Chapter 2 #2
Oh, sure he would. Probably the room right next door to Frederick’s own bedroom.
Nice try, prick. “I’ll stay, too.” Brisk.
“If the weather is as you predict, then travel might not be wise.” As if he’d leave Simone unprotected.
She was a pawn in his game, but the woman was not going to be a victim.
Not on his watch. He’d never been a fan of collateral damage.
Simone flashed him a warm, gorgeous smile. It was a slow smile, one that started at the edges of her mouth and ended with her blue eyes flashing at him. Her bright blue eyes and her dark, sleek hair were such a contrast. Beautiful.
“Will you be wanting one bedroom…” Frederick asked, body tense, “or two?”
“One,” Ryan fired.
“Two,” Simone announced at the same time.
Their heads whipped toward each other again.
One of her dark eyebrows quirked. “Two,” she repeated with a shake of her head. “Ryan, I hardly know you well enough to share a room with you. Three dates do not equal one bed.”
Dammit. His back teeth snapped together. He’d wanted one bedroom to better protect her.
And to increase your odds of fucking her. Don’t even lie to yourself.
No, no—he was not going to fuck Simone. That had not been on the to-do list. Or, maybe it hadn’t been until he’d kissed her, and his whole body had surged with the strongest lust he’d felt in years. Or, maybe, ever.
No. You do not fuck women when you are lying to them. That shit is not cool. You do not do that. You’re an asshole, but you are not a total bastard. At least, not yet.
“Two rooms.” Frederick tapped his chin. “Done. All guest rooms here are fully stocked with necessary toiletry items and bathrobes.”
Wasn’t that convenient? Ryan rolled back his shoulders and focused on his host once more. “The rooms will need to be next to each other.”
Looking smug, Frederick nodded. “Sure. I can make that happen.”
Outside the third-floor window, a flash of lightning blazed across the dark night.
No thunder rumbled. Not yet. Ryan found himself waiting for the sound. Maybe the storm wasn’t as close as old Freddie was trying to predict.
Thunder boomed.
Simone sucked in a sharp breath. Her hand rose to linger over her chest.
That sexy, sexy chest…her gorgeous breasts pushed hard against the dipping top of her red gown.
Be a gentleman, asshole. Stop staring at her breasts.
His gaze whipped up. For just a moment, he could have sworn that he caught…amusement…in her stare. But, no, surely not? Because this was not some fun scene. Men had just pointed guns at her.
Simone’s long lashes swept down, and when she stared at him again a moment later, her expression showed her fear. Her worry.
He found himself easing ever closer to her.
Wanting to protect Simone. She was in way over her head.
The woman had no clue that she was swimming with sharks.
“It is unacceptable,” he bit out as one hand closed around her shoulder, “that your men pulled guns on Simone tonight. She must be terrified.”
She wet her lips. “I’ve never…never had guns aimed at me before.”
He glared at Frederick. “And your guards are still here, hulking about. Don’t you think it’s time you sent them away?” He especially didn’t like the way Alexei was eyeing Simone.
“Their job isn’t complete yet,” Frederick told him. “You both have to be searched before you are allowed to leave the gallery.”
What the fuck? Now he wasn’t just holding Simone’s shoulder. He’d launched his body right in front of hers. “Any man who tries to search her will find his fingers immediately broken.”
Frederick laughed. “Such a bold claim.”
Yeah, shit. It had been bold. He’d meant the words, but he’d dropped character for a moment when the visual of Alexei or Frederick putting hands on Simone flashed through his mind.
He was supposed to be the billionaire who did not get his hands dirty.
He certainly didn’t engage in fistfights in the middle of posh, private galleries.
So, different tactic time. Though he had, one hundred percent, been truthful about his intent to break fingers.
If one of those bastards tried to frisk Simone, fingers would be broken.
“How is this for a bold claim?” He sent a smile straight at Frederick.
“Forget my offer of an investment. If you can’t trust me to stroll into your precious gallery and not steal from you, then clearly you cannot trust me in a business deal. ”
There it was. A break in Frederick’s mask. Desperation. The man wanted money. Badly. So badly that he’d been willing to work with some extremely dirty international players. The kind of players that routinely dumped bodies and made their enemies disappear.
Frederick was getting pulled into that dark world, and he needed a lifeline.
Unfortunately for Frederick, Ryan wasn’t so much a lifeline as he was…the man who is going to send you to prison. So, surprise.
“Fine,” Frederick bit out. “No physical searches of your bodies.”
Damn straight there would not be any of those.
“I think…” Simone’s low voice. “I think I’ve had more than enough excitement for one night. This is, uh, a lot for me.”
Yes, he was sure it was. Having guns shoved at her. Having a prick boss who wanted to search her.
“I’d love to just go to an available guest room,” Simone continued in her soft, husky tone.
“We’ll both go to our rooms.” Ryan maintained his protective position near her. “The rooms that will be right next to each other.”
Nostrils flaring, Frederick nodded. “Of course.”
No doubt, Frederick Bradwin hated him, but he needed Ryan’s money. When you needed billions of dollars, you tended to be accommodating.
Twining his fingers with Simone’s, Ryan headed for the doors. They’d almost reached the doors when…
“Simone!” Frederick had followed them. “Simone, I need to look in your bag.”
“The fuck he does,” Ryan gritted back.
But Simone had pulled away. “He’s my boss,” she whispered.
She opened her bag and hurried toward Frederick.
“Here. Not much is inside.” Right when she reached him, she stumbled, one of her ankles seeming to twist in those sexy high heels that she wore.
Even as Ryan reached for her, she was colliding with Frederick.
Her hands slammed into Frederick’s chest. She fumbled, righting herself, and, of course, Frederick tried to grab hold of her, too.
Ryan pulled her back, his brows lowering in concern. “You okay?”
Frederick had snagged her small bag. Of course, the prick was looking into it and not checking on Simone. Typical.
“I…my ankle just twisted. I’m fine, really, I—Ryan!”
He scooped her into his arms. The better to get her the hell out of there, fast, and…hell. The better to hide the small item he’d stolen. The item currently inside one of the interior pockets in his tux.
He was such an asshole sometimes.
But an asshole who would protect her.
“This is unnecessary.” One of her arms had curled behind his neck. “It was just me being clumsy. I’m fine.”
Their eyes were inches apart. That tempting mouth of hers was so close. Sadly, their audience was close, too. Time to ditch the jerks. “Her bag,” he demanded imperiously.
Frederick shoved the bag toward them.
Simone snagged it. “This is so embarrassing.”
Probably not her best date ever. Jeez. He could do fabulous dates. Really, he could wine, and he could dine. Alas, that was not in the cards for them. At least, not that night, and, sadly, probably never. He’d be completely gone from her life soon.
She clutched the bag with her left hand while her right arm still curled around his neck. Satisfied that she had her belongings and that it was definitely time to go, he strode for the doors.
“You can’t actually take me out into the crowd this way,” she muttered. “We will draw far too much attention.”
He didn’t particularly care about attention. He did care about getting her away from the goons with guns.
Frederick beat him to the doors. “I’ll escort you to the guest rooms,” he said. “Personally.”
Figured that would be the case.
“What else could I do for my future business partner?” Frederick offered him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
It was cute that the man actually seemed to believe they would be partners. Not gonna happen. Within the next twenty-four hours, Ryan intended to arrest the creep.
Fun point to know, Ryan wasn’t a billionaire looking to invest wads of cash.
He wasn’t some bored trust fund brat who had money to burn.
He was a CIA operative, working undercover.
His mission was to find evidence to tie Frederick Bradwin to one of the deadliest criminal masterminds in Europe, and, thanks to his little side quest in the gallery, he now had that evidence tucked in his pocket.
The alarm had sounded when Ryan stole his prize and replaced it with a fake.
A fake that would not be discovered until it was much, much too late.
But now, he had to protect his pawn. Had to make sure that Simone was sheltered from the coming storm.
Not just the rain and the lightning, but the absolute chaos that would come when the CIA swarmed and Frederick’s world crashed down around him.
He carried her to the bed. A big, antique brass bed on the second floor of the house. Based on Ryan’s calculations, Simone’s guest room was directly beneath the gallery. So was his, considering that he’d be taking the room right next door.
“I take it that this room is acceptable?” Frederick inquired from the doorway.
“Perfect.” Simone’s soft reply as her arm slid away from Ryan. “Thank you.”
“You’re next door,” Frederick informed Ryan. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have other guests waiting.”
He had a non-stop party, check. Not like Frederick would want to miss that fun.
“I will look forward to our upcoming talk, Ryan,” Frederick added. “I think our partnership will be very beneficial for us both.” A moment later, the door clicked closed.
Simone released a slow breath. Ryan realized that he was still looming over the bed. Still looming over her. He should step back. Probably offer an apology for the kiss in the gallery. Probably attempt some serious damage control with her.
But when he started to step back, her hand flew out and curled around his arm. Staring straight into his eyes, and with a small smile playing at her red lips, Simone said, “Ryan Quinn, you are a liar.”
Yep, guilty as charged. Straight to his soul. “I can explain,” he began. Because he could. He could spin a bullshit story in an instant.
Except he didn’t get a chance to explain because sweet Simone pulled him toward her, and her mouth pressed to his.
So, yeah, screw explanations.
Lust surged through his veins.