Chapter 46
Chapter
Forty-Six
Kate woke up the next morning, sighing, stretching, and wincing at the slight soreness of her body, like she’d just done a marathon of Zumba classes or something. She smiled.
Then sat bolt upright.
She was sliding around on million-thread-count sheets. The room smelled like expensive cologne and sex. She wrapped the sheet around her.
Crap crap crap.
She looked at the clock. Seven a.m. Seven o’clock in the morning. There would probably be reporters camped everywhere. They’d just accused her of sleeping with her boss, which she’d categorically and righteously denied.
So, naturally, she went ahead and slept with her boss.
Her parents were right. She had impulse control issues.
Thomas wasn’t in the bed with her. She rustled around in the dark, searching frantically for her clothes.
She’d left her jacket and tie in the living room, and her shoes, she noticed, and the stockings were missing.
But she was able to gather up her undies, skirt, and blouse.
Clumsily, she pulled them on in the dark, wondering what she ought to say to him.
Thanks for dinner, and all of the sexing. That was, after all, a fantastic grilled cheese. Ahem.
I may be a tiny bit late into the office?
Can we do this again some time?
No. On that last one, absolutely not.
She crept across the floor, heading out to the living room. Seven a.m. Maybe he’d made coffee. Maybe he’d cooked her breakfast. Those seemed like the classy, over-the-top sort of things he’d do. He could be standing in the kitchen, just wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, making her crepes.
She saw the light on in the living room, and headed for it.
“We got a call,” she heard Yagi’s voice say, and she froze.
It was one thing to see Thomas. But shame-walking in yesterday’s stylist nightmare in front of his already judgmental bodyguard was something else.
“Oh?” That was Thomas. Hmm. Maybe she should go back, start making loud noises to encourage Thomas to get Yagi out of there. Unless—maybe Thomas didn’t want Yagi to know she was there?
She winced. This just got worse and worse.
“It was from Victor Klauss,” Yagi continued, breaking through her spiraling thoughts.
What the hell?
“He saw the press conference, like we’d hoped. He says he knows what we’re trying to do, and he’s offering us a shot.”
“A shot?” Thomas sounded puzzled. “At what?”
“He knows we’re trying to trap him with his ‘pretty little girl’ and he wanted us to have our chance.”
Okay, “trap him with the pretty little girl” WHAT THE HELL? Kate’s subconscious shouted, but she still stayed rooted to the spot.
“He says that if we want to use Kate as bait, we ought to at least put her someplace sporting, instead of headquarters or The Havens.”
Kate waited for Thomas to tell his bodyguard, and Victor, exactly where he could shove his deal. Instead, Thomas’s voice was pensive. “Did he offer any suggestions as to where we should do it instead?”
“He was thinking Ogawa Plaza, or maybe the Coliseum. Nice and public. Plenty of exposure. Plenty of chances to capture, on both our parts.”
“Hmmm.”
Tell him to fuck off, Thomas! She was projecting the thought so hard, she suspected she could knock him out with it. You’re not using me to grab that psychopath!
“What do you think?” Thomas said instead. Kate felt her hands ball into fists.
“I think that we should consider it,” Yagi said. “It’s a setup, obviously. But given his personality and his background, I think he likes the idea of toying with us. He thinks he’s smarter than we are, and stronger. He doesn’t imagine that he will fail.”
Kate swayed a little, remembering just how strong Victor Klauss had been. Violently beating and nearly killing her had made a hell of an impression.
“We might be able to use that overconfidence against him,” Thomas mused.
“I want to research more, see what he’s got in mind, why he’s so confident,” Yagi said. “But otherwise, I would say yes.”
“Come up with a solid plan,” Thomas said, his voice ringing like steel. “I don’t want to go into this with anything half-assed.”
Kate sneaked back to the master bedroom, then made a big show of running the faucet in the master bath, washing her face, flushing the toilet. When she came out, Thomas was waiting for her, a cup of coffee in his hand.
“Have a good night’s sleep?” he asked, with a warm smile.
A warm, lying smile.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “This was a huge mistake. Even for me, this was banner. So do me a favor, and we’ll never speak of this again.”
He blinked. “Ashamed of me?” he said, and while his tone was joking, she got the impression that he was actually hurt. Or rather, he gave off that impression.
And the Oscar goes to…
“I don’t think this is what you want, either, so let’s just stick to business from here on out, okay?” she said, trying to keep her own hurt out of it. She could act, too.
He put the coffee cup down on a nearby bureau. “All right, Kate. If that’s what you want.”
She didn’t want. She wanted to go right back into his arms. She wanted him to be the guy who’d given her a chance and a job. The one who couldn’t stand watching her die. The one who mourned for his fiancée and risked his life and soul to save someone he loved.
She wanted Thomas to be a good guy, one who would protect her. One who accepted her for who she was. One who listened to her and forgave her mistakes.
A guy who, for frickin’ once, didn’t think she was a loser who obviously didn’t see what was really important…
Namely, him.
As long as I’m wishing, I’d like a pony and a trip to Europe.
“Can I at least take you to dinner?” he said, surprising her out of her bitter thoughts. “Just a business dinner, any place you want. We never did talk about your duties or what you’d be doing on the job.”
A dinner, huh? Someplace nice and public and easy to get kidnapped from, I’ll bet.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, moving out to the living room. Yagi was gone, thank God. She scooped up her jacket and tie, slipped into the shoes.
“Hey,” he said, moving next to her, “you okay?”
She wished he wasn’t such a good actor.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, sounding hollow to her own ears.
“Take the day off,” he said. “I’ll call you about that dinner.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
He stopped her by putting a gentle hand on her wrist. Reluctantly, she turned to face him. He was close. Too close.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Last night? The thing we’re not supposed to talk about?” he murmured. “I won’t forget it. Or you. Not ever.”
She closed her eyes, leaning against him for a second.
Liar.
She pulled away, turned, and walked out.