Chapter 3 #3
Good. Lily was not in jeopardy. Time to drop all pretense. Time for Phillip to get the hell out of their way. “Desmond, escort the doc from the room, will you? Lily needs privacy to change.”
Desmond advanced and wrapped one hand around the doc’s right shoulder. “Let’s go.”
The doc jumped. At least two inches. “Wh-what? What are you doing?”
“The door is this way,” Desmond informed him, voice courteous—far more courteous than Atlas’s had been, but then his head of security added, “and, FYI, you getting an ass kicking if you stay in the room and watch the lady change is…” Desmond pointed toward Atlas, “…that way.”
“What?” Shock. Horror. Fear.
The doc scrambled and wisely chose to get the hell out of that exam room. Such a good life choice. The door clicked shut behind him. For a moment, Atlas stared at the closed door.
“Is that how things usually work in your world? You treat people terribly, make demands, and get your hired muscle to ensure things go the way you want?” A considering pause from Lily.
“By the way, the back of your gown is gaping open.” She cleared her throat.
“You have a great ass, even if your attitude leaves much to be desired.”
He felt a smile tug at his lips. Weird to smile after all that had happened that night. He rolled back his shoulders and marched for the exam table. Atlas set the duffle bag on top of the table and pulled out the items inside. A black bra. Matching panties.
“Those can’t be in your size,” she murmured.
“Nope, but they are in yours.” The panties and bra dangled from his fingers.
“And how did your head of security know my size?”
He turned toward her, still holding the underwear. “Because from the first moment that you reached out, requesting that initial one-on-one chat, I made it a point to learn every single thing that I could about you.”
“Everything…like the size of my underwear?”
“Um. I believe in being thorough.” Always.
She grabbed for the panties. And the bra. “So do I.” Her fingers brushed against his.
He felt the spark at her touch, just as he’d felt it before. Even when they’d been in that damn basement.
She yanked her hand—and the underwear—back from him as if she’d been burned.
Surely, she wasn’t afraid of him? Or his touch? Perhaps she should realize that trust was going to be necessary in their relationship. “Didn’t you once spend a month interviewing that serial bomber from Chicago?” Atlas asked the question even though he knew the answer.
Her gaze didn’t falter. “Yes.”
“He wouldn’t talk with anyone else, but he agreed to chat with you. For hours and hours. Told you how he created the bombs, where he planted them, and even how he timed the explosions.”
Her head inclined. “Richard Hawthorne told me all of that.”
He reached into the bag. Pulled out sweatpants. Far too small for him. Just as the sweatshirt he pulled out was too small. He handed both to her. “I suppose you became a bit of an expert on bombs after all that time with Richard.”
“How about you just get right to the point?” She curled her hands around the clothing. “Are you asking me if I set the bomb at the cabin?”
Not exactly. “I’m asking…could you have set the bomb? If you wanted to do so, of course.”
Her eyes glittered at him. “Yes. I could have set the bomb. Did I do it? No.”
He smiled at her. Trust. He’d be the one who showed it first. “I’ll change first, then I’ll go outside so you can have your privacy.”
She whipped around, giving him her back. “I won’t look at you.”
“Why the fuck not? I’m not shy.” He hadn’t told her not to look. In fact, “Look all you want, sweets. Have at me.” He ripped away the hospital gown, balled it up, and tossed it into the nearby garbage can.
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t look back. “I am trying to give you privacy. We are going to have a professional relationship—”
His laughter cut through her words. “I just asked you if you set a bomb that killed a cop, and you think I’m gonna be professional?”
“I did not kill Benedict!” Anger flashed in her words.
No, Atlas didn’t think that she’d killed the cop, but she had cried for him. “Did you fuck him?”
Now she did whip around. Red fired in her cheeks.
“Sorry. I already put on my jogging pants.” He had. “You missed the main show.”
Her gaze immediately dropped at his words. Only to whip back up. “You’re playing with me.”
“Well, admittedly, I’m not some professional when it comes to mind games, not like you are, but I do know how to get by.” That ability came from having a sadistic prick of a father who’d raised him. Molded him. Tried to make him into the worst beast on earth.
Her gaze burned at him. “I did not fuck the poor, dead detective. I met him a few weeks ago. When I first came to the city.”
“When you came to meet me.”
“When I came…to meet you.”
Someone was not telling the full truth. Atlas sighed. “You came to the city because you understood a serial was at play. You thought I was that serial.” He waited for her denial.
None came.
Interesting.
“Benedict was working those homicides,” she said. “That is how our paths crossed.”
Of course, Lily would have done her recon work. Talking to the homicide detective would have been step one for her. She’d probably talked to the ME. Maybe the friends and family members of the victims. He knew she was a very thorough individual.
Something they had in common. “Your path crossed with Benedict.” The cop who’d wanted Atlas locked in a cage.
He was curious—had Benedict told her anything about their previous encounters?
He’d find out, later. For now, deliberately, Atlas said, “Your paths crossed, and you went out with him. On dates.” Was that jealousy bubbling beneath the surface?
Kinda felt like it. Then again, he’d never been jealous before, so he wasn’t really certain.
Maybe it was just rage. Some leftover adrenaline or…
I don’t want her dating anyone else. I sure as hell don’t want her fucking anyone else.
Okay, it was jealousy.
A blink from Lily. “How did you know that Benedict and I went out?”
“You dated him.”
“We went on business dinners.”
Screw that. Detective Benedict Swain had wanted to get in her pants. But Lily had said that she had not fucked the dead cop, so Benedict’s goal had never been achieved. Good to know. “I told you, I do my due diligence.”
She stepped closer. “You were watching me. All that time?”
Not all that time. He did have a business empire to run. Instead of directly answering, he queried, “Weren’t you watching me? Isn’t that how you knew I’d been taken? One good stalking does deserve another.”
Lily sucked in a breath. “I am not a stalker.”
He stared at her.
“Are you?” she threw back.
He smiled.
She backed up a step. That was not the usual response to his smile. In fact, he’d learned early on that his smile was one of his best weapons. It flashed his dimples. It made his eyes sparkle. It made him look more attractive. More inviting. Women usually came closer when he used his grin.
But Lily sensed the threat. She backed away.
And that is why I will enjoy her so much.
Then her lashes flickered. “Did you…did you deliberately allow yourself to get taken?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You tell me.”
So I could kill the bastard. A man I knew was hunting in my city. A predator who needed to be removed from this earth.
Just as Atlas had removed other predators.
But, ah, no, deliberately getting taken had not been the plan. He’d truly been distracted. By her. Thinking too much about her. Wondering what she was doing. Who she was doing it with. Wondering if he could hide his true self from her for long.
I sure as hell never counted on you, Lily. Atlas’s plan had been to eventually eliminate the serial working on his turf. He’d never counted on getting knocked out and waking up cuffed to his new fantasy.
Instead of saying all of that, Atlas extended one palm toward her. “You wanted to interview me. You wanted my secrets. Like I said, I think you’ve earned an all-access pass into my life, but that pass will come with a few conditions.”
She didn’t take his hand. “If it’s all-access, how can it have conditions?”
She was going to be so much fun.
“You have nine scars on your chest,” Lily noted without even batting one long eyelash. “Nine victims were linked to your father. Did he put those marks on you, or did you carve them into your skin yourself?”
“So you checked out my chest. Good to know. I’ve been checking out yours, too.” But his smile slowly faded. Perhaps she would not be as fun as he’d anticipated. “My scars have nothing to do with my father’s victims.” Now he was disappointed because he’d hoped for more from her—
“Do they have to do with your victims?”
His heartbeat kicked up. Did she know what he’d been doing? His extracurricular activities? Or was that just a stab in the dark? “Call me crazy, but I am pretty sure you said I was hero material when we were in the basement. Do heroes typically have victims?”
Her lips parted. Lovely lips.
“Also thought you said you were wrong about me,” he murmured. “Pretty sure I remember that, too, but, then again, I do have a concussion so…”
“In my experience, people are rarely just one thing in this world. Take my mother, for example. She was my room mom in school. The leader of the neighborhood watch group. She sat on the board for two area homeless shelters.” A shrug. “She also killed men who pissed her off.”
“Do you think I kill people who piss me off?” Dammit, this was not the place or the time for this talk.
“Hold the thought.” Because he didn’t want anyone else barging in on them.
For all he knew, the besotted Dr. Phillip Owen would be coming to get another look at Lily.
“You need to get dressed. I’ll wait outside while you do.
” He’d block the door so no one would get to her.
“As far as the pass into my life is concerned, I’ll tell you about my conditions once we are in my limo. ”