by Eve Devon
She watched him as he took in the general messiness. The overflowing desk. The inspiration boards crammed with random images. She saw his gaze settle on a stack of papers tacked untidily to one of the boards. She really did mean to organize her files and start some sensible spreadsheets. Really, she did. Except, somehow, when she kept it all like this, it was as if she was assuring herself she wasn’t taking it too seriously.
His crystalline blue gaze made its way to the contents sitting out on her beat-up old desk.
“What the—” He broke off and reached out to pick up an ornate hair comb.
“Oh no, don’t look at those.” The words were panicked as they shot out of her.
“Why not?”
She ran damp hands down her skirt. “They’re not finished.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do,” she said, reaching out to snatch the butterfly clip from his hand and return it to the table next to her steel block and desk vise. “I just dabble, so, you know, it’s really not worth looking too closely.”
“Dabble? Honeysuckle, these are incredible.”
Oh.
A light sparked within her, and her hands crept up to fold against her midriff in case it was shining out of her.
Adam picked up another of the vintage butterflies she’d been working. Black onyx and marcasite winked up at him from the wing tips, but she saw only his gorgeous hands cradling her work.
Needing something to do, she started to straighten the tools she had left out on her desk. She picked up a mandrel for sizing rings and was about to set it down again, when Adam asked, “How long have you been making jewelry?”
All my life. “It’s a hobby.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t why you were leaving? So that you can do this full-time?”
Knowing she didn’t have what it took to do this full-time, she said, “Is there something wrong with my wanting to be a personal assistant?”
“How could that possibly be as fulfilling as doing this?”
There was a tiny clenching around her heart, and she forced herself to inhale past the sharp pain. “I like being a personal assistant. I thought I was getting good at it.”
Adam searched her face and then slowly looked around the room again. “Why do I get the feeling that if this room and your work had been completely trashed, you’d be utterly devastated?”
Honeysuckle stared down at her feet, and then her head shot up because why hadn’t this room been trashed?
Catching her expression, Adam said, “This room is exactly as you left it?”
“I…” Honeysuckle checked her desk. When she was convinced all her tools were where she’d left them a few days before, she ran her gaze over the ancient map cabinet that she used for storage on the opposite wall. The middle drawer was slightly open, but that was probably her. The two drawer filing cabinet beside the window was closed and the polishing wheel sitting on top of it looked untouched. Stepping over to the cabinet, she pulled out the third drawer more fully, and then she pulled out a few more.
She didn’t understand.
Why trash everything apart from this room? Her eyes went to the windowsill and the Victorian jewelry tree she kept on it. Finding it empty, she lurched forward.
“What is it?” Adam asked.
“My Steel Hawk key is missing.” Frantically, she ran her gaze over every work surface. Oh God. It was a family heirloom. Why had she left it out like that? She should have put it away. Instead, after taking it out to look at its size and calculate the length of chain that would look right with it, she’d tied a length of black satin ribbon around it and hung it on her jewelry tree.
And now it was gone.
Maybe it wasn’t. Please let it be that I put it back. Opening a pot on top of her desk, she withdrew the key to the filing cabinet and unlocked the top drawer. Her fingers flicked through several files until she found the one she needed. Opening it up, she withdrew another tiny key and then, squishing all of her files to the front of the drawer, she reached all the way to the back for the small jewelry box she kept there.
“Do you think the rest of the apartment was ransacked to cover for someone taking the key?” she asked Adam, all the while praying as she unlocked the small jewelry box. When she lifted the lid, her heart sank. Everything was there. Except for her Steel Hawk key.
The key she knew she hadn’t put back anyway.
“What does the key open?”
“Nothing. At least I don’t think it does. It’s purely decorative. There are two of them. Made by Rose Hawk, they’ve been passed down through the generations. My mother gave them to my sister, Sophie, and me when we each turned twenty-one.” With cold, clammy hands she relocked the jewelry box, replaced the key in the file, relocked the filing cabinet, and put the key back into her pot.
“And you’re sure it doesn’t open anything?”
“Truthfully, I have no idea.” She tried to combat the sick feeling she’d lost something she was supposed to safeguard. With renewed vigor, she said, “Help me look for it, would you?” Wrenching open the drawers of her desk and pushing items aside—knowing but not wanting to accept that it couldn’t have found its way into one of them because she definitely remembered hanging it up on the jewelry holder.
“What does it look like?” Adam picked up the ring mandrel and started poking through the surface of her desk with it.
“It’s a skeleton key, about four inches long, with the Steel Hawk emblem—the hawk sitting on top of the steel globe forming the top of the key. The barrel is engraved with the Steel Hawk motto.”
“You always leave your tools out like this?”
Her gaze flew to him. “Yes, Adam. Right now is definitely the time to discuss my untidy working habits.”
For a fraction of a second, she thought he was going to smile at her; then, as if he remembered where they were, the frown made a comeback. “You know you’re very different at work.”
“Work is work. This is”—she swallowed—“not.”
“Why would someone come in here, trash everything else, leave this room alone but take the key?” she heard Adam say as he moved behind her to check the floor under the windowsill.
“Maybe they ran out of time?”
“To make it look as bad as the rest and cover up the fact that they’d taken the key?” Adam said, peering at the gap between the filing cabinet and the wall. “Makes sense.” Leaning forward, he said, “Hang on, what’s this?” Reaching down to the base of the filing cabinet where it met the wall with the window, Adam said, “Pass me one of your metal rasps, will you?”
Honeysuckle grabbed one up off her desk and passed it to him, hovering behind to see what he’d found—hoping with all her might…as he inserted the file into the gap between wall and cabinet. A quick dragging motion and he was standing with her Steel Hawk key balancing from the tip of the file.
She grabbed the satin cord and pulled the key over her head to hang from her neck.
“It must have slipped off the windowsill,” Adam said, staring at where it nestled between her breasts.
With relief rushing in at her came a return of confidence. “No. Someone’s definitely been in this room. I swear I left it on the jewelry stand.”
Adam stared at her for a long time before finally nodding his acceptance. “Okay, but if whoever did this ran out of time to make this room look the same as all the others, then they dropped the key between the filing cabinet and the wall deliberately so they could return for it. You know what that means?”
She stared up at him nonplused.
“It means that as soon as the police have finished here, I want you to pack a bag. You can’t stay here.”
“But—”
“No buts. We’re leaving for Zarrenburg in a few days. You want to risk being paid another visit—this time while you’re here?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, he added, “I’ll drop you off at your folks on my way home.”
“No. I can’t stay with them. Can’t let them know what’s happened here. It would worry them witless, and I’ve already caused enough upset in their lives. I get what you’re saying, but I’m not putting them through any more.”
“Fine. You have a favorite hotel?”
She stared at him mutinously.
“We’ll go with the most practical solution, then. You’ll stay with me.”
Chapter Seven
Adam entered the fourteen-digit password on the keypad and looked into the monitor inset into the wall beside the heavy steel-and-glass doors. As the double doors to his house opened inward, he gestured for Honeysuckle to precede him.
His gaze fell naturally on the gentle sway of her hips as she walked slowly over the threshold of his home, and he tried to pretend the tentacles of intimacy reaching out to ensnare him were not because of her, but simply because he never brought women back here. It was less complicated to be the one leaving their bed, rather than them leaving his.
But no way could he let Honeysuckle stay at her place after what happened.
He didn’t understand what the hell was going on with Steel Hawk, but the fact that Honeysuckle’s place had been trashed made him think she might be connected, and that sat really uneasily with him.
He remembered she’d asked him if he thought someone could be deliberately trying to hurt her or her family with the book.
He remembered also that when he’d asked her if she thought there was someone in her life who would want to deliberately hurt her, she’d hesitated before answering no. If this was anything to do with that club, he intended to find out.
When the police had arrived at her place earlier, Adam watched her pull herself together and snap into the professional he saw at work. But he’d borne first witness to the shock and fear she tried to hold in when she saw what had been done. Had held her in his arms while she’d trembled. That had been real.
Hadn’t it?
“I didn’t realize you lived in Presidio Heights,” Honeysuckle said softly, coming to a stop in the large Edwardian, wood-paneled central foyer.
“Is there something wrong with where I live?” he queried, dropping her two large hold-all bags to the floor.
She shrugged. “No. It’s only that my parents live nearby.”
“Is that going to make things awkward for you? I take it telling them about the book didn’t go down great, then?”
Her fingers went to the buckle on the strap of her purse and stroked over the cold gold as if to anchor herself to something more pleasant. “What you’re really asking is how telling them about the dancing went down.” Her expression turned rueful. “It turns out you don’t have to explain burlesque dancing to hardly anyone these days. Who knew my parents, of all people, would be so frighteningly up-to-date on exactly what it entails.”
Having seen evidence of the many sides of Honeysuckle, Adam wasn’t altogether surprised they made it their job to keep up. He suspected the world was waiting for the real Honeysuckle Hawk to stand up, and her parents were at the head of the queue.
Honeysuckle shook her head slightly as if to banish their reactions to the darkest recess of her mind and said politely, “You have a lovely home.”
“Put your purse down, and I’ll show you around and then get us something to eat.”
“Actually, I’m really tired. If you could show me where I’m sleeping?”
“Have something to eat, at least.”
“Really, I’m not hungry. It’s been quite the day. I just want to sleep.”
“Okay.” Bending, he picked up her bags again. “Follow me.”
“Adam, I can carry my own bags.”
She had this way of saying his name…like an entreaty. He was finding it harder and harder to ignore. Walking ahead of her up the curving staircase, at least he saved himself from having those hypnotizing hips of hers at his eye level. “I get up pretty early in the morning,” he told her, needing to get out of his own head. “The kitchen is to the left when you come down. There’ll be food in the refrigerator. Coffee in the machine.”
“Define early?”
“Five a.m.”
“That’s not early, that’s inhuman.”
“That’s getting a run in before I start the day.”
“You do that every day?”
Damned if he didn’t feel her eyes on him and like it. “It makes a change from putting in the gym time.”
“You have a gym in here?”
“Basement floor. Access is off the kitchen. Help yourself while you’re here.”
“Thanks. I might.”
Perfect, he thought. Because adding a visual of Honeysuckle in tight Lycra to his growing list of images of her was really going to take the edge off.
On the second floor, he turned right and took them down the main corridor, stopping in front of the first door. Shoving the long handle of one of the bags over his shoulder, he reached down with his free hand and opened the door for her. “You can sleep in here for tonight.”
“Only for tonight?” she teased.
Adam stopped midstride. He wanted to tell her to be careful with that flirty husk of hers, because what if he responded like he had back at her place?
When he stood staring down at her with what he hoped was a warning in his eyes, she cleared her throat slightly. “Where do you sleep?”
“I’m next door.”
She inclined her head as if she had X-ray vision and could see through the door. Finally, as if satisfied he wasn’t very far away, Honeysuckle swept through the door he’d opened and looked around.
He lowered her bags onto the couch at the foot of the king-sized bed.
He should leave.
“You have a bathroom attached,” he said, not leaving. “There’s a safe in the panel beside the bed. It’s large enough to hold all your jewelry and equipment inside, or, if you prefer, I can put it in one of the office safes tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep it here, if that’s okay?”
He nodded, and they lapsed into silence, staring at each other.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at some point?” Honeysuckle said, still not moving.
“Right.” Finally, his body seemed to heed the instructions his inner voice had been shouting at it, and he felt himself turn and head for the door.
When she softly called his name, he halted, his hand squeezing hard against the cool metal of the door handle as he tried to prevent the small groan from escaping.
He didn’t turn to face her. Didn’t want her to see something in his eyes he had no business showing her. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. Her being here in his home was a really bad idea. Already he was way, way too aware of her.
“I realize you probably don’t have many guests.”
His shoulders tensed. She made him sound like some sort of closed-off recluse, when really he preferred to think of himself as cautious.
“What I’m trying to say is, I understand you’re a very private man. My staying here…please don’t think I’m reading anything into this. Other than you helping me out, that is.”
Right.
Absolutely nothing to read into.
And if his jaw clenched any tighter, he was definitely going to crack a tooth.
“Good night, Honeysuckle,” he said quietly before closing the door gently behind him.
* * * * *
Three hours later, when the security system beside his bed emitted a small beep, Adam reared upright, fully awake. Squinting, he reached for his glasses, shoved them on, and peered at the screen. Someone had just broken the infrared beam at the top of the stairs.
Honeysuckle.
If it had been an intruder, the beam at t
he bottom of the stairs would have broken first. Unless whoever it was abseiled in from the roof—which would have tripped the other sensors and was about as likely as Adam now getting any sleep at all.
Right on cue, a second sensor went off at the bottom of the stairs.
And then the next signaled she’d entered the kitchen.
Adam flopped back down onto his bed.
He’d leave her to her 3:00 a.m. feast.
Staring up at the bedroom ceiling, Adam started thinking about the final batch of testing he had organized at the lab for the next morning. He needed to make a decision on how happy he was with the strength of the glass. Then he’d be able to concentrate on getting the recorded feedback collected via the glass to upload to the new component he’d added.
Having the camera-feed display not only via his tablet but also to his prescription glasses would give him that extra level of security.
Wearing the glasses meant he’d be able to see whatever surrounded the security case in a tiny screen in the corner of the right frame. It had taken some getting used to, but he could refine the product if it proved workable in Zarrenburg.
And if it proved workable, he’d give the new design documentation to Edward for patenting.
Maybe he should put the case into Honeysuckle’s apartment, he suddenly thought. A live, ongoing testing environment would be the perfect opportunity to iron out any last-minute bugs, and it might show them who had ransacked her place if they came back for the key. Except, he couldn’t afford to lose the case if whoever was responsible for wanting the key saw it and picked it up.
Another sensor discreetly bleeped on the security system. Adam turned his head and realized Honeysuckle had entered the solarium. Huh. He’d expected her to stay in the kitchen and then return to her room. He really hoped she’d switched a light on or she’d be falling into the koi pond and getting the shock of her life.
What was she doing, anyway? Having herself a little unguided tour?
A familiar tension gathered as he stared at the screen. She was getting a little too close to his private study. Nobody went in that room. Not his family, not his cleaner. No one. It was the only other place, bar the safe in his lab at Steel Hawk, where he felt secure enough to leave his designs.
