Her movements cease, but I can feel the tension in her body. Finally, she says, “I can’t tell you.” She doesn’t have to—because I already know. That’s why I’m here. Surveillance tipped me off when she went to Hunter Wrenn’s home. This time, she didn’t attempt to elude them. She drove straight there from the office, but the visit was brief.
“Why did you go see him?” I ask bluntly, and her hiss of surprise gives me a perverse sense of pleasure. It’s always better to catch people off guard. They tend to reveal more than they realize even if it is only through their body language. Hers is telling me that I’m right, and that she didn’t expect it. She begins to struggle anew, and this time, I let her go. I need to see her face. But when my eyes fall to the marks on her neck, murderous rage fills me again. “Did he do that to you?” I yell, then want to hit something when she backs away, shaking her head in denial. You’re fucking lying to me—but why? To protect that piece of shit? “Goddammit, Liza, enough! Don’t insult my intelligence. I rarely ask a question that I don’t already have the answer to. So I know you went to see Hunter Wrenn. And it’s past time you tell me what is going on. Are you romantically involved with him?” Bile fills my throat at the thought, and I must make a concentrated effort to swallow it down. I’ve never wanted to kill someone as badly as I do him now. She belongs to me.
“It’s not like that,” she says, and strangely enough, I believe her. But there’s something there, and I don’t intend to leave here until I find out what it is. “We’re not… he isn’t—God, it’s not even close to what you’re thinking.” Even in my anger, I feel a smile pulling my lips as she squares her shoulders and straightens to her full height. My little bird is full of fight, and I fucking love it. “And since when is Falco privy to the private lives of their employees? Come to think of it, how do you even know where I was tonight? Am I—are you having me followed?” she sputters out indignantly.
I go from wanting to smile to almost laughing outright. Forget the bird nickname, she’s more like a spitting cat now. I swear even her hair is bristling with anger. It won’t surprise me to hear her hiss or see claws pop out. “Of course, I am.” I shrug nonchalantly. “It’s for your protection as much as it is mine. You’re in a position that puts you closer to me than anyone else other than family. So naturally there could be some who seek to discover information you may have.”
Her eyes drop, and she shifts as if uncomfortable. “That’s absurd,” she argues weakly. “What could I possibly know that would benefit anyone?”
“Don’t be naïve, Liza,” I say impatiently. “Just our contract negotiations alone are worth billions. If our competitors got their hands on that information, it could deal a serious blow to Falco.” She appears to mull over my words before finally nodding.
“I guess that’s true.” She flinches.
“Get some fucking ice on that, Liza. Do you have a Ziploc bag to wrap it in?” She moves her hands shakily to her neck again, and I hate the pain I see in her eyes. Thankfully, she then moves to the freezer to get the ice.
“Do you have everyone at Falco under surveillance, Lee?” She sounds resolved but still a little hurt and angry. “I mean, surely there are many other people there who have access to a lot of the things that I do.”
Maybe the cat is a tiger after all. I put my hands in my pants pockets and rock back onto my heels. “You’re mine in a way that even I don’t fully understand. That makes you different from everyone else. It also means that I need to know who hurt you tonight. Because violence against you is violence against me, and I will not tolerate that.”
She shakes her head as she stares at me. “I can’t—but it’s not—sexual.” She appears to shudder when she spits out the last part.
Liza eyes me warily as I pull my hands from my pockets and begin to pace the kitchen. I want nothing more than to take her to bed and fuck the answer out of her. But she looks like absolute hell. What kind of monster will that make me if I give in to my desires tonight? I’ll never knowingly hurt her—but I could in her present condition. There’s no way I’m leaving her alone, though. I don’t know if she’s in danger, and if whoever did this will come back for her, but the point is moot. It’s easy to have someone watch her house, but that thought doesn’t satisfy me. Maybe it’s the mixed-up shit I feel at not being there to protect Lia, but I need Liza near me. How can I let another woman I care about be hurt? I’ll hire every fucking private eye in the state tomorrow if I must. Regardless of the cost, I will find out what she’s hiding. I’m simply amazed that I’m even in the position of letting someone close to me who has so many secrets. It both infuriates and excites me. A mixed-up combination, to be sure. Since when has anything in my life been normal, though? Even I can appreciate the absolute irony of the situation. The master has been outplayed by his assistant. And like the twisted SOB that I am, it only makes her more desirable to me. “Go pack whatever you’ll need for a few days. You’re coming with me.” She opens her mouth to no doubt argue with me, and I raise my hand before she can utter the first word. “Don’t waste your breath. Believe me, you’re getting off lightly. I’m tired, hungry, and irritable. You don’t want to push me any further. So either do as I’ve asked or I’ll assume you want to stay here and discuss your association with Hunter Wrenn further.”
She narrows her eyes but pushes away from the counter. “Give me five minutes.” She stalks out of the room, muttering under her breath. Again, I smile. Since returning to Falco, Liza has shown me a new side of her that I never knew existed. She’s always been so perfectly professional and proper, but that appears to have changed. The old Liza certainly would have never put her feet on my desk or had a wad of bubble gum in her mouth while in my office. And she didn’t talk back constantly. Then there was the whole tic-tac-toe episode at Lia’s board meeting. If she didn’t look the same, I’d swear it wasn’t her.
When she returns in what is more like thirty minutes, she’s struggling with a huge suitcase and a smaller one that is making some type of sound. “What the hell is going on with that?” I ask warily.
She drops the biggest bag at my feet, barely missing my shoes before bringing the one in question to within an inch of my face. “That’s Rufus.”
“Rufus?” I question as a scratching noise fills the kitchen. Then it hits me. “Hell no,” I say firmly. “If that’s a cat, then you might as well unload it. There’s no way he’s going with us.”
“Rufus goes where I go,” she insists stubbornly. “Plus, a lot of hotels are pet friendly now if you pay a deposit.” She raises a brow at me before adding, “And we know you can afford it.”
“That’s nice to know,’ I say sarcastically. “But you’ll be staying with me, and I can assure you, I’m not pet friendly.”
She sets the carrier down and puts her hands on her hips. Here we go again. “Are you allergic?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But that’s of little importance here.” The carrier is shaking now as the cat meows and claws at the plastic. It sounds like fucking Cujo is going to burst free at any moment. I fight the urge to take a step back. Don’t be a pussy.
She narrows her eyes at me. “So you’re an animal hater? You know they say you should never trust a man who doesn’t like pets. It’s un-American.”
What the fuck? “Honey, I’m not sure why the fact I don’t want a cat that sounds more like a hound from hell roaming through my home makes me unpatriotic.”
“It’s because Rufus is a cat instead of a dog, right?” She rolls her eyes. “I know some men have a problem with that, but if you’re secure in your masculinity, it should never be an issue. Would you rather I have a poodle with painted pink nails?”
My head is beginning to pound. I have rubbed my temples more in the past few days than I have in years. I have never met a more exasperating person in my life. “Liza, for God’s sake, this has nothing to do with the type of animal. I just don’t do—clutter.”
“Clutter?” she echoes in confusion. “He really do
esn’t require that much. I’ve packed some food and bowls. We’ll need to stop for a litter box—but that’s it.”
“A litter box?” Now I’m the one repeating her words as I stare at her stupidly. Somehow, I don’t think I want to know exactly what it means. I wonder idly which one of my employees will be willing to come over and pet-sit for a while. I have no idea why I didn’t already think of it. I’ll even throw in a bonus. Money is certainly no object when it comes to avoiding having whatever is in that box under my roof.
“Well, it’s this box full of a kind of sand. The cat sits in it and does his business. Then they cover it back up. The next day, you get the shovel and scoop it out.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “Wait—what? Let me see if I have this straight. The cat shits in my home, and I’m supposed to pick it up afterward? Are you fucking kidding me? Who in their right mind would do that?”
Liza takes a step closer until we’re literally yelling at each other over the damned cat. “Well, what else do you expect, Einstein? The last time I checked, Rufus doesn’t sit on the toilet. And what kind of self-respecting mobster is afraid of a little cat poop? You act as if I’m asking you to line the litter box with one of your suits.” I have no idea how it’s possible since I’m quite a bit taller, but she manages to look down her nose at me—or give the illusion of it. “You’re acting like a big baby.”
She did not just go there. How many times in one conversation can I have my manhood questioned? This must be a record. Well fuck, of course it is. I’ve never let anyone else get away with the shit she does. I can do this. How bad can it be? It’s just some extra cleanup. “Get the damn thing.” I point at the carrier. “I’ve got your suitcase.” When she stands there looking uncertain, I add, “You’d better hop to it before I change my mind. I’m sure Rufus will love to be set free. Have you ever thought of that?” She gives a sniff and picks up the carrier, somehow managing to wrap her arms around it in a protective gesture.
When we reach the front door, she snaps, “Dammit, the keys are still on the kitchen counter. Can you grab them? Rufus doesn’t like being shifted around, so I don’t want to put him down again.”
“Well, we certainly don’t want him to be unhappy, do we?” I mumble sarcastically before retracing our steps. She’s waiting on the front sidewalk when I lock the door behind me before sliding the keys into my pocket. I stare in surprise when my driver gets out of the Rolls Royce and walks around to open the back door. I forgot he was waiting. He looks at the cat carrier then over at me as if to say, are you fucking kidding me, boss? I nod, since no words are needed between us. He attempts to hold the carrier while she gets into the car, but she stubbornly refuses.
We both watch as she awkwardly manages to slide into the seat. Denny shuts the door behind her before asking, “Where to, Mr. Jacks?”
Before I can answer, Liza rolls the window down and sticks her head out. “We need to stop at Walmart.”
Denny shoots a look in my direction, and I swear the bastard grins before turning away. In all the time he’s worked for me, I’ve never requested that we stop at the discount store. It’s not that I think I’m too good for it. I simply cannot handle the crowds and mayhem that those places cultivate. There’s no possible way to keep an eye on that many people, and the need to watch my back has been ingrained in me since childhood. I glare at the space where Liza was, then stalk to the other side of the car. As always, Denny manages to have the door open a split second before I reach it. “Thanks,” I say automatically as I get in next to Liza.
We ride in silence for several moments before she says, “You can stop sulking anytime. This was all your idea. I’m perfectly willing to go back home, then you won’t have to deal with any of this.”
Her voice sounds husky and muted. My eyes fall to her neck, and I’m grateful that the dark interior hides the worst of the damage there. I can’t think straight where she’s concerned. And knowing that someone hurt her is more than I can handle. I’d like to at least make it home before I lose it again. “It’s fine, Liza,” I say more calmly than I feel. “Your well-being is what’s important here.”
She sighs and lays her head back on the seat before saying softly, “I want to tell you what’s going on—I really do. But I’m… afraid.” Fuck. Surely, she doesn’t think I’d hurt her.
Her bravado has deserted her, and she sounds so small and lost that I automatically want to comfort her. I’m also frustrated at her hesitation. I’m not used to begging for information. When I ask questions, they’re answered. But she’ll retreat if I make demands. The woman is beyond stubborn and has no sense of self-preservation. I’m trying to decide on the best approach when the car comes to a stop in a brightly lit area. “We’re at Walmart, sir,” Denny says. I can plainly hear the amusement in his voice, and I can’t blame him. He knows my skin is crawling, but he just has no idea why. He probably thinks I’m too snobbish to do my own shopping. If he only knew.
Suddenly, something is thrust in my lap and I look down in horror at the cat carrier. “I’ll go, but you need to hold Rufus. If he feels abandoned in a strange place he might—have an accident.”
A what? I look after her retreating figure helplessly. The carrier begins to shake as the cat’s howls fill the car. “Denny!” I shout to be heard above the noise. “Do something with—this thing!”
I can barely make out a series of sneezes before he chokes out, “Sir, I’m allergic to cats. My tongue’s not going to swell up or anything, but if I get any closer, it will get a lot worse.”
“All right, all right,” I say impatiently. “I’ll just put the damned thing on the floor.”
I’m in the process of moving it from my lap when Denny’s words halt me. “Sir, I wouldn’t do that. I don’t know about you, but being in this tight space with an animal who has an accident is the last thing I want to do tonight.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “She’s talking about it shitting, isn’t she? I was hoping she meant it would run into the side of the cage and knock itself unconscious.”
Denny lets out another sneeze followed by a laugh. “I think you had it right the first time, sir. I’ve never known you to have any animals. Are you actually going to let this stay with you?”
“Well, apparently paying you to take it home with you is out now,” I say wryly.
Denny opens his door and moves around to help Liza with the bags she’s carrying. She gives me a bright smile when she’s once again next to me. “Everything okay while I was gone?” she asks but makes no attempt to take her cat back. In fact, she crosses her arms and looks the picture of relaxation. “What a long day. I’m beat.”
For once, I wish the damn animal would start raising hell again, but with the return of his mistress, he appears to have gone into some type of trance as well. So I have no choice but to lay a hand on top of the carrier to keep it from falling as the car begins to move again. I hear soft snores coming from Liza and am amazed. After what happened to her this evening, how can she fall asleep so easily? When we reach my building, I use my other hand to shake her awake gently. “We’re here, honey. Wake up.”
She blinks like an owl in the light of the parking garage. Releasing a yawn, she struggles upright. “Sorry, I must have been out for a moment.” Denny opens her door before removing her suitcase from the trunk of the car. I wave her away as she reaches back for the cat. As much as I’d like to dump it off on her, it seems wrong to make her carry it. She picks up the items she bought at Walmart and gets out. We walk toward an elevator up ahead, and Denny sets the suitcase down while he removes his cardkey to the private lift. Most everyone who visits me comes through the lobby of the building so they can be announced. But I prefer to avoid unnecessary socializing when possible and simply go straight to the top-floor penthouse of the building I own.
When we reach my door, I set the carrier on the floor and use my key to open it. I motion Liza in, then pick up the cat and follow her. Denny deposits her luggage in the foyer before asking,
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No, thanks, Denny. I’ll let you know in the morning what I’ll need for the day.” After he leaves, I turn to Liza, “Have you eaten?”
The prints on her neck appear to glow brightly in the overhead light, and I avert my gaze, striving for calm. There’s no way I’m going to bed tonight without knowing how that happened. But first, I need to make her feel comfortable. “No, but I’m fine.” She shrugs a second before her stomach growls loudly. I can’t resist flashing her a grin. “All right, I’m a little hungry,” she says sheepishly.
I point toward the kitchen and flip on the light when we reach it. I put the carrier next to the wall, wishing I left it in another room. What if the thing wakes up and starts raising hell again? She might insist on taking it out—something I hope to avoid for as long as possible. “Have a seat.” I point toward the breakfast nook, but she takes a stool at the center island instead. I open the double doors of the industrial refrigerator and survey the contents. “There’s some leftover pasta or I can make us an omelet.”
“You cook?” she asks, sounding skeptical.
I smile as I begin pulling out vegetables. “Of course. I find it strangely relaxing. But before you get too impressed, I’ll point out that this is hardly fine cuisine.”
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