Page 54 of Indecent Proposal

Even though I knew he was right, I glared at him and mashed the button again.

“You touch it more than three times you’re playing with it.”

“Hardy, har, har.” My mouth did twitch with amusement before I could stop myself, though.

I stepped on the elevator as the doors open, Vaughn right behind me, and we rode it all the way up to the nearly top floor where Richard had lived. My foot tapped impatiently the entire time. If I was right…

God, I hoped I was right. Yes, it made me feel like an idiot that I hadn’t put the pieces together until now. In hindsight, it seemed so obvious.

Richard hadn’t exactly been what you’d call a fanciful guy. I didn’t think anyone would assume he was the type to have a desk with a hidden compartment. But what else could ‘in the desk’ mean when all of his papers had been gone through, by three people now—including one assassin who knew exactly what to look for—without finding anything?

The elevator opened and Vaughn stepped ahead of me, holding out his arm. “Just in case,” he said, his voice tense.

I froze and hung back, watching as he pressed his ear to the front door, and then did something with his shoulder against it that seemed to be testing its weight. He nodded at me, then held his hand out. “Keys?”

I tossed them to him and he unlocked the door, pulling his gun out in one smooth motion with his other hand so that it pointed up ready to shoot at anyone on the other side.

Vaughn pushed the door further open, and I realized I was holding my breath. I exhaled slowly, but my heart continued to thunder in my chest.

A moment—an eternity—later, Vaughn called, “All clear.”

I exhaled sharply, relief flooding me, and I hurried after him.

Vaughn insisted on being in front, in case of a surprise, and we made our way through the apartment to the office. It was all covered up—looked like the police were finished with it and so housekeeping, or maybe Richard’s family, had begun the process of cataloguing and clearing things.

I pulled back the white cloth covering the desk and bent down in front of it. Okay.If I were a hidden compartment, where would I be?

The desk was thick and sturdy, the kind that would probably be great for ducking under and hiding in. It could stop quite a few bullets, that was for sure. But where in all of this thick wood could a carpenter hide a secret drawer?

I crouched down, feeling along the underside of the desk, where a person’s legs would go, and then checked the round handles of the drawers in case any of them were actually buttons that you could twist or push in. Nothing.

Next, I opened the drawers and felt along the bottoms and backs of them. There was nothing in the first three, but in the bottom drawer, along the back, I felt something… depress.

The side of the interior of the desk where the legs went popped open slightly, revealing that the entire side panel could be jarred open. My heart leapt up into my throat.

“Holy shit,” Vaughn breathed. “Way to go, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t help but preen under the praise, and pulled the panel open the rest of the way. The side of the desk had a very slim compartment, similar to one of those briefcases that was designed just to hold a few files. And inside…

It was just one folder. It wasn’t even labeled. I opened it up, scanning the pages. Vaughn peered over my shoulder.

I wasn’t an expert in finance. Richard knew so much more than I did, obviously, it was his job and he had been damn good at it. But after dating him for so long, I’d heard him talk about it enough to know the basics, and I was pretty sure what I was looking at now was evidence of Hardman Holdings Inc. funneling money illegally.

Vaughn drew in a sharp breath, though, and it made me look up at him. His face was grave. “What?”

“Looks like your ex’s company has been a front, or at least has an underlayer,” Vaughn said in a grim tone. “I’ll have to get this to my team so that they can get it to the right members of law enforcement. But this is looking like Hardman Holdings isn’t just a place for rich people to invest their money in charities and stuff—it’s a place for criminals and other… let’s say unsavory types, to get their money handled and hidden so that law enforcement, and the government, can’t come after it.”

Oh, damn. “I figured it would be fraud or something,” I admitted, my voice faint.

“No, this is much, much worse. Which finally fucking explains why they sent an assassin after you, thinking you knew this information.” Vaughn took the folder from me and straightened. “All right, let’s get out of here and get this taken care of.”

I stood up too, only to suddenly find myself trembling and feeling faint. Vaughn looked at me with alarm. “Claire? You okay?”

I nodded. “Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—holy shit. We have it. I’m—I’m going to be safe. I don’t have to run for my life or look over my shoulders all the time anymore.”

Vaughn pulled me against his chest and I melted without hesitation. I felt completely safe in his arms. The Claire of just a few weeks ago would’ve scoffed at the idea that this arrogant, grump of a man could make me feel anything but irritation, but now, I truly did feel safer in his arms than anywhere else.

“You are safe,” he promised me. “We’re going to get everyone in on this, including my boys, all right? You’re no longer in danger.” He paused. “You won’t have to go back to the cabin, either.”