Sera rolls her hips, and my dick thickens instantly, making my brain slower to catch up than usual.
“Fired?”
“Yep. They’re done with her. Last night was the final straw.”
I nod, but something in her tone is too casual. Alarm bells go off in my head. I slide my hands up to her waist, and I squeeze. “Last night?”
She plants her hand against my chest and presses her lips together. “Okay, I need to tell you something, and I need you to count to ten before you freak out. Remember I’m sitting here on your lap, and everything worked out fine.”
My skin prickles, and my fingers curl into her. “What happened?”
“The hotel fire alarm went off, and two guys dressed as security guards tried to get Keke and me to leave with them through a side exit.” She shrugs one shoulder. “It felt wrong, so I refused, and then my dad showed up, and the guys ran off.” She arches a brow. “Nothing happened.” She over-enunciates the words.
Nothing happened.
For a second, I forget how to breathe. A knot of ice forms behind my ribs. I can only stare at her while she continues.
“I briefed Brady when we got back to the room. That was the last straw for the Atelier. They’re worried she is too much of a target right now.”
Her pointer finger starts rubbing at the thumb of the hand still resting on my chest, which only tightens the vise around my lungs. “Tell me.”
She makes a face, blows out a breath, and throws her hands up. “It’s going to sound paranoid, but I don’t think Keke was the target. I think I was.”
My pulse thunders in my ears to the same repeated refrain.You weren’t there. You left her.
“Hey!” Sera’s sharp voice snaps her frowning face back into focus. “Are you listening to me?”
“Of course,” I manage.
“When Keke ran off, the two guards didn’t care. The taller one just whipped out his stupid stun gun.”
Her thighs clamp around my waist, and her hands lock behind my neck as I surge to my feet, taking her with me.
“Whatfuckingstun gun!” I feel like I might be having a stroke.
The wordstargetandstun gunin any relation to my wife detonate like a nuclear bomb in my brain, obliterating everything but the image of her cornered, alone in a hallway, two armed strangers grabbing at her.
Sera clings to me like a monkey while I pace the small room furiously. She lets go with one hand—I support her with my forearm under her ass—and grabs my jaw, squeezing hard, to force me to meet her gaze. “I’m right here.”
“They had a weapon,” I snarl.
“Pfft.” She wrinkles her nose. “He had a fancy blue light. I had a gun.”
I struggle to regulate my breathing.
She lifts her eyebrows. “Need I remind you I’ve been trained for this?”
I close my eyes. Only when I feel her warm lips on mine do I open them again.
“I’m not helpless, Liev. You know that better than anyone.”
She’s right. Even though guilt and fury are choking me, I sit back down with my hands on her hips, holding her close. I’m not sure I want to let her go, much less ever let her out of my sight, again.
“Tell me what happened. All the details.”
Sera beams at me, and I know I said the right thing. She quickly outlines what happened after I left the night before, finishing with, “And in the chaos of the fire alarm, no one else noticed, so her team decided not to call the police. A reportwould mean bloggers would get it, etc. They notified Atelier Florian instead, and they weren’t impressed. So…”
“We’re heading home?”
