But before I know it, with his hands traveling so gently over my ankle and moving up my leg a little, I’ve forgotten to hold my breath, andanother,softer moan slips from my mouth.
This time, the sound I’ve made seems to affect him, and he shifts a little, clearing his throat as his hands hesitate in their movement.
When he glances at me, and our eyes lock, the tension between us snaps like electricity, tripling in intensity.
My lips part as I take a soft breath, desperately trying to get control of myself, while inside, my thoughts are screaming.
His hand pauses, and his eyes darken. I bite my lower lip.
“Is it okay?” he asks, a husky whisper.
“Is what okay?” I murmur, caught in the stormy color of his eyes.
“Your...uh…your ankle,” he says.
“Oh, shit, yes, um, it’s totally fine. Thanks for the massage. I’m going to go get some ice. I think I’ll just put it up for a bit and put ice on it, that’s the best thing.” Words won’t stop coming out of my mouth as I tug my ankle out of his hands and stagger to my feet. It hurts a little, but I ignore it as I limp away, not daring to turn around and look at him, because I’m so embarrassed I want to disappear.
He doesn’t try to stop me, thank goodness. I think I would have just pretended not to hear him if he did. It’s a dangerous game to be playing, being so attracted to the man you’re trying to escape.
I don’t stop moving until I’m safely in my room with the door closed.
My ankle isn’t hurting as much now after the brief, though intense, massage and a little careful walking on it. I’ll survive. But my dignity has apparently gone out the window along with my self-control.
Chapter 11 - Anton
Things only go smoothly for a certain amount of time before reality comes to bite you in the ass all over again.
Sitting at my desk in my office in town, I have my head in one hand and my phone pressed against my ear.
“Last night? What time?” I ask gruffly.
“Around four in the morning, so just as the guys were about to do shift change. It was very strategic. They knew they would be tired at the end of the night shift, and the new guards hadn’t arrived yet. They attacked at the perfect time.”
“Fucking Illyin, or Josiah. They must have found out I have her,” I groan, thinking out loud. “They’re obviously targeting my operations now as a warmup, or revenge.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Yaroslav says. “It could have been anyone.”
“I doubt it. It was only a matter of time before they worked it out. But you can start looking into it for me and let me know what you find. Maybe they left a clue somewhere,” I sigh.
Yaroslav agrees. “We already have the team scavenging through the rubble of the things they destroyed. I’m about to sit down and go through the security footage. If even one of those guys wasn’t covering their face, we can do facial recognition and trace them back to whoever sent them.”
“Good, yeah. Well, let me know. Do you need me down there?”
“Will do,” he says. “No, there’s nothing for you to do. It’s just a mess to clean up. It’s better if you stay out of sight. If it was Josiah, then this might be a plot to lure you out into the open. Let’s not take any chances.”
“Good point. Keep me in the loop. I’ll arrange additional security at both warehouses.”
Setting the phone down on my desk, I groan louder and push my fingers into my temples, attempting to massage away the migraine starting to threaten behind my eyes.
I’ve got too much work to do to be getting a migraine now. And now, with the attack on my warehouse, I have another thing to worry about. It has to be Josiah. It’s already taken him longer than I expected to find me. I’ve been distracted though, not paying attention, not focused on the game of it all.
Distracted by her.
The moment I married her, it became all about her, and my concerns about Josiah became secondary. I should never have slacked off regarding him.
This was a brutal reminder.
If he’s in Detroit and messing with my business, then he knows where I am, and this is just him toying with me before he makes the real move.
