Page 14 of Elliot

Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “I knew what I needed to know before the conversation.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t. I didn’t know what type of man you were. I do now. You care deeply. You mourn the loss of your team. You no longer work with a team, so you’re shielding yourself from future hurt. You’re a protector at heart. You bought food for me, and you were mad at what you perceived as a lack of security around me. True, some of that was duty-related.” She paused. “Oh, did you know you have a small tic at the corner of your eye when you get upset? I noticed it today when you opened that box and again when I told you I didn’t set my alarm.”

He reached up and touched his right eye … so he knew. She hadn’t told him which eye had the movement. “Observant.”

“I am.” She leaned back. “Tell me what you’ve learned about me that wasn’t in the information your office gave you.”

Elliot leaned back and stared at her. “You are direct and expect people to disappoint you. You’re a vegetarian or vegan.”

She frowned. “How did you know that?”

“You’ve had white rice, not fried, which has eggs and shrimp. The wonton and egg rolls were stuffed with vegetables, and you made sure of that before you ate it. You haven’t chosen any meat from the array of food on the table. Instead, you searched for the carton of stir-fried veggies.”

“Good call. I’m probably closer to a pescatarian. I do eat seafood occasionally.” She smiled at him. “What else?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. “You come from a poor background.”

She cocked her head. “That was in your briefing?”

“No, it wasn’t. The information on you started in college.”

“Why would you think I’m from a poor background?”

“First, your clothes.”

She frowned. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing, they’re very nice, but they aren’t designer labels. Your home is a penthouse, but you don’t have one-of-a-kindartwork. The furniture isn’t this year’s style or, for that matter, last year’s. Probably because you think spending money on such things is wasteful. You’re frugal. You don’t have a host of people to take care of you. You have one personal assistant. I’m not sure if that’s because you believe you can’t trust people or you don’t want to pay for another salaried employee. The sweatshirt you’re wearing is from your college years, which was a good ten years ago, and your pants are frayed at the hem, and you have a hole in your sock. Finally, you offered to pay for my suit.”

Her toes instinctively curled. She loved those socks and had had them almost as long as she’d had the sweatshirt. “These clothes are comfortable, and you’re right; I don’t trust people,” she admitted. “Why was offering to pay for your suit a tell?”

“Rich people who’ve grown up rich have no idea how much clothes cost. The loss of one suit wouldn’t register as being important.” He shrugged. “Am I correct?”

“You are,” she admitted. “I can’t seem to adopt the wastefulness I see in others. Rideshare is cheaper than hiring a car full-time.” She looked both ways and leaned forward. “I bought this apartment because it was in foreclosure, and I knew the bank wouldn’t jack up the price like a realtor would advise a client to do. They needed to get their investment out of the price. I saved at least a million dollars by cutting out the middleman.”

The smile that spread across his face was dazzling, and it made her catch her breath. The fact she’d filed him away in the no-touch box didn’t seem to matter. He took her breath away like no one had ever done. Letting him stay there and be with her twenty-four hours a day would be harder than she wanted to admit.

Standing, he took his second paper plate to the counter. “I used to provide security for someone like you. A lady who grew up very poor. Her husband grew up poor, too, but ended upbeing the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world.”

Her? He’d said husband, right? And why, in the name of everything logical, was she worried about someone he used to know? Lord above, she’d been hit hard, hadn’t she?Don’t ask. Don’t ask. It isn’t any of your business. Stop… oh, hell…She cleared her throat. “What happened to her?”

“She and her family relocated and have someone else taking care of their security. I spent many years with them, and it was her personality I saw in you.”

That’s enough. Don’t ask the question you want to ask.“Were you in love with her?”

He barked out a laugh. “I love that family, but, no, I wasn’tin lovewith her. I worked for her and her husband for a long time. Their kids call me Uncle Elliot.”

Why that sent relief through her was a fact she didn’t want to acknowledge, but she would. The man was not attached, and that made him even more attractive. Damn it. Maya picked up her plate and took it to the counter. “Well, Uncle Elliot, as I said, we both learned something about each other tonight.” She opened the cabinet where the trash can rested and threw away the trash. “And I still have hours of work to finish.” She returned to the table and started folding the tops of the takeout to put into the fridge. His hand fell on hers, and the electric shock of the touch caused her to jump.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve got this.” Elliot moved his hand away and grabbed several containers.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She brushed her hands off and smiled again. “Night.”

“I won’t go to sleep until you’re safely in your room for the evening.” His words came from the other side of the refrigerator door.

She left the kitchen and headed to her office. Somehow, his presence with her in her apartment warmed a spot inside her she hadn’t realized was cold.

CHAPTER 6

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