Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Asher and the Aussie Liam were sitting on her couch, and she couldn’t help but smile at the two Navy SEALs occupying nearly every square inch of the piece of furniture.
Muscles upon muscles. Tattoos. If they didn’t fit the stereotype of a Teamguy with their swagger and looks, she didn’t know who would.
Why am I thinking about this? Then again, it was better than facing the reality, that her intern could’ve invaded her privacy and watched her naked. Ugh.
“Your place is pretty eclectic.” Liam eyed the pouf in front of her leather chair near the couch. “That Moroccan?”
“How’d you know?”
“Been to Marrakesh a few times.”
“Of course you have.” She thought back to her trip to Morocco and the vendor who’d insisted she buy the pillow-like seating slash table.
She had a habit of bringing items back home from all around the world, and now her apartment was filling up—she’d need a bigger place soon. “Got it in Casablanca.”
“Ah, a romantic city,” Liam said as if remembering something, a grin teasing his lips.
Asher rolled his eyes. “Ladies-Man-Liam, what can I say?”
“What?” She smiled, but then her skin popped with goose bumps, and her whole system seemed to suddenly slow down at the sight of Owen exiting her bedroom.
He had a funny way of calming her when she needed it—but he also had the ability to excite her body to epic proportions at insane times.
She must be on an episode of some dramatic TV show. This couldn’t really be her life.
In real life, would two people have sex in the middle of everything going on? Maybe she and Owen were both equal parts screwed up, so much so they couldn’t even respect their own limits. Would they be able to reset the boundaries?
It’d been easy to avoid messy and complicated relationships over the years since she hadn’t wanted a new relationship. But, in a few days, this man had blown through every one of her barriers and had left her only wanting more of him.
“No new bugs, right?” she asked when Owen stood before her with the same device that federal agents used to sweep her home and office during their random checks.
“We’re good.”
Her cell began buzzing, and it had everyone whirling toward it as if the device were an explosive. She grabbed it off the bar counter and grimaced.
“Who is it?” Owen came up behind her.
“Javier. He just sent me a text. He says I owe him drinks because he got dragged to the Oval Office last night.” She set the phone back down.
“This whole thing is getting out of hand.” She’d never thought a photo would have tangled her up in a spider web of such proportions.
“It’s ten past eight. He should be here soon.
” She turned to face the room, noticing Asher’s booted foot propped on her two-thousand-dollar coffee table.
She wasn’t pretentious, but she could imagine her mother’s jaw hitting the floor.
Liam flipped through a copy of a women’s magazine that had been on the end table. He spun it lengthwise and angled his head. “Sixty-nine ways to spice up your bedroom.” He flicked an index finger at it. “It’s got graphics.”
“Is that porn?” Asher snatched the magazine.
Liam’s eyes nearly twinkled before he winked at her. His second wink of the morning. She was beginning to wonder how many women he’d wooed with that wink. “Damn, I thought men were bad.”
She rolled her eyes, but then sucked in a breath when Owen’s hand wrapped over her wrist and pulled her closer.
“You have a hell of a lot of red lingerie in your dresser,” he whispered into her ear.
Liam’s gaze swerved away from her; he cleared his throat and looked out the window. Asher kept his eyes on the magazine, his brows drawn together, scrutinizing it as if it were a book written in ancient Chinese.
“You noticed that while checking for bugs, huh?” She knew what else he’d probably found: her vibrator.
“Makes it hard to do my job with that kind of distraction.” His voice, low and rough, scraped over her skin.
“I’ll be sure to”—she took a breath, forgetting where they were and why they were there—“remove such distractions if you ever need to check again.”
He parted his lips to speak, but no sound came out. The apology shone in his eyes, though. It was as if he had just done a quick reality check, heard his own words, and realized they had no business exchanging sexual banter at a time like this.
At the sound of a lock turning in the front door, her heart climbed into her throat.
“It’s time,” Owen quietly announced to his buddies.
The men were on their feet, more intimidating than ever with their black military boots paired with jeans, and tees that showed off biceps roped in veins.
Owen pointed to the hall, motioning for her to get out of sight.
Surely Phillip wasn’t dangerous, but she’d follow his orders.
The door creaked open before she heard Phillip shriek, “What the hell!”
“We need to talk,” Owen growled, and from her vantage point, she saw Asher and Liam lunge toward the kitchen in two quick strides.
“Don’t make this hard,” Asher yelled, and she could hear urgent gasps for breath.
She peeked around the corner and found Phillip pinned to the floor.
“Why the hell did you run?” Owen’s knee pressed down into the center of Phillip’s back.
“Phillip?” She rounded the hallway for a better view.
Phillip pivoted his head to the side and looked up to find her. Her dry cleaning lay crumpled inside the plastic on the floor.
Asher kicked the door shut and blocked the exit, while Liam helped Owen lift Phillip to his feet.
“What’s going on, Miss McCarthy?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Why’d you run?” Owen asked again.
Sam held up her palm. “You guys did scare the shit out of him. He probably thought you were going to attack.”
Phillip nodded his head. “Yes.”
“I think you can let him go,” she said softly and folded her arms.
Owen and Liam released their hold and then took a step back as Phillip smoothed his hands down his dress shirt.
Owen nodded his head her way, which she interpreted as an offer to take point. “Phillip, do you remember that deliveryman from my office last week? The one you chased down?”
He squeezed his eyes closed, and sweat dotted his hairline and the sides of his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you ever see him before that day? Did he ever ask you to do anything for him?”
“I-I think I need to sit.” He slowly walked toward her living room and dropped down on her couch, covering his face with his palms.
“You can talk to me. Please, this is a matter of life and death.” She hadn’t expected to get anything out of him, but now, looking at him, she knew she’d been wrong.
His black shoe tapped against the rug beneath the coffee table, and his leg trembled.
“Why were you in Samantha’s apartment for so long last Monday?” Owen came up alongside the couch. When Phillip remained silent, he added, “Someone bugged this apartment.”
His eyes darted to Owen’s face. “What? No! It wasn’t me.”
“Then why are you so nervous? What were you doing up here for so long?” Owen folded his arms, his biceps popping. Cue the extra intimidation factor.
He swiped the sweat from his face and looked up at Sam. “I was looking around. Being nosy. I’m so sorry.”
“You were looking through my things?” Like she needed another creep invading her privacy. “What the hell, Phillip?”
“You’re this strong, powerful woman, and I can’t help but . . . but be attracted to you.” A mortified flush raced up his neck and over his cheeks. He shrugged. “Being in your home is the closest I’ll ever get to being with you.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth and turned away, not sure what to think or feel.
“You didn’t answer the question about the deliveryman.” Owen’s voice was rough and intense; it even had the hairs on her arms standing up. “Answer me. If you lie to me, I’ll find out.”
“No, it wasn’t him.” Phillip’s voice was little more than a squeak.
“But someone?” Owen raised a brow.
Phillip finally nodded. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but he threatened me.”
“Who? What’d he say?” she rushed out, her spine bowing at the news.
“Four weeks ago, some guy showed up at my apartment with a mask. You know, the scary kind? With only the eyes cut out?” He cringed. “He offered me a lot of money to make a copy of your key.”
“Oh my God. How could you?” Betrayal cut through her tone. All this time, she’d thought he was just a nervous guy, but one of the good ones.
“I didn’t! I refused.” He shook his head, his brows pinching together. “I was worried he’d kill me if I didn’t cooperate, but, uh, surprisingly, he only said he’d kill me if I ever told anyone about the offer.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Owen motioned for Phillip to stand, and he obeyed. “Did anyone else ever approach you? Make threats?”
“No. I swear.” His gaze darted back and forth between Sam and Owen.
“Do you believe him?” Owen glanced back at Sam.
“I honestly don’t know,” she murmured.
Owen scrubbed a hand over his jaw and stepped back from Phillip.
“I want you to go to work and pretend like this morning never happened.” He cocked his head to the side, staring into Phillip’s eyes.
“That man who showed up at your house, he’s nowhere near as scary as I am.
You got it?” His voice could pave a road, it was so hard and heavy.
Sam stepped forward. “What? We’re letting him go?”
“Fire him after we catch the bastard. If this guy is keeping tabs on you, he’ll suspect something if Phillip doesn’t show up to work,” Owen explained. He turned back toward the intern. “And if you’re lying to me—”
Phillip’s palms went into the air. “I’m not,” he half-cried.
She glared at Phillip. “You should’ve told me. I could have protected you.”
“When we started, you warned me that we could get threats,” Phillip said. “But I was too scared to report it. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she left the living room and went to her bedroom, closing the door behind her, in desperate need of space.