He winked. “Already done.”
At another time, I might have been annoyed by his high-handedness about something that affected me more than him, but I didn’t have the energy for that. I was just glad he was helping.
“Great.” I sipped the coffee. It was surprisingly good. “I’ll finish this and then shower. We can go afterward.”
Zeke waggled his eyebrows. “Want any company?” Before I could reply, his face fell. “Sorry, I’m not supposed to be doing that.”
“Doing what? Joining me for a shower?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Go shower. I’ll be here when you get out.”
ZEKE
Once I heardthe shower start, I counted out three minutes and made my way as quietly as possible to Fiona’s bedroom. As I opened the door, a wave of her scent drifted out, deliciously floral. Tempting and sultry, just like the woman herself.
The room was depressingly similar to the rest of the apartment. White walls, bland furniture, and no photos or art. The only splash of color was the blue and purple bedspread. I withdrew a bug scanner from my pocket and walked around the room. I waved it over the furniture and paused at the nightstand, taking care to run it past each drawer. I’d checked the rest of the apartment last night, after she went to bed, but I hadn’t wanted to risk waking her up by sneaking into the bedroom.
When I was satisfied there were no listening devices present, I slipped out again, closing the door behind me, and returned to my seat at the breakfast bar. I wasn’t sure who was more likely to have bugged the apartment—the police or whoever had set her up—but I’d thought it reasonable to assume that both parties would want to keep a close eye on her. Fortunately, she seemed to be in the clear, although I wanted to run a check on her cell phone too. It was issued by King’s Security, with our anti-hacking software installed, so there was probably nothing to worry about, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I drank more coffee, enjoying the pleasant zip of caffeine entering my body. The shower shut off and I cleaned away the breakfast dishes, trying to ignore the noises coming from the other room. I couldn’t afford to think of Fionaundressed and glistening wet. My body tightened and I cursed.
Get a hold of yourself.
Just because I’d wanted to see her, touch her, and taste her for years didn’t mean I couldn’t control myself around her.
“Hey,” she said as she emerged into the living area. I gulped. I was used to seeing her in office attire, which meant form-fitting dresses with respectably high necklines and long skirts. This morning, however, she’d opted to wear a pair of navy jeans that hugged her slender thighs and a floaty green blouse that made her look soft and touchable.
I forced myself to get it together. “Ready to go?”
She clutched a cream-colored leather purse in one hand and had a black jacket slung over her shoulder. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
The cab of my car felt smaller today than it had yesterday. Fiona’s floral scent was stronger—she must have used perfume or a scented lotion after getting out of the shower—and it wrapped around me and made my cock take notice.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as I followed GPS directions to Bergen Cole’s last known address. I couldn’t help wondering what might be different between us if she hadn’t been burned by her asshole ex. She might have agreed to go out with me when we’d first met. If that had happened, we could have been living together by now, in which case I’d have been able to give her an alibi for the theft of the Monet.
But then, there was always the chance that if she’d gone out with me, we’d have slept together and nothing more would have come of it. I might not have appreciated her strength and wit the way I do now. It was crappy to admit, but the fact she’d shut me down had gone a long way toward hooking my attention. I hated to think what I couldhave missed out on if I’d had her and taken her for granted.
“You’re quiet,” she said as we stopped at a traffic light.
“Just thinking.”
I readied myself for her to make a smart-ass remark about how unlike me that was, but it never came. I snuck a look at her. Was she all right?
When we arrived, it wasn’t difficult to see that Bergen Cole’s apartment building was nicer than Fiona’s. It still wasn’t much to look at though. I stayed close to her as we took the stairs to his floor and strode along the corridor, counting the door numbers. When we reached the number listed by the DMV, I paused.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked.
She bit her lip, visibly hesitant, but then nodded. “Just do it.”
I knocked before she had a chance to second-guess herself. A distant grunt came from somewhere within, and then I could hear sounds as someone moved closer. I felt Fiona stiffen beside me as the door handle turned and swung inward.
“Hello?” An older gentleman with red-rimmed eyes and a New Jersey accent blinked sleepily out at us. He was definitely not Bergen Cole. “What kind of time do you call this?”
I glanced at my watch. “Eight forty-five.”
“Exactly.” His beady eyes narrowed. “On a Saturday.” He huffed. “What are you selling, anyway?”
“We’re not selling anything.” Fiona stepped forward and smiled at him. “We’re looking for Bergen Cole. He lives here. I’m an old friend of his and I thought I’d surprise him while we’re in town.”
