“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you want me to let you go—or help you clear your name, you have to talk to me.”
“Help me? So far all you’ve done is tie me up and drive me God knows where. That’s not helping me, dipshit. That’s kidnapping.” With a huff, she sinks deeper into my jacket, and a muscle in her jaw ticks until I approach my building’s secure parking garage. Coasting to a stop just before the security camera, I unlatch her seatbelt.
“Crouch down as low as you can. There’s a camera over the entrance, and I’m assumin’ you don’t want your face recorded anywhere.”
Shock has her brows arching, but she slides down, curling into a ball on the floor of the car and staring up at me like I’ve just given her the whole world.
This building is secure as fuck, so getting her upstairs is going to be a challenge. One Zephyr willnotlike.
“You’re shitting me,” she says when I kneel next to the open passenger door and explain the plan.
“It’s either that or you can cram yourself into my duffel bag and I’ll carry you upstairs that way.” With a shrug, I make a show of my thumb hovering over the key fob. “There’s a camera in the elevator and one just outside on every floor.”
“Where the fuck did you bring me?” She hunches down in the seat, scanning the parking garage like she expects abodachto pop out any second and put an end to her.
“My place.” I shrug. “Safest option. I only moved in a week ago. My boss still thinks I live in Peabody.”
“I’m not going tomake outwith you,” Zephyr says, shaking her head. “I take back what I said earlier. Youarean idiot.”
“I wasn’t suggestin’ we lock lips. Only that we make itlookthat way. But it’s your choice. I can get the duffel bag.” Before I push to my feet, she lunges for me, but with her hands still bound behind her back, she topples over into my arms. “Whoa. Careful, now.”
“You’re not stuffing me into a bag.” Is that a hint of fear in her voice? Her green eyes plead with me, and I reach for my pocket knife instead.
One quick snap and her wrists are free. “I don’t trust you not to try somethin’, so give me your hands.”
“If you pull out another zip tie…”
With a chuckle, I pop open the glove box and retrieve my scarf. “I only brought four with me. This should be a bit more comfortable.” Winding it around her wrists, I tie the material tightly, but in a manner I hope will look like she’s holding onto the wool. After freeing her ankles, I help her to her feet, carefully angling her so her back is to the camera. “Arms over my head, legs around my waist. Keep your head pressed to my neck like you’re kissing me.”
Zephyr’s lips are soft against my ear. “This is a stupid-ass plan, Ronan. Who’s going to believe we’redating?”
“No one needs tobelieveanythin’. But we do need to hide your face and get you inside.” That shuts her up, and I tip my head back and fake a laugh as I jab the button for the elevator. With how she clings to me, the way her fingers play with my hair, and my arm sliding ever lower toward her ass, weshouldlook like we can’t keep our hands off one another.
“Is there audio?” she whispers when we’re on our way up to the sixth floor.
“No. Another two minutes, and you can stop pretendin’.” I have her pressed to the wall, trying not to notice the softness of her breasts or how her thighs mold to my hips.
Her breath tickles my ear. “Why are you doing this for me?”
I tighten my arm around her, finding the soft skin of her neck with a gentle kiss. “Because for some daft reason, I believe one thing, Zephyr. You’re not a killer. I’d bet my life on it.”
* * *
Zephyr
Clinging to Ronan the whole way from the car, I almost forget I’m his prisoner. That he could turn me in without a second thought and my life would quite literally come to an ugly, agonizing end. But he cared enough to hide my face from the cameras. To make sure I was warm. And he verified customs records fromfour years agoin under ten minutes. Trusting him with all my secrets? I’m not there yet. But he can help me clear my name and maybe…take the Strauss Cartel down for good.
His lock beeps, and I risk a glance. Biometric. A man who values his security. And hopefully…mine?
He sets me down inside the door, lifts my arms over his head, and gently pulls me through the living room, down a hallway, and into a bedroom.Hisbedroom from the dark green duvet, the handful of change in a bowl on the dresser, and the book on the nightstand. It smells like him too. Clean, with a hint of sandalwood.
“Don’t move,” he says as he opens the closet, fumbling around with one hand until he pulls out another set of plastic flexi-cuffs.
“Only serial killers keep that many pairs of zip ties around, you know.”
“Serial killers and private investigators. Do you have to…uh…use the facilities?” Ronan’s eyes never stray from me, and he’s positioned himself between me and the door.
“I haven’t had anything to eat or drink in six hours other than a single bite of a granola bar. So, no. Why? How long are you planning on tying me up this time?” My toes, which were half frozen an hour ago, are warm again. I could fight him. The gun’s still in his holster, and though my hands are bound, they’re in front of me. Could I do enough damage to get to the front door? Dammit. I didn’t check to see what type of lock was on theinside.
