by Addison Fox
“Of course.”
“Then I’m still mad.”
“Why won’t you be reasonable about this?”
Isabella slipped from his arms and straightened her blouse as she put some distance between them. “I could say the same to you but we’d be right back to the circular argument that got us here. So I’ll try a different one. I understand you and your family are protecting me and I don’t want to put any of you in jeopardy. But I will need to leave. I need time with my research and my notes to finish preparing for my interview. I also need to visit my apartment. I can’t exactly live in a small suitcase of clothing for the next ten days.”
If their circular argument got her back in his arms, Liam was all for it, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. “We can buy you new clothes.”
“It’s bigger than that and you know it. I have a life and I can’t live in fear. And most of all, I owe it to Daniel to figure out what’s going on with his legacy.”
As she stood there, her body stiff with her convictions, Liam thought about all the facets of her he’d seen in the past forty-eight hours. From the wet umbrella on his grandparents’ front porch to the vibrant, amazing woman in his arms, to the determined scientist actively preparing to take responsibility for her work, he’d seen a surprising array of emotions.
He knew dangerous situations often brought out extremes in personalities, but Isabella had shown a fortitude that would fell most.
“I’ll work out a game plan with Jack. Between the two of us we can figure out the best way to move you back and forth between here, your lab and your apartment. And Kensington can keep digging on the bank account front. No one tugs a financial line quite like my sister.”
“That’s a start.”
“Am I still overbearing and obtuse?”
She narrowed her eyes but a small smile ghosted her lips. “The jury’s still out.”
“Can I see you to your room?”
“I should, um, probably go up myself. I know how to find it. The blue guest room on the third floor. Kensington showed me earlier.”
He knew what she meant—and figured she was probably right about going alone—but it didn’t escape his notice her fingers were clutched tightly in the hem of her blouse as she walked from the room.
It wasn’t much, but he took some solace she was as close to the edge as he was.
* * *
Isabella lay in bed, the clock flipping over to 3:00 a.m., and berated herself for declining Liam’s offer to see her up to her room. She wanted him. If they’d let things go on much longer in the office she might have had him.
And wouldn’t that have been a glorious outcome.
Not to mention horribly awkward.
This strange attraction was heady, certainly, but she was smart enough to know it was a side effect of the adrenaline rush and the danger surrounding both of them. Attraction might blaze between the two of them, but it couldn’t change the words he’d spoken before the spark between them flared to life.
She was alone.
And she hadn’t had a boyfriend let alone a man in her bed in too many years to count. There had been that researcher a few summers back. Late nights in the lab and a genuine compatibility had led them to bed, but it hadn’t lasted.
Nor had it rocked her world.
A few scattered relationships here and there that never seemed to ignite and catch fire went back even farther in her mental museum.
Regardless of those interludes, she was alone. And assuming she survived the next few weeks, she was going to stay that way.
Men like Liam Steele didn’t settle down or change their ways. He barely kept tabs with his family so the likelihood of him doing anything more permanent with her didn’t bear thinking about.
Or fantasizing about.
Even if they were damn good fantasies.
She eyed the clock once again. Three-oh-two.
On a heavy sigh her mind drifted once more to her fling with the summer researcher and she counted backward two, no three—well, damn it, four—years.
She hadn’t had sex in four years?
Counting once more, she knew she was right. Victor had been their guest in the lab the summer before Daniel died.
Daniel.
The stark reality of her dry spell was eclipsed by the financials Kensington and Jack had discovered. Who could possibly have access to Daniel’s finances?
And why were there any finances to access?
His estate should have taken care of things after his death, closing all outstanding accounts and distributing the proceeds according to his wishes. Daniel’s wealth was extensive, a legacy of family money he’d always seemed a bit embarrassed by, but there still should have been plans for it. Especially since he was so ill for so long, he had to have made provisions.
Although Liam had diverted her attention, now that she’d thought about Daniel her mind opened up a whole new avenue of inquiry. Could someone who knew him be behind what was happening to her? While the will hadn’t been contested, the large sum he’d bequeathed her for her research had drawn attention. Was there a jealous researcher behind the attacks?
Someone she might have overlooked?
Question after question flooded her thoughts, none with answers. Lost in thought, she nearly missed the ping of her cell phone, indicating she had a text message.
When the ring went off the second time, she rolled toward the end table and picked up her phone.
And dropped it when Daniel Stephenson’s name and picture filled the screen.
Chapter 10
The scream echoed from the hallway, dragging Liam from the erotic visions that had kept him company since climbing into bed an hour ago. Without stopping for the gun he’d stowed in the end table next to his bed, he shot down the hall toward Isabella’s room, his only focus getting to her.
Hall lights came on as he slammed through her door, evidence his siblings had heard the scream, but he didn’t stop until he had Isabella out of bed and in his arms. She clung to him, her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist he nearly toppled over her on the bed.
Bracing his feet, he reached for her arms, struggling to control her trembling body with hands that shook of their own accord. “What is it? What happened?”
“My phone. A text.” Eyes wide, she pointed to the slim phone that looked as if it had been tossed to the floor, wedged under the corner of the end table.
“What is it?” Campbell was through the door first, the guest room he and Abby were sleeping in being on the same floor.
Liam held on to Isabella and pointed toward the phone. “Something spooked her.”
Jack followed on Campbell’s heels with Kensington and Abby not far behind. “What the hell happened?”
“She got a text.” Campbell held up the phone and swiped a finger across the screen, a dark frown edging the corner of his lips. “From her late boss.”
“Read it.” Liam ordered.
Campbell’s gaze darted toward Isabella. “The message is simple and threatening. It says, ‘You’re next.’”
“Who’s doing this?” Isabella trembled once more and Liam settled her on the bed, then sat next to her, dragging the covers up around her shoulders. “Who would be this sick?”
The same sensation he’d had earlier—that someone was delighting in toying with her—struck him yet again. Just like everything else that had happened so far, this latest stunt had more psychological and emotional overtones than any real threat. Even the airport shooting seemed more theatrics than anything else. The gun shots had gone wide, with no evidence of any attempts to aim at a target.
“Liam. Can I speak to you?” Kensington caught his attention and Abby moved forward quickly to soothe Isabella.
“Now?”
“Please.”
Kensington stepped from the room and he followed her into the hallway.
“This can’t wait?”
“Doesn’t this seem strange to you?”
“Strange is the best you can come up with? The bastard’s taunting her.” Liam fought the urge to slam a fist into the wall. “He’s using her life and the few people she cared about against her.”
“Don’t you find the timing odd? It’s two hours after we find evidence someone’s been tampering with the man’s accounts. I don’t like it.”
“What are you suggesting?” The heartbeat that had finally begun to settle slammed once more in his chest. “That Isabella did this?”
“You can’t rule it out.”
“You don’t believe her? Bloody hell, Kenzi.” He fought to keep his voice level but it crept up several degrees in spite of himself, his grandfather’s favorite curse punctuating the moment. “You can’t really think she’s doing this on purpose.”
“You don’t think it’s suspicious?”
“No, I think it’s freaking personal. We’re protecting her and now you want to make her into a suspect.”
He knew his sister—knew her to be innately fair—and he also knew questioning a family friend wasn’t easy, but she pressed on. “You had your doubts at first.”
“Before we were all shot at in plain sight leaving the airport.”
“Liam. Look at it. First we discover her benefactor still has an active bank account. Then she gets some weird text message from him. Why is his number even in her phone if he’s been dead for over three years? You can’t tell me you’re so besotted you can’t acknowledge something’s not right here.”
He respected his sister—respected her mind and her ready ability to puzzle through complex details—but he wasn’t going to sit still for this. “Watch it, Kenz.”
“I’m not saying it to insult you.”
“Don’t say it at all.”
Fire sparked in those eyes so like his own but she backed off, her iron-clad control taking over. “All I’m asking you to do is think about it.”
“Fine. But even you can’t deny this is personal. Someone knows her and is playing with her, cat-and-mouse style.”
“Yes. It is personal. That’s my point.”
He chose to ignore his sister’s jab, instead pressing his point. “Who else could possibly benefit?”
“Isabella, Liam. She’s the one who stands to benefit. Daniel Stephenson’s her benefactor but his investment is the tip of the iceberg versus what she stands to make back on her work.”
“She’s not behind this.”
“Then let’s clear her and find out who the hell is.”
* * *
Soothing tones and muted voices filled the room as Abby and Jack kept up a steady stream of conversation while Campbell fiddled with her phone. Every few minutes Abby would suggest her husband tap in a few new codes into the phone but nothing quite gave Campbell the satisfaction he was looking for.
“I can’t find the source.”
“We can run it in the lab tomorrow.” Abby’s voice never rose above soothing and controlled but it wasn’t hard to read the underlying message she relayed to her husband.
Leave it for now.
Isabella appreciated the concern, but all she could focus on was the conversation she couldn’t quite hear from the hallway. And the embarrassment at how she’d reacted. “I’m so sorry I screamed.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Abby’s smile was gentle. “I don’t think any of us were sleeping anyway. Too much excitement today.”
“I know my work has enemies, but I don’t understand this. Daniel was the biggest champion of my work. Always. None of this makes any sense.”
“We’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, the house is on about eight different types of lockdown, so you’re safe here.”
Isabella wanted to believe her—knew Abby believed it herself—but she couldn’t quite agree. And now she had to worry about the fact she’d exposed seven other people to risk.
“Has anyone called Rowan?”
“I’ll go do that now.” Jack tapped a hand on her foot before backing away. The move was sweet and awkward and Isabella belatedly glanced down to see the top of one thigh peeking out of the covers.
“Oh no. No wonder Jack raced out like his feet were on fire. I’m half-dressed.”
“I think he’ll survive.”
“Hopefully with minimal scarring.”
Abby stood up to help her with the covers and Isabella couldn’t quite shake off how nice it felt to have others there.
“I’ve been there, you know. This amorphous place, between safety and the abyss. It will get better and the Steele family has the resources to help. They’ll find whoever’s doing this.”
No matter how hard the last few weeks had been, staring into Abby’s warm brown eyes Isabella knew a kindred spirit. Here was a woman who’d battled her own demons and not only come out the other side, but now thrived.
“Will it ever go away? Even after the threat is gone, will the fear go away?”
“Slowly, it does. And Campbell and I have both worked hard to seek help when we need it. I wouldn’t have him if it hadn’t been for the experience and I remind myself of that every day.”
Isabella nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
She was happy for Abby and Campbell, but she knew her ending wouldn’t be quite so neat. She had faith the House of Steele could help her, but that didn’t mean her happy-ever-after waited on the other side of this mess.
As if punctuating the thought, Liam strode back into the room. Abby shot her a wink, then made a quick excuse and left, shutting the door in her wake.
He had on a pair of workout shorts and nothing else and it took her several long, dry-mouthed seconds to realize the fear in her stomach had morphed into something else entirely.
His body was exquisite. Athletic and strong, he had lean muscles that tapered down to a slim waist. A light dusting of hair covered his chest and she abstractly wondered if the hair would be soft or coarse to the touch.
“I’m so sorry I riled everyone up. I shouldn’t have screamed.”
“It must have been a shock.” Something strangely formal hovered beneath his words and she searched his face, trying to match something in his expression with what she sensed in his tone.
The hard lines of his body tempted and enticed her to take action, but she held back. Whether it was lingering melancholy from her talk with Abby or the adrenaline rush of the text message, she supposed it didn’t matter.
Both had left a gaping well of sadness she knew needed a bit of time to close.
“While I’m sorry for the shock, the bastard couldn’t have picked a better method for his deeds. Between Campbell’s computer skills and Abby’s telecommunications expertise, we’ll get to the bottom of the phone message.”
The lure of attraction faded even further in the sudden anger that rose up and squeezed her chest with tight fists. “The idea someone’s been using Daniel, even if he can’t be hurt by it any longer, is upsetting. And seeing his name after all this time...”
The words faded as Liam sat down at the edge of the bed, replacing the spot Abby had just vacated. “It’s a personal attack. Designed to strike at your emotions.”
She nodded, the crazy adrenaline rush of the last ten minutes filling her eyes with helpless tears. “He was a good man. And he took me in and gave me a home in his lab. He believed in me. In my work. And now someone’s using him to lash out at me.”
Liam wrapped an arm around her and it was the last piece that shattered her composure entirely. A hard sob exploded from her throat along with the words. “It’s like I’ve lost him all over again.”
Large arms enveloped her and she sunk into his warmth. Whe
re she’d felt protection before, now she felt compassion. And sympathy. And the very real evidence she didn’t have to process this alone.
Without warning, an image of her mother rose up in her mind’s eye, along with those endless days of her father’s trial. They’d sat through every bit of testimony. The reading of the charges, the increasing evidence he’d committed horrific acts of treason against Queen and country and, finally, the clear evidence he felt no remorse for his actions.
Yet they went, his only family, resigned to supporting him through it all. Day after day, seated in the courtroom, watching their world collapse.
She’d used her mother as an example of how to behave in public. Stone-faced. Stoic. And absolutely unwilling to let anyone see the pain inside.
But she’d never have expected her mother would exhibit the same when the two of them were alone. Her only ally in the battle for their family had deserted her, leaving her to fend for herself in an emotional wasteland of betrayal and heartache.
“Why is Daniel’s number still in your phone?”
That same sense as before—that something hovered under his words—struck with swift and terrible claws as the memory faded in the face of Liam’s skepticism. She unwrapped her arms from his waist and shifted on the bed, seeking some distance. “I never deleted it.”
“Your phone doesn’t look that old. Even with a standard upgrade you would have gotten a new phone since he passed away. Why keep his number?”
“My cell phone provider ported the data from my old phone to my new one.”
“Yes, but why keep his number?”
“I forgot to delete it.”
Although the truth, the words felt hollow on her lips. It was only when he remained silent, his gaze boring into hers, that she matched the question with Kensington’s rush to the hallway. “You think I did this.”
“No.”
“Or your sister does and she’s convinced you of that fact.”
“That’s not true.” Liam hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if he warred with himself, before he finally spoke. “She pointed out the fact that you still have Daniel’s number. I have to agree with her. It is strange.”
