Page 15 of Little Did You Know

Hannah's heels clicked against the marble as she turned toward the door. "All right, then I guess I'll head home."

"Thanks, Hannah." I forced my attention back to her. "I owe you one."

"Nah." She paused in the doorway, shoulder propped against the frame. Her expression softened into something genuine. "I like her. Hopefully, we can hang out again."

I smiled and nodded. It would be nice for Olivia to have a friend here in Florida. Someone she could trust.

I watched Hannah's taillights disappear down the driveway before closing the door. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed once, marking the half hour. I found Arlena in the kitchen, preparing to leave for the night.

"Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Pearson?" She untied her apron placing it on the counter.

"No, thank you, Arlena. Get home safe."

After she left, I poured myself two fingers of scotch and threw it back before pouring another glass and carried it upstairs. The questions I'd been collecting all day needed sorting. Fifty million dollars didn't just disappear without a trail.

The house settled into night-quiet. I paced the hallway, pausing at the sound of running water from Olivia's room. Arlena's departing footsteps had long faded from the marble foyer, leaving only the subtle creaks of the house settling.

I counted off ten minutes on my watch, then ten more, rehearsing questions in my mind. Finally, my knuckles met the heavy wood of her door with three measured taps. It swung open before the echo died, as if she'd been waiting just on the other side. Steam escaped like a sigh, carrying the scent of jasmine and something warmer.

The silk robe clung to her curves, pink and with black lace shifting like shadows as she leaned against the doorframe. Droplets of water traced slow paths down her neck, disappearing beneath the collar of her robe. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to the floor before climbing back to her face. My thoughts wandered down dangerous paths as my hands clenched and unclenched at my sides.

The hall clock's midnight toll jerked me back to reality, each chime a warning. I cleared my throat and took a half-step back, creating necessary distance.

Questions about Emmett burned in my throat, fighting with the warnings from the bank, the fire marshal's report, all the pieces that didn't fit. But Olivia stood there in that thin silk robe, droplets of water still clinging to her collarbone, and my carefully prepared interrogation dissolved.

"We should talk." The words caught in my throat like sandpaper, rough against all the questions I needed to ask.

She lifted her gaze to mine, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear. For a heartbeat, something dark flickered behind those ice-blue eyes—fear? Calculation? Her fingers stilled against her temple, and the expression vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.

Her shoulders slumped then, the perfect picture of exhaustion. The silk robe slid slightly, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone. "Tomorrow?" A yawn escaped her lips as she blinked heavily. "It's been..."—another yawn, this one maybe too perfectly timed, her hand not quite covering her mouth—"...a long day."

I studied her face, searching for the truth behind the performance. My index finger tapped against my thigh.

Professional instincts warred with personal ones. Everything I'd learned today screamed for answers now. But her vulnerability seemed so genuine, her fatigue so real. Or was that just another performance?

"Right. Tomorrow." I pulled her door shut, but sleep was the last thing on my mind. In my office down the hall, bank statements and investigator reports waited. Tonight, would be a long night of piecing together who Olivia Ryan really was.

Chapter Eight

Four in the morning. My ceiling fan cast shifting shadows that matched my restless thoughts. Nine years of sleepless nights had taught me every crack in these walls, every whisper of the house settling. Sexual release used to grant me a few hours of peace, but lately, even that escape had abandoned me, leaving me alone with an emptiness that grew deeper with each passing hour.

Around four-thirty, I'd gotten tired of lying sleepless in my bed. I needed to move, so I headed down to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I leaned against the wall.

The bottle was still cold against my palm when movement caught my eye—a shadow detaching itself from the darkness of the doorway. My pulse quickened with recognition even before my mind caught up. A small amount of light streamed through the small window above the sink, not enough to make out the figure, but I had a pretty good idea who it was.

I didn't want the intruder to know I was there if it wasn't her, so I stood completely still in the shadows until she passed the window, and I was positive it was Olivia. I reached over and flipped on the light. She screamed, startling me enough that I dropped my water bottle.

"Shit." I fumbled for the rolling bottle, water pooling around my feet. "What are you doing?"

Olivia pressed a hand to her chest, her pulse visible in the hollow of her throat. "I couldn't sleep."

At that moment, I realized what she had been wearing under that robe. She was in another nightshirt, but this one was more like lingerie. The pink and black silk piece barely covered anything, and my cock was jumping for joy.

"I came down to get a drink."

"Wearing that?" I growled, pointing to her nightwear.

Her cheeks turned red as she looked down to see what she was wearing. "Uh, yes." She was embarrassed, and I was turned on. "Hannah didn't give me a lot of sleep clothes options."

---