"You said yourself last night you were on a story. And journalists always say they are going to be keeping schtum but it never happens. I'm not risking it." Simon clasped her shoulders and turned her round, gently pushing her into the bedroom. "You go home and forget about the story. If you run anything on Grattidge, you will end up in prison."
Whitney darted to the side and caused Simon to stumble as he pushed at air. He righted himself and turned to glare at Whitney, who planted her hands on her hips.
"You'll throw me in prison for doing my job?" She demanded.
"I'd throw you in jail if it means you won't jeopardize a government operation." Simon snapped back. "Do you want to spend ten years in prison for that?"
From reading his expression, Whitney knew that he was serious. He would send her to prison if he so wished it. She knew she wouldn't be able to cope behind bars. Whitney gulped but didn't back down.
"Let me help you and I won't write it." She said.
"I told you, it's too dangerous. And this is not for civilians."
"Tough. I can help." Whitney put her hands together in a plea. "Please, Simon, let me help. Then I won't write the story."
She knew what she wanted and she was determined to get it. That story was hers and Whitney was prepared to do anything to get it. And if it meant being in the company of the most gorgeous man she had met in a long time who was broodier than a goth teenager, then she would do it.
It certainly helped if the person she was going to be 'working' with was easy on the eye.
Simon closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.
"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."
Whitney's heart lightened. He was agreeing to it. She didn't think he'd go for it. But he was.
She refrained from jumping into his arms and hugging him, settling for a smile and a gracious nod.
"Thank you."
Simon glared at her.
"But if you go back on your promise, I'll drive you to jail myself."
"I promise." Whitney grinned and winked. "You can monitor everything I do."
Simon growled.
"That'll be the day."
#
Whitney was surprised Simon had actually agreed to her terms. He was letting her help. But she was under no illusions that Simon was doing it because he was easily taken in; chances were he agreed because he considered her a threat and wanted her to stay close by in order to make sure that she didn't write the story about Bryce Grattidge and the sex slave auctions.
So the fact that he didn't bat an eyelid when Whitney gave him a list of things she wanted from her apartment - she couldn't go around in his robe and her party clothes weren't adequate for several days - and her laptop was at the top of the list before her clothes and toiletries. Maybe he was planning on putting a bug on it so he could monitor what she typed. Whitney made a mental note to check when she got it.
Still dressed in the robe but with her knickers and bra on underneath, Whitney planted herself on the couch and flicked through the TV. It had Sky and Whitney went through boring commercials and flat soap operas before settling on trash TV.
Her previous boyfriends had complained about her love of reality TV, particularly the courtroom dramas, but Whitney had ignored them, enjoying seeing real people acting like complete idiots.
It was refreshing to know she wasn't the only stupid person on the planet.
After an hour and a half of watching reruns of her favourite show, Whitney's stomach started rumbling. It was then that she realized she hadn't had any breakfast. She hoped Simon had some food and it wasn't rabbit food. While she ate her greens, Whitney didn't particularly like them.
The kitchen was too clean for her liking, almost sterile. Whitney guessed that was how Simon lived his life; sterile and OCD, not leaving anything out of place and over-cleaning everything. It was the complete opposite to Whitney who, while keeping things relatively clean, wasn't the tidiest of people.
He was going to have a field day when he saw her apartment. At least she had done her washing and put the laundry away.
She filled the kettle and began checking through the cupboards, looking for coffee. She found teabags instead and put one in a clean mug. Then, she retrieved the bread and popped two into the toaster. A quick look in the fridge revealed a half-empty bottle of milk, butter and bacon and eggs. Whitney took them all out and set about making breakfast.
Her meals weren't necessarily healthy at times but Whitney knew how to cook. She always made sure that she home-cooked everything, eating out or having takeaway once a week. It didn't stop the pounds piling on but Whitney was happy with the fact that she knew how to cook. Especially breakfast. She could cook up a storm and make it taste like the top cuisine.
A hunt of the other cupboards found a tin of beans and potatoes. Whitney also found some onions that were just on the good side. Chopping the onions and potatoes, she put them into a sizzling pan she had placed on the hob and sprinkled in some mixed herbs. Then she used another pan for the sausages and eggs, grilling bacon in the oven.
Simon would be hungry and there was no harm in making food for both of them.
Whitney served the food evenly onto both plates, her mug of tea beside hers, and then looked around for the cutlery. She opened the drawer nearest the sink and found two sets of cutlery. She was fishing out the knives and forks when Whitney noticed something sticking out from under the steak knives holder.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she reached for the slip of paper and pulled it out. It wasn't a bit of paper, she realized, but a Polaroid. There was a crease down the middle and it looked tattered but Whitney recognized Simon, sitting shirtless on a beach, sunglasses covering his eyes. He had his arms round a blonde woman wearing a blue bikini, leaning against him as they laughed.
Simon was gorgeous before but seeing him like this had the temperature of the cottage going up several notches. Whitney felt her core clench and arousal lick at her skin.
If Simon ever smiled like that at her, she was going to end up in a molten puddle on the floor.
"Thinking of using that in a story?"
Whitney squeaked and spun around, slapping a hand to her chest. Simon was standing by the couch, two backpacks and a computer case at his feet. She hadn't heard him come in. He was glaring at her, his eyes going to the Polaroid.
"I wasn't..."
"Yeah." Simon sneered as he approached her. "Like a reporter never had an agenda."
Whitney was too hurt by the comment to react to Simon snatching the photograph away. She wrapped the dressing gown tighter around her like a barrier between them. This side of Simon she didn't like. Obviously, this woman was someone he was close to, someone he wasn't willing to share.
Someone who had hurt him if the pain in his eyes was anything to go by. Whitney reached out and touched his arm.
"Who is she, Simon?"
Simon snarled and shook her hand off.
"None of your business." He ripped the photo into four pieces and threw them into the trash can. "I'm going back out. Your things are here so you've got things to do." He glared at her. "If you even attempt to leave, I'll know."
Whitney's temper rose.
"You can't keep me here." She snapped. "You'll be as bad as the men who kidnapped me."
Simon grunted.
"Just be glad I'm not sending you back as damaged goods."
Whitney could only stare as Simon stormed across the lounge and out the front door, slamming the door behind him. Her appetite now gone, she went across to the couch and sat, rubbing her arms around her middle and taking deep breaths, tears stinging at her eyes.
She would not cry. She would not.
#
Simon was still smouldering hours later as he sat in his jeep while watching Grattidge's apartment with the use of hidden cameras. When Grattidge had been out at work, Simon had slipped inside dressed as maintenance and got into his apartment, planting cameras everywhere in the rooms, including the bathroom.
/> They were activated the minute someone stepped inside and now Simon was watching Grattidge in his lounge, entertaining two young women in skimpy outfits.
He thought Whitney had no right to go snooping. But it was the journalist part of her to go looking for something to make a story out of. However, as the day had gone by and Simon had found a lot of empty time waiting for Grattidge to get back, he had begun to think more clearly about the situation. He still wasn't happy but he had surmised that it was his own fault as much as Whitney's.
Why he still held onto that photograph long after the incident, Simon had no idea. And it was stupid to leave it in the cutlery drawer. Inevitably, Whitney was going to go in there and accidentally find it. And Simon couldn't expect to sit on the couch all day twiddling her thumbs.
That food had looked good and Simon's stomach had growled for food when he smelt it coming into the drive. But when he had seen the picture in Whitney's hand, all thoughts of food had disappeared. He had managed to eat from a nice little diner down the street but it didn't seem to compare to the food Whitney had thoughtfully prepared for both of them.
He was going to have to go back once he was relieved and apologize to her for his behaviour. While she shouldn't have been looking at his things, he shouldn't have been as rude as he had been. His puma had been unhappy with him all day, swiping at him every chance it got.
They were going to have to go for a very long run before Simon faced Whitney. His beast wanted blood or sex, it didn't mind which. It would be better to wear the beast out than let Whitney get hurt or humiliated because his puma wanted some action.
His mate deserved better than that.
Things were heating up in Grattidge's apartment. One of the girls was sitting astride his lap while the other girl, whose dress was on the floor to reveal her thong panties and nothing else, undressed her from behind, kissing her neck and cupping her breasts while Grattidge's hand played between the woman's legs.
Simon didn't want to watch. He wasn't a voyeur but he couldn't take his eyes off the scene. His cock hardened at the sight and immediately an image of Whitney paraded across his mind, stripping out of his robe to reveal her naked body. His beast growled, pleased at the imagery he was throwing up.
His thoughts were distracted when his cell phone began ringing. A glance at Simon’s phone told him he wouldn't be allowed to ignore this call. Not from this man. Sighing, he put the phone into the holder on his dashboard and put the call on speaker.
"I'm kind of busy here, John."
"Sorry but I do need an update."
Simon sighed. John Chalk was his boss and handler as well as a close friend. He was also one of the few people who knew about Simon's secret and that enabled them to work as a close team. But it also did mean he had to check up on Simon more than he should so they could make sure his beast was kept in check.
It was Simon's request to check in more regularly but it was still a pain in the butt.
He gave John a quick update, omitting the incident between him and Whitney. It wasn't much so it only took a couple of minutes to relay.
"What have you done about the girl?" John asked.
Simon closed his eyes. This was where he was going to get into trouble.
"She's still at the cottage."
"What? I thought you were going to send her back with a warning not to make an article about this."
"I think she'll be safer if she stays with me for now." That and she was his mate. He wasn't letting her get away. "Those men might click who I am and try to get her back."
"That's not a reason to keep her. You know that as well as I do, Simon."
Simon said nothing, focusing on the activity in Grattidge's apartment. All three participants were naked, Grattidge lying on his back on the couch. One girl was bouncing on his cock and the other was grinding on Grattidge's face as he lapped greedily while the two girls curled their tongues together in an erotic kiss.
He heard the audible groan from John, the sign that he had finally clicked at what was going on.
"Oh, shit, don't tell me she's your mate."
"Okay, I won't."
"Seriously? Why didn't you tell me this morning?"
"I didn't want to say anything at all." Simon pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "But letting her go while Grattidge is still about is asking for trouble. I just wanted to make sure she was safe, John."
"What about when you're not there?"
Simon had sorted that already, long before he left to get Whitney's things from her apartment.
"Already covered. I called Lucas to watch the cottage when I'm not there. If you add the security I've put up around the place, Whitney will be safe."
It also prevented Whitney from leaving if she wanted to due to the alarms. Only Simon and Lucas knew the code to switch it off. Whitney wasn't going to be harmed but she wouldn't be leaving either.
If Simon had anything to do with it, he'd make sure she didn't waltz out of his life. Selfish as it was, his puma was demanding its mate soon and Simon was starting to give in.
"I hope you're right." John growled. "I'm not going down with you if you get a civilian killed."
"She's not going to die." Although the thought of Whitney even getting a scratch from the ones who would want her dead left a nasty taste in Simon's mouth. His hands clenched. "I won't let it happen."
And he wouldn't. Whitney wasn't going to be hurt on his watch.
Chapter 4: The Ex
Whitney saw the lights of a car flash across the ceiling. Sitting up on the couch, she went over to the window and peered through the curtains. Simon's car had pulled up outside and he was climbing out.
Whitney ducked away as Simon turned towards the cottage and ran up the stairs to the bedroom. She had been lying on the couch, hugging a cushion watching more trash TV and craving ice cream to try and make her feel better. Even changing into her favourite zebra-print pyjamas didn't improve her mood.
The words Simon had directed at her before he left still hurt. Badly.
She jumped into the bed and kept her back on the stairs, burrowing deep into the duvet. She heard the door open and close before footsteps came up the stairs. Whitney shut her eyes tight and tried not to move.
"Whitney?"
Whitney didn't move, hoping he would go away. She wasn't in the mood to talk.
Her mother had told her once that the ones who should be arrested for being too handsome were the nastier ones. She had been referring to Whitney's father. And she was right with Simon.
She felt the bed dip as Simon sat down.
"I know you're not asleep. I saw you at the window just now." He sighed. "We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Whitney, please."
Maybe it was the pain in his voice. Maybe it was the fact he said please. But Whitney found herself slowly rolling over and staring up at Simon. His face was half in the shadows but the expression in his eyes had Whitney's heart aching.
Simon reached out and brushed a thumb delicately across her wet cheek.
"I'm sorry, I made you cry."
Whitney sniffed and swiped at her eyes.
"I didn't cry." She lied.
"Don't lie to me, sweetheart."
The term of endearment had Whitney staring. Had someone kidnapped this man and replaced him with a clone? This one seemed to be different to the one who had left that morning.
Simon dropped his hand away from her and looked away, closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I said what I said. But my past is my business. I don't know why I even keep that picture. That's a chunk of my life I want to forget."
Whitney sat up. She understood about wanting to forget things about what happened before today; there were plenty of things in her life she wanted to forget. She pulled the duvet to her breasts. Even dressed in her own pyjamas, she felt somewhat exposed to Simon.
"Who was she?" She asked quietly.
"My ex Natalya." Simon said bitterly. "
We were together for three years. She said she loved me. I was ready to ask her to marry me." His jaw tightened. "Then, I caught her in bed with my best friend. So I cut both of them out of my life."
Whitney wanted to reach out and lean on him, give him some comfort. But, she didn't know how Simon would react so she kept her distance.
"So trust is a big issue for you."
"It always has." Simon shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face. "I should've thrown that photo out a long time ago. It only brought me pain whenever I looked at it."
Whitney understood that. Everyone clung onto something in the past even if it hurt them. She was always doing that.
Her opinion of Simon changed. He hadn't done it with intentional malice. She touched his hand.
"You can trust me, Simon." She said quietly. "I'm a very trustworthy person."
Simon grunted and glanced up at her.
"No disrespect to you, honey, but I don't trust people in the writing business. They're always after something. And, it's very hard to gain my trust at all."
"I can imagine." Whitney grunted. She lifted her chin at him. "But I'm determined to get it."
Simon stared at her. Whitney could see his thoughts going round and round in his head. His eyes glowed golden for a brief moment before disappearing. Whitney stared. Had she seen that correctly?
Simon coughed and looked away. It was hard to tell but Whitney was sure that he was blushing.
"How are your things? Did I get everything you wanted?"
"Yes, thanks."
They were silent for a moment more. And another. Whitney could feel the tension building and her heart began to pick up speed.
Simon coughed and drew away, standing and rubbing his hands on his jeans.
"I'll let you go back to sleep." He said gruffly. "Goodnight, Whitney."
Whitney could only stare at his retreating back as he left the room. Then, she realized that she hadn't replied and swallowed.
"Goodnight, Simon."
#
Bought by the Puma (Studly Shifters Book 1) Page 3
