“Okay, um, there was heavy breathing at first, then weird giggling. Then the voice asked me if I could come out and play.” Unease settled over her as the memory of the odd voice came back to her.
Mason scrubbed a hand along his hard as granite jaw. He looked quietly furious. “Was the request general or was your name mentioned?”
“The voice said my name.” She bit her lower lip when she saw the fury ignite in his eyes.
“Why do you keep saying ‘the voice’?”
“Because it was weird. Whoever it was, they didn’t sound normal. It was all distorted. Almost as if they were talking into some sort of machine.”
“Damn it.” He slammed his hand on the edge of the counter. “Have you given your number out to anyone?”
“No.” She shook her head furiously. “Not at all.”
He scrutinized her, his gaze razor sharp. “What about that woman you hang out with?”
“Suzanne? But why would she call me and say those things?” She hated that he even brought her up. Why he didn’t like her, she wasn’t sure.
“We can’t trust her. We don’t even know her.”
“I know her. And I know she wouldn’t do anything like that to me. She’s my friend, Mason.”
He snorted. “We know how great your friends turn out to be.”
Disappointment swept through her, cold and swift. “That’s unfair.”
“It’s the truth,” he bit out. “I need to report this. You’ll need a new phone.”
“It was nothing. Maybe just a kid making a sick prank.” She was lying. It had freaked her out but she hadn’t expected this sort of reaction from Mason. And she certainly hadn’t expected a fight.
“Don’t brush it off like you always do. It was most definitely something.” He started toward the back door but she stopped him, grabbing him by the arm.
“Can’t you report it tomorrow?” she pleaded. “You just ordered dinner and I’m starving. Can’t it wait?”
“Go ahead and start eating. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Mason. Please.”
He carefully extracted himself from her grip. “I have to make this call.”
She frowned. “You take your job way too seriously.”
“You’re my job,” he pointed out. “I have to take your safety seriously. And right now, it’s been compromised.”
Again the reminder she was nothing but a job. How she hated when he did that. “Fine. Make your call then,” she said, her voice soft.
Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m not sure how long it will take so go ahead and start dinner without me.”
She watched him go out the sliding glass door, his strides determined as he walked across the lawn, his cell already held up to his ear. The little protective bubble she’d carefully cultivated around them had burst. Reality had reared its ugly head and made itself known.
Their idyllic time on Whitney Island was over.
Chapter Eleven
She’d waited for him, had even told him to sit and relax when he finally came back into the house forty-five minutes later while she warmed up the containers of Chinese food in the microwave.
Mason almost felt domesticated, though it was ruined by the fact that they’d just argued after she was threatened by some sort of twisted psycho.
His stomach rumbled loudly when she started opening containers and her gaze met his, a little smile curling her lips. “I’m starving,” he offered in explanation.
“Same.” She prepared him a plate and set it in front of him, then handed over a fork. He dove into his food with gusto, not wanting to talk, not wanting to fight. Just wanted to fill his belly, clear his head, make himself feel normal again, even if only for a few minutes.
He’d spoken to Byron himself, explaining as best he could the phone call Blake had received. His boss hadn’t been pleased but hell, neither was Mason. Who the hell had gotten her number and called her? He had his suspicions but they only seemed to piss her off.
Yet it was the logical conclusion. He didn’t trust her new so-called friend, he never had.
Blake sat next to him at the counter and grabbed the bottle of wine that was close by, pouring herself a glass, before she filled his. He sipped the cool, crisp wine, already feeling better now that he’d had a few bites.
He’d gone too long without eating and it left him cranky as hell. Not to mention everything else that had just happened.
Blake’s earlier emotional outburst had surprised him. As had her beautiful artwork. Did he really know this woman? Sometimes he thought yes. But right now?
He was thinking hell no. He had no clue what made her tick. She was a constant surprise and it both excited and worried him.
No, what worried him more was the phone call.
Glancing at her plate, he watched as she dragged her fork through a pile of fried rice back and forth. “You don’t like it?”
“I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.” She reached for the glass of wine and drained it in seconds.
“Easy,” he murmured, garnering her attention.
Slowly she set the fork down by her plate and placed her hands in her lap, kept her gaze downcast. “I’m sorry. For the argument over the phone call and for—” Her voice was low and she cleared her throat. “—for my behavior earlier. I kind of fell apart and I apologize.”
He sighed. This was the last thing he wanted, a contrite Blake. “It’s all right. You don’t need to apologize.”
“Yes, I do.” She shook her head. “I got a little emotional this afternoon. I don’t know why.”
Surprise filled him. He thought she was referring to their arguing they had not even an hour ago. “Are you talking about when we were in the studio?”
Blake nodded silently.
He couldn’t remember what was said. Hell, he was still too distracted by that damn call. “I must’ve upset you earlier.”
She offered him a weak smile. “No, I upset myself. I should thank you for what you said. How you complimented my work. You were very sweet and I appreciate that.”
“Your work is truly wonderful,” he said, meaning every word. Her expression became solemn, her eyes wide. The seriousness of their conversation just went up about twenty million notches. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“You didn’t. It’s just…I don’t know.” She fiddled with the edge of the napkin, kept her eyes trained on her plate. “It was hard for me to show you.”
“I know.” He did know. It seemed to take tremendous effort for her to admit what she was doing. But with that revelation, came trust and despite their argument, he knew their relationship had gone to another level. One he didn’t want to overanalyze for fear of what he might discover. “And I’m not just talking about when you showed me your painting.”
His words startled her. He saw it in her gaze when she jerked her head up. “What I shared, it’s a very personal thing.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Now you know all my secrets.”
“Don’t worry. They’re safe with me.” Again, he spoke the truth. He wanted her to know she could trust him more than anyone else in her life.
“I know.” The smile that curved her lips was real this time. “I trust you.”
Warmth suffused him. “You do.”
“Of course. You know this.”
He did. She’d become more and more open the longer they spent time together while he was the one who appeared to be closing his life up tight. “What we have, what we’ve been—experiencing. It isn’t casual to you, is it?”
Worry creased her brow. She was such an easy read. Of course, it helped he’d spent so much time with her. “No, it’s not,” she confessed.
“You want more.” He should run like hell. Could he give her more? He wasn’t sure.
“I can only ask for what you’re willing to give me.” Spoken like a true politician’s daughter.
His heart ached for her. She’d grown so accustomed in putting up that thick shell a
round her, it was hard for her to reveal such personal bits about herself. He could relate. He’d never been big on opening himself up to anyone either.
But he needed to be truthful, no matter how damning his words might be. She had to know where she stood.
“I don’t know what I can give you. I can at least admit I want to give you more,” he said softly, pausing to gauge her reaction before he forged on. “But it wouldn’t be right. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you, taking advantage of this entire situation. And I’m shirking my duties. I’m not proud of that.” He shook his head, feeling like a shit.
“I don’t think less of you because of our situation, Mason. There’s no denying the attraction between us.”
Yeah, no kidding. “I could lose my job for sleeping with you. If my superiors found out…”
“They’ll never find out,” she offered quickly. “At least from me, they won’t.”
“I shouldn’t have risked it regardless. It was stupid of me.” The smile that curled his lips wasn’t one of happiness. “We should finish eating.”
He was trying to distract her. Shutting down, shutting her out. Something he was pretty damn good at.
“Can’t it wait? I’d like to finish this conversation,” she murmured, reaching for his hand.
He dodged her touch, grabbing his glass of wine so he could drain it. The phone rang, startling her and they stared at each other, the shrill ringing piercing the silence.
“Let me get it,” he said quietly.
She shook her head. “No. Let’s ignore it.” Her voice was vehement, determined. “Talk to me, Mason.”
It didn’t stop ringing and Blake realized it was the house phone, not one of their cell phones. It had to be a local call.
Weird. That phone hardly ever rang.
“You get the phone then, Blake. If you won’t, I will.”
“Oh, my God. This conversation is so not over.” Infuriated, she stalked toward the kitchen and grabbed the phone, barking a terse “hello” as greeting.
“Blake? Is that you?”
She stopped short. The woman on the other end sounded like she was crying. “Suzanne. Is that you?”
“Oh thank God, Blake, you’re home! I’m so glad. Listen.” Suzanne sniffed. “Can you talk right now?”
Blake glanced toward Mason. He glared at her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he mouthed the words ‘Is it Suzanne?’ she shook her head, turned her back on him and left the kitchen.
“I’m kind of busy at the moment.” Guilt immediately filled her. She was the worst kind of friend. It didn’t help that Mason’s suggestions made her the tiniest bit suspicious of Suzanne’s motives. “How about tomorrow? We could meet for coffee.”
“Oh.” Suzanne’s voice sounded awfully small. “I was hoping you could come over tonight. I really need a...friend to talk to.”
Blake closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Could she leave, just for a little bit and see what was wrong with Suzanne? Mason would insist he accompany her, and then they’d be separated for the rest of the evening. He sitting outside and waiting for her in the car freezing his butt off, while she comforted her seemingly distraught friend.
Why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? She had important things to handle, Mason things. She didn’t want to let this opportunity slip out of her hands.
“You want to talk about it now? Over the phone? I have a few minutes.” She really didn’t want to do this, but her friend needed her and she didn’t want to turn her away either.
“No, I guess not. I can tell you’re busy, Blake. I’ll let you go.” A rustling sounded and Blake knew Suzanne was about to hang up the phone.
“Wait a minute, don’t hang up. Look, I’ll come over tomorrow to your place first thing, okay? I’ll bring lattes and you can tell me everything.” Blake thought about it for a moment, worry creeping down her spine. “Unless you’re in serious trouble now. Then I’ll come over, no hesitation.”
“No, really I’m all right. I just need a shoulder to cry on, I guess.” Suzanne sighed. “I can save it all up until morning. But I’m warning you, be prepared for a cry fest.”
Blake laughed. “Will do. I’ll give you call before I come over tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Suzanne paused and it seemed as if she wanted to say something else, something more. “Thanks, Blake. You’re a good friend.”
Not good enough. She couldn’t tear herself away from a certain man to help a friend in need. She felt like a selfish bitch. “See to you tomorrow.”
Blake hung up and went back into the kitchen. Mason watched her enter, his expression hard as stone.
“What did she want?” Good lord, he sounded like the old Mason. The cranky, I-don’t-like-or-trust-anyone-agent-Russell.
Blake shrugged and sat down, picking up her fork and moving food about her plate once more. “She sounded really upset. She wanted me to come over, said she needed to talk.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I couldn’t come over tonight.” She glanced up, saw that he was watching her very carefully. “I feel bad about it, though. Some kind of friend I am.”
“You made the right choice. We have no idea who made that call to you but I think it might’ve been your friend. And besides, a storm is coming. It’s supposed to break tonight, lots of rain and strong winds. The roads wouldn’t be safe.”
Great, now he sounded like her father. This was ridiculous. Why did he get riled up over Suzanne all the time? She was harmless—Blake really believed that. The weird phone call had to have come from someone else. It was the only logical explanation.
“Why don’t you like her, Mason?”
He shrugged, a shadow falling across his face. “I did some investigating.”
“What? You did?” She couldn’t believe it.
Okay, fine…she could.
“Yeah, but I found nothing.”
“No surprise.” Blake shrugged, relief filling her. She didn’t want to find out she’d been duped yet again. She’d feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.
“There’s no criminal history, no work history, no last known address,” he continued.
“So see, she’s not some crazed murderer ready to kill me. Satisfied?”
“You don’t get it. I couldn’t find out anything about her. Nothing. Your friend Suzanne doesn’t exist in any type of database in this country which means her name is false. How are they paying her at the café anyway? Didn’t she have to fill out forms and give a social security number?”
“I don’t know. She’s really not told me much about her background.” Curiosity filled her. From the moment she met Suzanne, she’d been intrigued. There was a mysterious air about her. She acted like she had something to hide. Or that she was scared. Of something. Or someone.
Maybe there was more to it than Blake realized. And didn’t that make her feel like a fool?
“Right. That confirms it. I don’t think it’s safe, hanging out with her. We don’t know who she is or what she wants from you.” Mason’s expression hardened. “I don’t trust her. I’ll conduct a more thorough investigation and find out what I can about her first thing tomorrow.”
Frustration filled her. “Oh come on, Mason. She’s harmless. Maybe she’s running from some jerky guy. She did tell me how she recently got out of a really bad relationship before she ended up here. Maybe he was abusive and she’s in hiding from him.”
“And maybe she’s some sort of criminal on the run from the authorities. Now that she’s friends with the vice president’s daughter, she’s thinking how she can use you to get out of doing time for her crimes,” Mason threw back at her.
His remark stung. She winced, hating the fact that she wondered if he was right. Was Suzanne using her? She wouldn’t be the first person to pretend to be her friend, that was for sure.
But Suzanne had started talking to her before she even realized who she was. Or maybe she’d known all along...
“That was cruel,”
Blake said quietly and she saw the flash of regret on Mason’s face. “She’s a nice woman. Lonely and sad and you’re acting like she’s some sort of thief or runaway murderer.”
He immediately appeared contrite. “I’m just looking out for your safety. You know sometimes you don’t...”
“Make the best choices, I know. Trust me, I get it. You’ve told me before.” Blake was irritated. She pushed away from the counter and stood, grabbing her plate.
Setting the plate in the sink with a satisfying clank, she silently fumed as she stared out the window. Even in the darkness, she could see the tree branches sway, could feel the wind blow hard against the walls of the cabin.
Mason had been right. A storm was coming and it looked like a big one. She felt like that brewing storm. Gathering up a simmering anger, preparing to unleash it all on him and damn the consequences.
She hated how he doubted her ability to—jeez, function in the world. He treated her like she wasn’t capable of making good choices. Yes, fine. She’d given him reason for his doubt in the past, but her friendship with Suzanne was genuine. And she didn’t want to ruin it because of Mason’s doubt.
“Hey.” He approached her from behind and she turned, saw him standing before her with his half-full plate clutched in his hands. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
She tilted her chin. “Well, you did. I’m not a child, Mason. I can make decisions that won’t put me in harm’s way.”
“I’m just doing—”
“Your job, I know,” she interrupted. She took the plate from him and dumped the remains in the garbage, then set the plate in the sink.
Big hands settled on her shoulders and she stopped, held herself still has he began to massage the tight muscles there. God, she was weak, caving in to his brief touch, wanting nothing more than to stop the talking and start the kissing and touching and everything else that came with it.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. I have to keep you safe.” He drew her close, his hard, warm body pressed against hers and she weakened, her limbs melting as she settled against him.
“I know,” she whispered, closing her eyes when she felt his hot mouth touch her neck. She tilted her head, gave him better access and he took it, his slow-moving lips and tongue whipping her into a fevered state in an instant.
Under His Protection Page 13
