He’s seriously got on the wrong end of that analogy. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. There’s nothing big enough planned this early in the season.”
“Except Petrovic’s party.”
“That’s in two days and the plus-ones are restricted to family only.”
“So, pop a ring on her finger. What’s the problem? Are you afraid that if you change your mind later, she won’t take no for an answer?” His riotous laugh tells me he finds the whole situation a bit too amusing.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Are you really going to keep her locked away here when she could earn you top-notch intel by going out in the world? And don’t tell me it’s not safe. That party will have more guards in it than any other event we host.”
“Yeah. Most of them will be off their faces.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t be able to defend one teeny tiny female.” Andrej gives a nonchalant shrug. “But it’s no skin off my nose. Hide her away and lose the best chance you have to root out everyone involved in the original kidnap.”
“Is that how you did it? When your stepdaughter was taken?”
“No.” He stands, stretching out his lower back and cricking his neck from side to side until it pops. “And to this day I’m not certain we ever got everyone involved, even though we had a ransom demand that pointed fingers. Believe me, your sleep will be interrupted plenty without adding thoughts of the perpetrators getting away to the burden.”
“I’ll consider it.”
He slaps my shoulder as though this short meeting somehow solidified us as buddies. But in reality, he’ll go back to Auckland, waiting for intel from whatever spy he’s planted in my household, and I’ll pass every detail of the meeting to Stefan, Teodor, and Micah so they can continue to check on his story.
Still… “Thanks for telling me.” When he lifts his brow, I say, “About your stepdaughter. It’s good to know that it’s possible to move past something like this.”
“Move past it?” Andrej frowns and shakes his head. “Don’t know where you got that idea. Why’d you think Amala still lives with me? I’d have Eloise under lock and key, too, except she can’t stand the sight of me.”
As his vehicle pulls away from the house, I stare after him. Is he lying, misdirecting, telling the truth?
I don’t know but the idea he planted in my head deserves lengthy consideration. Just because it makes me feel insane to think of exposing Isabelle doesn’t mean the plan won’t bear fruit.
Isabelle might even want to attend. To help. She’s already put her neck on the line to aid my daughter once before; going to a party with ample protection shouldn’t faze her.
Still turning the idea over in my mind, I return to my office to watch on the monitors and make sure Andrej leaves my property.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
ISABELLE
I wake early on Sunday morning to a weird sensation that I can’t immediately place. I’m lying flat on my stomach and, as I struggle closer to consciousness, my eyes flick open to alight on Baxter, only a few inches away from me.
“Good morning,” he whispers, one arm supporting his head and the other stretching farther down.
He’d asked me into his room last night, an invitation I’d taken all of three milliseconds to think about before agreeing. No belts were harmed in the pursuit of our evening entertainment, but we’d occupied ourselves, regardless.
The strange feeling hits me again. A vibration through my nether regions. “Is it a good morning?” I stretch and try to peer over my shoulder to see what his unseen hand is up to. “What’re you doing?”
“Playing.”
There’s the odd vibration again and I roll over, but he immediately turns me back onto my front. “No moving until I say so.”
“Mm-hm.” I finally identify the sensation as it occurs again. “Would you be twanging my butt plug at the crack of dawn?”
“I might be.”
“And on the lord’s day.”
“Hey, it’s my day of rest, too.” He abandons his target to pull me hard against his chest instead. “So, I get to decide where to spend my attention.”
