.
She lands forward against me with a small, sharp gasp.
Her free hand flies from the desk to brace herself against my chest, her legs caught between my thighs.
The shift of her weight presses her hip against the front of my jeans where I've been hard since she walked through the door, and her eyes widen when she feels it.
Idon't let go of her wrist when she attempts to wrestle it back.
“What do you think…”
I bring it up between us slowly, deliberately, and turn it palm-up so the pale underside is exposed. Lean in. Inhale against the thin skin where her pulse is hammering.
Keeping my gaze on her skin, I press my mouth to the inside of her wrist, open, slow, tasting her, giving her the barest scrape of my teeth.
She doesn't breathe.
"Let’s get something straight here. Apart from looking out for Zara as best I can, I'm doing what you asked me to do, Red," I say against her skin. "Staying out of your way so your colleagues don't get the wrong idea. Exactly what you wanted."
Then I lift my head, meeting her eyes properly for the first time.
"Unless you're telling me you've changed your mind."
She doesn't speak. Her mouth opens and closes once, her throat working as she swallows.
I can scent her arousal in the air between us, can hear her heartbeat drumming in her chest. Every part of me wants to drag her into my lap and kiss her senseless, but I need her to say it, out loud, that she chooses me.
That this isn’t just the bond temporarily screwing with her hormones.
She doesn't. Instead, she tries to pull her wrist back from my grip, and this time, I let it go immediately. When she steps back from between my thighs, her free hand is pressed to her chest.
The silence stretches as I lean back in my chair and give her the out she needs.
"Zara's at my brother Ben's," I admit. "My brother's place. Up in the mountains."
Whatever she was expecting, that wasn't it.
"You took her to your brother."
I nod, trying my hardest not to stare at the swell of her breasts that are straining against her shirt as she moves to rest her hands back on her hips.
"He has a cabin. Remote, secure. It's off grid, nothing fancy, but nobody knows about it except our family. He's a bit of a recluse." I try to make her believe me. "She's safe, Lisa. I promise."
She considers my words, then frowns like she's confused about something I’ve said. Or by all of it.
"So, you thought that it was a good idea to drop off an already traumatised woman, whose sister has been kidnapped, in the middle of nowhere and with a complete fucking stranger?
And not just anyone, some weird loner dude, and another Lennox, then you just skipped back into town to hang out in your office for the day? "
She's alarmed, not relieved. To her, it seems Zara went from a stalker to a whole different kind of trouble.
"Ben won't touch her," I growl out, "if that's what you're thinking. Zara's perfectly happy where she is. And nobody, absolutely nobody, will get past Ben."
I roll my seat back, away from her and her addictive scent. I need to think straight.
"Now, unless you've got more insults you'd like to hurl at me and my family, who are taking care of the woman you and your buddies didn't protect, or some helpful information you might like to share, I think it's best you leave and let me get back to my work."
Swivelling my chair to face the desk once more, I reach for a file I don't need.
Beside me, there's silence. Then an inhale, the kind someone takes when they're about to speak, and for a second, I think she's going to offer something. Hand over whatever she's been sitting on and meet me halfway.
My bear goes still, waiting.
"I… shit." She stops. Another breath. "I don't have anything. We don't have anything. The case is going nowhere, which is why I need to speak to Zara, to get something that might help us."
Even with my back to her, I can hear in her voice how much it pains her to admit that.
"For now, keeping her safe is my top priority. But if she tells me, or Ben, anything that I think might be helpful to you, I'll pass it on. Because I do know how to do my job, and whoever this prick is deserves to be punished."
I scribble something nonsensical on the notepad and keep my eyes down, done with this conversation.
Her shoes cross the floor in the periphery of my vision, then the door opens and closes behind her with a slam that rattles the frame the way her entrance did.
"Shut up," I tell my bear, who whines when the exterior door clicks shut. "It's better this way."
Dropping the pen, I lean back and stare at the ceiling for a long time, frustrated with myself for losing my grip the second she walked through the door.
I bang my fist down hard on the table and curse out loud, because mad as I am, all I can think about is how good it felt to have her touch me again.