Chapter Seven
As soon as he entered his home office, his burner phone rang with Unknown as the caller. He locked the door behind him and settled into his chair before answering.
“Spécialiste.”
“Oui,” Max said.
His man continued to speak in French. “We received intel that product is coming on a cargo ship called the Navigator.”
“Sinclair hasn’t told me about this.”
“It’s not his.”
Max cursed under his breath. “Voclain. What time?”
“Noon.”
“Gather the men and meet me at the wharfs.”
“Oui.”
He hung up. Rising, he headed over to the hidden panel and punched in the code to open it. He grabbed his nine mil, loaded it and then stuck another magazine in his pocket before closing and locking the safe.
Heading out, he addressed his man at the door. “Your number one priority is her. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything happens to her, you better have died protecting her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Max rode the elevator down to the parking garage, and moments later he was on his way to Long Beach. The only thought in his head was to destroy the Voclain property, and if Savage happened to be there, even better.
He arrived at the wharf and his men joined him as they headed to the dockmaster, who had given the tip.
Payment was made, ensuring that the shipping wharfs remained under his control.
The Voclain family could go to hell. He hated them with every cell in his body, and if he could burn them out of existence, he would happily set the pyre aflame.
Watching the gantry cranes move the large cargo containers, he patiently waited until he spotted the container number.
The box was lowered on the ground and Max nodded for his men to break the lock.
As soon as the metal doors opened, crates were pulled out and crowbars pried open the lids.
Max inspected one and pulled out an orange porcelain horse, a replica of a Tang Dynasty antique.
He dropped it and it shattered on the ground, revealing a light grey powder on the inside.
“Assholes,” he muttered. He snapped his fingers. “Destroy these fucking horses and take the blow to Hades. He might want to know Voclain is trying to muscle into his territory as well.”
His men knew what to do. Maybe this was the very thing he needed to flush Savage out so he could finally carve his heart from his chest and feed it to him.
****
Time rolled by and the doughnut she’d eaten had disappeared long ago. Rising, she decided to find the kitchen to see if there was something to eat.
“Max?” Quinn called out, but the penthouse was so huge she doubted he could hear her. Besides, she didn’t want to disturb his work. Heading into the kitchen, her jaw dropped when she took in the opulence.
Running her hand over the solid wood custom cabinets, the craftsmanship was exquisite. High-end appliances, quartz countertop, a huge island, everything was white and bright. When she opened the refrigerator, it was stocked with food. Her stomach growled so she hoped Max was okay with her cooking.
She hunted until she found everything she needed, like a skillet and spices.
It didn’t take long for her to whip up some pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
The dining room table had an excellent view over the marina, and as she ate, she heard commotion from the other part of the penthouse and a moment later, Max came to a stop as he saw her.
“Hi,” she greeted.
“You cook?” he asked.
“I do. I assume you cook as well. That kitchen is amazing.”
“Thank you.” He sat down next to her. “And, yes, I do cook. I don’t trust a lot of prepared meals. Too much salt. Too many ingredients I can’t pronounce.”
She grinned. “Would you like me to fix you breakfast food for dinner? I have more batter I can use.”
“No, I’m good,” he replied. “But thank you. The swelling around your eye has gone down a lot.”
She gently touched the tender area. “Yeah. It’s a lovely green color.”
“At least it seems to be healing.”
“Do you think it’s safe for me to return to my apartment?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why? You’re here now.”
“I can’t impose on you—”
“Not up for debate.”
Suddenly, she was very nervous. Her heart rate went up and a shiver of awareness rushed through her. She kept glancing at his mouth, wanting to kiss him. Frantically, she tried to think of something to say and just blurted the first than that came to mind.
“You know, um, I read a magazine article a couple of days ago about forced perception, and I hate to say it, but the arguments are very convincing.”
He cocked his head, studying her. Was he able to see through her nervousness? “I agree. I’ve seen many of the ones they focused on, like The Arnolfini Portrait, and remembering thinking along the same lines.”
They fell silent. The conversation hadn’t gone as far as she hoped it would.
“Quinn,” he said. “I want you to be comfortable in my home.”
They stared at one another in the soft light. She wondered what he would say if she told him she wanted to kiss him. Or if she even had the guts to say anything. The debate raged inside her and she wondered if she should pursue it. The only hesitation was what would happen when he got bored of her?
Her work had become the most important thing in her life.
Even more than Bryan. Slowly, she came to realize that the feelings she had for Max went deeper than being merely his assistant.
Every decision she had made in the past year had been with him in mind.
Could she give that up if—when—things were over?
She wished she knew the protocols of sleeping with the boss.
Should she ignore the attraction and continue on as they were?
Would they be able to talk things out? Have everything fall back into place when it was done?
Max was still Max, and she ... well, a tiny little part of her thought she was fast on her way to falling hard for her boss.
Did he feel the same way? Or was she projecting her own desires on to him?
“Quinn?”
She snapped back to attention. “Yes?”
“Where did you go?”
“Just, you know, would you ... like ... to watch a movie?”
A sly smile curled the corner of his lips. “Sure.”
For the next two hours they watched a horror movie, because the last thing she wanted to do was sit through a romance when Max’s leg kept brushing against hers.
The jump scares didn’t even bother her because she was so hyper focused on him.
When it was over, she bid a hasty good night and hurried off to bed, acutely aware she was running like a coward.