Chapter Twenty-Four
Josh
I leave the door to my office open, since I don’t have any meetings this morning.
Klein brings me my coffee as usual and fills me on the coming day like nothing’s happened since our engagement announcement and the fire at her apartment.
I admire her resilience. Some women would’ve fallen apart by now.
Like that magenta-haired chick I took out for dinner once who completely lost her sanity when she broke a nail.
Granted, it had enough cubic zirconia to power a space station, but really.
Klein walks back to her desk, and I can’t help tracking her with my eyes.
That dress does incredible things to her ass, the deep blue fabric clinging to her curves in all the right ways.
She doesn’t normally wear such vivid colors, but it looks amazing on her.
I almost forgot to breathe when I saw her this morning.
When she said blue was her favorite color, then couldn’t tear her eyes off the ring, I wanted to push the dress up and have her brace against the counter with her hands and fill her with my cum, so she isn’t just marked as mine on her finger, but in her most intimate location too.
Her going back to calling me “boss” was the only thing that stopped me.
She isn’t really comfortable with the idea of “us” yet, despite the kiss.
I made the right decision to pull back last night, but now I’m even more determined to draw her out of her shell.
She’s like a little hermit crab, only venturing out when she feels absolutely safe, and retreating at the slightest sign of danger.
Except…she doesn’t seem to sense any when she speaks to Kenna, who approaches the desk with a grin as fake as a North Korean hundred-dollar bill.
I flex my hand around a letter opener, wanting to yank the two women apart, but restraint is going to be the better play here. I just figured out what kind of pawn Kenna is; if I take her off the board, another piece will replace her. And the next one might be more difficult to identify.
Klein and Kenna talk animatedly about something. Klein flushes. What the hell did Kenna say? She fawns over the ring, her fingers fluttering. It’s a damn good ring, but I don’t buy her reaction.
My mind goes back to the manila envelope.
Just thinking about the contents makes my gut twist. The pink sticky note wasn’t signed, but it had to be from Elizabeth’s team.
I knew she had people whose depth of competence was beyond ours here at the firm, but breaking into my home like that was hitting below the belt.
At the same time, they alerted me that my security has flaws.
I need to be more vigilant and find another, more capable firm to re-secure my home.
But first things first. I turn my focus to Kenna, lest she mess with Klein, who’s in the middle of placing a hand over her chest, her eyes wide. Apparently it’s a signature move—the green-eyed blonde did the same thing in one of the photos that was in the envelope.
In that shot, she was staring at a diamond bracelet a man was holding out for her at some fancy restaurant, her entire face lighting up like a kid at Christmas. That part didn’t bother me. But her date’s face? When I saw it, all the air whooshed out of my lungs.
I didn’t need to read the enclosed report to know who the man was. He’s a carbon copy of Vincent Dunkel, just younger and scarred. It’s gotta be his younger son—the uncle I’ve never met. Mom thought she’d killed him, but apparently she was wrong.
In the high-res photo, a charming smile curves his mouth, and there’s a vicious glint in his eyes that’s just like Mom’s.
But he’s far more cunning and threatening because he’s been living under the radar all these years.
My fingertips are still twitchy from the earlier shock.
He didn’t come back from the “dead” just for the hell of it.
He wants blood—is ready to take his pound of flesh from Mom.
I’m not sure how he plans to use me and my family.
But if he didn’t want to involve us, he wouldn’t have planted Kenna at the firm.
Klein laughs at something Kenna says. Does he plan to use Klein too? Is that why Kenna stops by her desk so often?
When Kenna leaves after a few moments, I hit the intercom. “Klein, come to my office.”
“Coming.” She stands and smooths the dress, so the thin fabric lies neatly over her beautiful body.
As soon as she comes in, I get up and close the door. She tilts her head to look up at me. The pulse in her throat throbs, and I have an impulse to press my lips there and feel her reaction.
“What did you talk about with Kenna?” Focus. That woman didn’t stop by just to chat and gossip.
“Nothing much. Just hellos. She said some nice things about the ring.”
I give her the steady stare I give the opposing counsel who isn’t being entirely honest.
“She, um…” Klein swallows. “She apologized for referring Chad to me.”
“He’s her dentist?” Could be a coincidence, but I lean toward deliberate, especially with anyone connected to a Dunkel.
“Uh-huh. Although she said she’d quit going to him and get a new one.”
Did she now? I scoff inwardly. I take a step toward Klein.
She takes an unconscious half a step back, until she’s almost touching the desk.
She looks entirely too exposed, her eyes as wide and vulnerable as a doe’s.
At any moment, one of the numerous predators in my life could come and tear her apart.
The younger Dunkels would do it gladly, if it would somehow help them gain power over each other before Vincent croaks.
I slap my hands on either side of her, like gates coming down to keep the bad guys away from her.
Her mouth parts. We’re so close I can feel her breath feathering on my cheek.
She smells like the specially formulated soap I ordered from France—a combination of subtle lavender, sandalwood and bergamot.
Mine. And I’d do anything to keep her safe.
“Do you trust me, Klein?” I ask.
She nods.
“How far?”
“Very,” she whispers.
Good. “Stay away from Kenna as much as possible and don’t share anything with her. Nothing outside of what’s strictly necessary for work.” I run the side of my finger down Klein’s soft, warm cheek. “Do this for me, okay? I’ll never let anything happen to you.”