Shaking her head, she allowed herself to simply enjoy a pleasant evening with the Webbs. They were so warm and friendly that she quite forgot that they were extraordinarily wealthy. She had expected perhaps servants or the food served on exquisite china. Instead, they ate on large, sturdy plates. The wine glasses, though well crafted, were certainly not fancy crystal. Apparently, Hunter got his simple, everyday tastes from his parents.
After dinner, she was pleasantly surprised to discover Mr. Webb helping his wife with the dishes. Amber was allowed to dry the silverware and plates. Whether they did this every evening or not, it was clear that both of Hunter's parents were quite comfortable in the kitchen. Amber had to admit that it shattered her image of what an insanely wealthy family was like. Apparently, money was simply one small part of the equation.
Finally, Amber looked up and noticed how late it was. The time had passed so quickly. She was wondering how she was going to get back to the hotel when she heard someone walking through the living room. To her delight, Hunter rounded the corner and greeted her with a smile and a kiss.
“Hey, gorgeous! How was your afternoon?”
Amber leaned into him, inhaling his scent. She hadn't realized how much she had been missing him.
“Great!” she said. “I'll fill you in later, but your parents are the most charming hosts ever.”
Hunter gave both his parents big hugs and then sniffed the air.
“Mm . . . Mom's famous stew. Is there any left?”
“There's a large bowl with your name on it in the refrigerator,” Mrs. Webb replied. “I'll warm it up for you.”
“I can get it, Mom. Just let me borrow Amber while it's heating up.”
Mr. and Mrs. Webb moved into the living room to give them privacy.
“I trust you had enough to eat,” Hunter said, nuzzling Amber's neck with his lips after placing his bowl in the microwave and setting the timer.
“Two bowls of stew, a salad and enough bread to embarrass myself,” Amber said with a grin.
She wrapped her arms around him. “Sorry you couldn't join us. Your parents are fun to be around.”
Hunter squeezed her in his arms. “I assure you I would have rather been here. The artist I was escorting around the city today was a total jerk.”
Amber leaned back and stared at Hunter with surprise.
“He was rude to you?”
Hunter laughed. “Of course not. I would have dropped his ass off at the nearest metro station. I was supposed to take him to dinner tonight. But after he insulted one of our nicest volunteers, I arranged for dinner to be delivered to his hotel.”
“Won't you get in trouble?” Amber asked, dismayed.
Hunter shrugged. “Isabelle understood completely. She doesn't tolerate that behavior toward any of her staff.”
He lifted her chin. “But even without her approval, I wasn't going to cater to the whims of that asshole.”
Amber smiled. “Any different response would have ruined your reputation.”
The microwave dinged and Hunter broke away to get his dish. He grabbed a chunk of leftover bread and dipped it into the juicy stew.
“Ah! This stuff is so good,” he said, once he had swallowed his first huge spoonful. “Mom's been making this forever. I think she got the recipe from my grandmother.”
Amber was tempted to bring up the puppy, but now was clearly not the time. Instead, she decided on a safer line of questioning that might give her some insights.
“So how far away did your grandparents live from here,” she asked innocently, waiting for him to finish chewing to respond.
“About an hour outside of the city,” he replied. “I actually stayed there a lot during the summers.”
“That must have been fun,” Amber said, her voice neutral. “There would be more space for playing in the country side."
Hunter nodded. “Yeah, that was the idea. Give me some fresh air and that sort of thing.”
“Did the family sell the property after your grandparents died?”
Hunter gave her a funny look. He looked wary all of a sudden.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Sorry. I didn't mean to pry,” Amber said quickly. “I was just curious. It doesn't matter one way or the other.”
Hunter released the tension in his shoulders.
“I forgot for a second who I was talking to,” he muttered.
“Hunter Webb! Have you been chatting it up with some tart?”
Hunter laughed. “Baby, you know you're the only one for me.”
He pushed away his now empty bowl. “Come over here so I can show you.”
Amber put her hands on her hips. She dropped her voice to an indignant whisper.
“There is no way I would ever make out with you in your parent's kitchen. Especially with them in the next room!”
Hunter chuckled, but his eyes were dark.
“If I wanted to, I would prove you wrong yet again,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
Amber felt herself melting under the heat of his gaze. His eyes made her tremble.
Hunter smiled slyly. “Lucky for you, I would never do that to my mother. I simply wanted to give you another hug.”
Yeah, right. Like she was going to believe that. Amber stood and carried his dishes to the sink.
“Hunter, do you want to help me wash these up?” she called out loudly over her shoulders.
Hunter started laughing as his mom came in, immediately pushing Amber's hands away from the sink.
“No, darling, leave those. You two should get going so you're not exhausted tomorrow.”
Before she knew what was happening, Amber found herself with her coat on and walking out the door after quick hugs from Hunter's parents.
“See you in the morning,” Mrs. Webb called as she waved to them from the door.
Hunter ushered her into the car. Oh! Apparently, they were using the car service to get back. Amber noted the new driver. She supposed the drivers operated on a rotating shift if the car was used this much. Unless this was a different car? She had to shove aside the nagging thought that this must cost a fortune.
For the trip back to the hotel, Hunter seemed content to hold her in his arms as she told him about her afternoon at work. She had to give him credit. He sincerely seemed interested in her day.
The only thing on her mind that she couldn't talk about, though, was her suspicion that something terrible had happened to his dog when he was a child. She couldn't simply blurt it out. And why was he sensitive about her question about his grandparent's home?
“Are you okay?” Hunter asked when she grew quiet.
“Just a bit tired,” she said, yawning.
“We'll go straight to bed when we get home,” Hunter said.
Amber wanted to argue that she would decide if she was ready for bed. But she didn't want such a nice day to end on a sour note. She yawned again. Wow, she was more tired than she imagined.
Hunter shifted behind her and shrugged off his coat. He folded it over and placed it on his lap.
“Lie down and close your eyes, baby,” he said softly.
Amber was again too tired to object. Almost as soon as she put her head down, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. She vaguely remembered Hunter carrying her through the hotel lobby and then undressing her and tucking her into bed. Sometimes, she thought groggily as she turned over and snuggled in the covers, having a control freak for a boyfriend wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Chapter 10
Amber was in the break room at the office, refilling her water bottle, when she heard a familiar unpleasant voice down the hall. Peeking out, she was startled to see Kayla's mother in the middle of a low argument with her husband. She darted back into the break room and tried to hear the conversation, but she only got small snatches.
Amber knew that the Webbs were out of the office for the next hour or so. Mr. Webb had a meeting with a client and Mrs. Webb had left for a dental appointment. As everyone's sched
ule got posted on a whiteboard in one of the conference rooms, it would have been easy for Mr. Ross to let his wife know when the Webbs weren't around.
Hmm . . . She was assuming that Mrs. Ross wouldn't visit the office with the Webbs around. She was really getting paranoid now. Then she thought of her name. Mrs. Webb had purposely left it off, afraid that some of the other staff might be tempted to give Amber additional errands in her absence.
“Please know that you are only here to work for me,” she told Amber firmly that morning. “I know of a few people who will try to take advantage of having a young person around. But feel free to tell them that is not your responsibility.”
Amber smashed her ear against the door.
“Files . . . not working . . . time . . . Amber . . . disaster.”
What the hell? Were they talking about her? Amber strained to hear. The voices started to fade and she peered out the hall cautiously. Mr. and Mrs. Ross walked into an empty conference room. Amber crept down the hallway, looking for a place to conceal herself. She had to know why they were talking about her.
Along the hall was a storage closet that the cleaners used. Mrs. Webb had pointed it out, explaining that there was an access panel to the women's restroom for plumbers to use in an emergency. Amber slipped inside. The closet door had vertical slats, giving her a clear view of the hallway and the giant copy machine directly opposite of where she stood. Unfortunately, she couldn't hear any conversation from the conference room.
Then she heard the click of heels hitting the tiled corridor. A door whooshed open and someone entered the bathroom. One of the stall doors banged shut. Amber contemplated slipping out and returning to her work area. But then she heard more footsteps in the corridor. Peeking out, she watched Mr. Ross shuffle by, one hand clamped to his forehead as he muttered to himself.
The toilet flushed suddenly, startling Amber. She heard water running in the sink and a paper towel being ripped from the dispenser. The whoosh of the opening door was followed by the sharp click of heels. This time, Amber watched Mrs. Ross walk to the copier, one hand on her hip as she tapped her foot impatiently.
A minute later, Mr. Ross reappeared, carrying a thin folder. He handed it to his wife and started to walk away.
But Kayla's mom restrained her husband.
“Don't be an idiot,” she muttered softly. “I'll look suspicious all by myself. Stay here until I'm finished."
“I could have done it after you left,” Mr. Ross said, sounding tired and whiny.
“I don't trust you. Last time you left out some of the statements.”
“I could get fired for this!” Mr. Ross glanced around uneasily.
“Oh, shut up. If they find out what you've already done, you'll be lucky if that's all they do to you.” Mrs. Ross jabbed her finger at her husband's chest.
Mr. Ross groaned. “I want to stop this. The Webbs are asking if something is wrong at home.”
Mrs. Ross grabbed his wrist. “Tell them you're having health issues. You certainly look ill enough. But I need at least a few more of these for our client.”
Amber felt her face flush with anger. What the hell was that bitch up to? She patted the pockets of her linen slacks. If only she had her cell phone with her. There was no way that anyone was going to believe this without proof.
Kayla's mom was scrutinizing the documents as she began to put them into the document feeder.
“Wait a second!” she hissed. “This isn't the full report. Half of what I need is missing.”
Kayla's dad shrugged helplessly. “They haven't finished yet. When Hunter left, they postponed the board meeting.”
Kayla's mom slammed the folder down on the copier. “Why didn't I know this sooner?”
More footsteps sounded in the hallway as another employee passed by on her way to the restroom. Kayla's mom plastered a fake smile on her face.
“Bonjour, Renee. Comment allez-vous?”
The woman greeted her politely and continued into the restroom.
Kayla's mom lowered her voice so that Amber could barely hear.
“When I return . . . states . . . better . . . report.”
Inside the restroom, the toilet flushed and Mrs. Ross's voice got a bit louder.
“I'll hold the client off as long as I can. But I expect you to provide what I need within three days of that meeting.”
“I'll get it for you,” Kayla's dad said, his forehead dripping with sweat.
“No. I don't trust you and your ethical issues,” Kayla's mother said, making a face.
“Once the board meets, let me know the next time the Webbs are out of the office.”
Mrs. Ross stalked away, heading for the lobby. Mr. Ross shuffled back in the direction of his office, looking like a defeated man.
Amber waited several minutes before she crept from the closet. What should she do? Would she look like a paranoid lunatic if she reported what she had overheard? The whole thing sounded ridiculous.
Amber bit her lip. She had to wonder why she was afraid to talk to Hunter about this. Did she really think that he wouldn't believe her? What if something happened and she didn't tell him?
Before she could change her mind, she sent a text.
Amber: Need to talk urgently after you finish work.
Two minutes later, her cell phone rang.
“Amber? Are you okay?” Hunter's voice sounded strained.
“Hunter, I'm fine,” she said, “but I need to talk to you tonight.”
“I'll be there to pick you up in less than an hour. I'll leave a message for Mom if she isn't back by then.”
“Hunter, that's not . . .”
“I'll see you then,” Hunter said. The phone went dead.
Damn! She hadn't meant to scare him like that.
While she was waiting, she finally opened her private e-mail account out of curiosity. She supposed she was going to have to show him the strange photographs Kayla had e-mailed her as well. She had never even opened the last one because it had come on the morning of her kidnapping.
Amber debated opening it but then decided to wait for Hunter. He was already going to be ticked off that she had kept something from him in the first place. That needed to change, she thought. If she couldn't share everything, then how could they have a strong relationship.
No more than thirty minutes had passed when Amber got a text from Hunter. The car was waiting downstairs, but he insisted on coming up to escort her down.
She was walking down the corridor with her coat when Hunter burst into the front office like a violent storm moving through. His face was stern and his eyes were dark.
Chapter 11
The receptionist gasped as Hunter exploded through the front doors. Ignoring the shocked receptionist, he strode up and grabbed Amber, nearly knocking her over in his impatience to get to her. He ran his hands over her face and down her arms, as though expecting that she might have been injured.
For her part, Amber could only gape at him until he seemed satisfied that she was not in some mortal danger. What the hell? Had he come expecting to find her held hostage again? He was acting as though she might be broken.
Finally, he heaved a sigh of relief and engulfed her in a hug. She felt his heart pounding against her cheek. His whole body trembled in her arms. Okay, he definitely had some issues to work on!
“Hunter, I'm fine. See?” She tried to release herself from his claustrophobic embrace.
Hunter finally let her go and led her out the doors, speaking to the receptionist in such rapid French that Amber, who was still faithfully studying daily, had absolutely no clue what he said. But he waited until she was tucked into the car before he asked her what was going on.
Amber twisted her bracelet nervously.
“I feel like I'm being overly dramatic. Especially the way that you responded. But I overheard something a little while ago and I wasn't sure what to do.”
Hunter simply watched her carefully.
“It may or may not be related to
something I overheard a while back.”
Hunter's beautiful green eyes were flashing like lightning and his lips were in a tight line across his face. The veins in his neck bulged as he struggled to maintain his temper.
“Start at the beginning,” he said at last, his voice even and controlled.
For once, Amber didn't hesitate at the order. She related hearing Kayla and her mother plotting in the school building and concluded with recent events at the office.
When she was finished, Hunter wanted more details.
“I'm not clear on how you overheard Kayla and her mother at school.”
Amber glared at him.
“I know you're telling the truth. But what are you leaving out?”
“I was sort of behind the candy machine,” Amber muttered.
Hunter's eyebrow shot up. “Why does that not surprise me? I suppose that's how you tore your tee shirt and got the grease stains.”
“You noticed?” Amber gaped at him. “Why didn't you ask me about it?”
Hunter glared at her. “I was trying to practice being less controlling. But it looks like I should have given in to my perfectly normal compulsions!”
“Oh! Well, um . . . I think you did a great job,” Amber said lamely. “I had no idea you even noticed the shirt.”
Hunter closed his eyes and rubbed a spot in the middle of his forehead. When he spoke again, his voice was resigned.
“I suspect that not even you could manage to hide behind the copier,” he said. “So where were you playing detective from today?”
“Um . . . From the cleaning storage closet.”
Hunter nodded and, surprisingly, looked impressed. “Clever. Nobody would ever think to look in there.”
“So you're not mad at me?”
Hunter sighed. “I'm angry that you kept things from me. But this new information is helpful.”
Amber gaped at him. “You already knew something was going on?”
Hunter frowned. “With Kayla and her mom? No. And that would have been nice to know before now.”
Amber twisted in the seat to stare into Hunter's eyes.
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