Chapter 16 #2
"Not going to kill you," Nash said. "You're welcome.
We're not even going to hurt you. Unless you do something stupid.
We're just going to make the rest of your stay on Isadora inconvenient, to ensure you stay away from Lena and Cassidy.
Your boss wants the jewels found. He doesn't need to worry. It's being handled."
The man made a disgusted noise in his throat.
"And one more thing." Nash lowered his voice, but didn't filter the threat in his tone. "If you touch Lena again, I will hurt you."
His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Your ride's here. Time to go." He motioned for the man to open the front door.
"You broke my nose," the man said.
"I'm aware. You're lucky that's all I broke." He waved the gun toward the door. "Move."
The man opened the door, and Nash escorted him down to the front steps just as Jason was pulling up. Knox hopped out and secured the man in the backseat while Jason walked around the car to Nash.
Jason lifted his chin. "What do we need to know?"
"He didn't give his name, but Ruben hired him. He's looking for Cassidy."
Jason gave a curt nod. "And that's why you had to break his nose?"
"He had his hands on Lena," Nash said, not trusting himself to explain further. The rage he'd barely tamped down still hummed in his veins.
"Understood," Jason said. "We'll babysit him for a while, and then we'll have to send him on his way."
"Keep him out of our way until after the party tomorrow night. I have a feeling Ruben's dangling a hefty sum in front of him to track down Cassidy, thinking that will recover the jewels. He seems pretty motivated."
Jason nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem to get either Drakos' security or the local police to hold him for forty-eight hours. They'll cut him loose after that."
"That works," Nash said.
The unspoken question in Jason's gaze made Nash uncomfortable. "What?"
"You good? You seem less calm and collected than usual."
Nash wasn't sure how to respond. He gave him the truth, but kept it short. "I told you. He had his hands on Lena."
Fresh concern flashed across Jason's face. "Is she okay? Do we need to—"
Nash raised a hand. "She's not injured. But I need to go check on her.
Just keep that guy out of my way. I messed with the AC here in the house.
That will cover our story for leaving. Lena will get her things together, and I'll bring her to The Mandeville to stay tonight. We can keep her safer there."
"It's a good plan." Jason scratched his jaw. "Your apartment's in a separate building, though. How do you explain you staying at The Mandeville?"
"Delphine thinks Lena and I are a couple. Let her think that. Lena needed to stay at The Mandeville for the air conditioning, so I tagged along." He shrugged. "She'll buy that."
"We're good to go," Knox called from the opposite side of the car.
Jason slipped on his sunglasses and lifted his chin toward Nash. "We're outta here. See you tonight. Stay sharp."
"Always," Nash responded with a tight nod, then trotted back inside and beelined for the kitchen.
He rounded the corner and spotted Nutmeg lapping at his water bowl. The furball raised his head, acknowledged Nash, and dove back into his drink, apparently recovered from his trauma.
Lena stood near the sink, one arm wrapped around herself, the other hand lightly touching her neck. Her delicate form looked so fragile—unlike the strength surging in her eyes. He walked over to her, stepping into her personal space. Because he couldn't help himself.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
She nodded. "I am. I mean, he freaked me out, but . . . I wanted to scream, but . . . I didn't get the chance. You need to teach me some of those moves."
"I could do that," he said.
His gaze caught on the inflamed red spots where the attacker's fingers had dug into her. The sickening sight . . . and the memory . . . poured acid into his stomach. His throat thickened. "You're sure you're okay? When I saw you . . ." His hands found hers.
The expression on her face suggested he wasn't hiding his feelings well. "Nash . . ."
Of their own volition, his lips pressed to hers.
She stilled. Then leaned in, welcoming his kiss. Her response was warm, tender, and left him wanting more.
They kept the kiss brief, but when he eased back to look into her eyes, he couldn't catch his breath.
"I shouldn't have left you alone. I should've cleared your room before—"
"No. Stop. Nash, I'm okay. Let's just—"
Nutmeg yipped and planted his front two paws on Lena's legs. She slipped her hands from Nash's. "Nutmeg needs to go out."
Why did it suddenly feel like they had a twelve-pound teddy-bear chaperone? Nash cleared his throat. "I'll take him. Go ahead and get your things together, and we'll head over to The Mandeville."
She nodded. "I just need five minutes." She walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts. And an impatient, vanilla-lavender scented Maltipoo.
God? Did I just make a mistake? That was so unprofessional. Why did it feel so right?
It would be easy to explain away the kiss with the adrenaline of the moment. She'd just been attacked. Emotions were running high for both of them. He could play it off that way later if he felt she wanted him to.
But deep in his bones, he knew, for his part, that the kiss was more than an emotional rush or physical attraction. He admired Lena Ashworth. He respected her. And he hoped to get to know her better after all of this was over.
In the meantime, God, please help me focus on keeping her safe.