She did, however, bite her bottom lip as if she was thinking about what I said. Imogen always thought about what everyone said—another thing I loved about her. She was kind and sweet, tenacious, yet contemplative. Unlike me, she didn’t decide things on the spur of the moment. She thought through her options.
“Does it make me a bad person if I lie to my mother about this?”
“No.” Any time you could lie to a parent about being kidnapped, you should absolutely do so. The fact that Imogen even questioned it made her even sweeter.
I took the phone from her hands and brought up her mother’s contact. Corbin had even taken the time to find her profile on Facebook and then uploaded her mother’s picture to the contact. I found it a little creepy, but I also appreciated the effort.
“I’m pretty sure it’s impossible for you to be a shit person, beautiful. You’re too good through and through,” I said, laying my hand between her breasts and tapping over her heart.
When I dropped my hand, she went back to more lip chewing. “I don’t know. I’ve stolen a lot of stuff lately.”
“Babe, let’s think about this for a minute. Telling your mom only parts of the story will help her not stress out, right?”
She nodded aggressively. “Yes. Absolutely. And she does have a tendency to stress out. I think she was more nervous for me when I took my state licensing boards than I was. She called me three times a day to check my test scores.”
“Because she loves you. She most definitely would not want to hear that her daughter was kidnapped. Just make up a good story so she feels better. My mother doesn’t know ninety percent of the stuff Corbin and I do. She’d be up all night worried.”
She met my gaze, taking her attention from the phone. “What does your mother think you do?”
I shrugged. We always left things a little open-ended. We had enough family money that my mother knew we’d never go hungry, and she understood that some of our investments had been successful, but she didn’t know the true extent of the wealth we’d built through government contracts and Corbin’s amazing computer skills.
“Right now she thinks we’re considering moving into the real estate market, which is why we’ve been in America so long considering places. Every once in a while, she sends us a listing for an area she thinks we should invest in. It keeps her busy.”
“And there’s no guilt that you lie to her?”
“Not in the slightest. She’s blissfully unaware of what goes on around here, so she can live a happy life not burdened by any poor choices we make. It’s our way of looking out for our mother the only way we can.” She didn’t need money or guidance. What she needed was a good night’s sleep because she didn’t get very many of them when Corbin and I were young. “Does that make me a shit person?”
Imogen thought about my question longer than I wanted. “Maybe, but probably not.”
“Then do what you need to keep your mother happy.”
It was a closed-mouth, tight smile but a smile, nonetheless. “Okay, I’ll tell her I went on a spontaneous girls’ trip with ladies from work, and that’s where I met you. She’ll be so wrapped up in a man being in my life she’ll forget about anything else.”
“Perfect,” I replied, giving her another kiss on the cheek.
Not only because she agreed to my plan and admitted it was a good one, but I loved the fact she was already going to tell her mother about me. I was one step closer to worming my way into every aspect of Imogen’s life.
Did it make me a bad person that I tried to infiltrate every aspect of her world so she couldn’t get rid of me? Possibly, but I’d deal with the fallout because the reward was worth it.
Imogen pressed dial on her mother’s number and I leaned back against the headboard beside her, there for comfort if she needed it.
CHAPTER 19
IMOGEN
Later, after a lie-filled call to my mother where I met Cyrus on a sunset cruise, he smiled at me, and my heart wasn’t the only thing clenching in anticipation.
Down, girl. The man just survived a kidnapping and being stabbed. I was a damn excellent nurse, but that didn’t mean Cyrus was ready to do anything else besides lie in bed and watch TV.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, setting the television remote on the nightstand.
I looked away and continued pretending the bottle of soap from the hotel shower was the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen. “Looking at you like what?” I feigned innocence.
I definitely looked at him a certain way.
Cyrus chuckled. “I can’t decide if you want to stab me or do something else.”
“What else?” I asked way too quickly after he finished his sentence.Not a way to be cool, Imogen.
