Page 93 of Blind Prophet

“Is this from yesterday?”

“No, about an hour ago. I had trouble reaching you. He also called to check that you were okay. He saw the news about the crash.”

“I’ll check it.”

“Will you be available tomorrow?”

Saturday. Movement in the doorway catches my attention. It’s Caroline, wearing one of my button-down shirts, thick wool socks, and nothing else.

Fuck me, she’s gorgeous.

My gaze locks with hers.

“No. If something urgent arises, text, don’t call. Tell me what the issue is, and I’ll respond if it’s warranted.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jay knows to limit the content of his text, but as a precaution, I add, “Limit what you share, of course.”

He’ll understand. In any lawsuit, texts and emails can be subpoenaed.

I end the call and push up from my desk, but as I do, I remember Droga. If he’s sending over a story as a courtesy, and I delay in responding, he might release it, and I’ll lose my chance to bury it.

Unfortunately, Caroline reads me.

“Do you need some time?”

She claims I keep things in my head, but she’s so good at reading me it often feels I don’t have to speak. “Unfortunately. Give me ten minutes?”

I hope she can hear the apology in my tone.

“No problem. I should check in.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

She pauses, waiting, and I take in her long, lean legs and the flirtatious curve of the hemline. “Keep that outfit on. Okay? No changing.”

Her smile reaches her blue, blissful eyes. I take that as a win.

CHAPTER22

CAROLINE

My cheeks flame, and it’s impossible to suppress a smile. It’s the way his dark eyes heat when he sees something he wants, and well, when that something is me.

My socks slide against the tile, and with one cautious glance to confirm I’m alone, I glide across the corridor like a figure skater. I’m lost in the Dorian high. I forgot what it’s like to be wanted by a powerful man who can have anyone he desires.

Movement along the tree line catches my attention, and I instinctively scan the perimeter. Three visible security cameras, probably infrared coverage, and what looks like a ground-based motion detection system, which probably triggered the floodlight. Still, something feels off about those shadows.

Security wouldn’t hide, especially if they noticed I observed them. There are pockets in the snow, shadowy dips that might be the shape of a shoe. It’s too far on the perimeter to see from inside. I’d need to go outside to investigate, but…why? It’s probably deer.

The compound is secure. I’m in one of the safest homes in America.

With one last glance across the snow-covered clearing to the wood’s edge, I find my way to the guestroom.

You should move your things into my bedroom.

His words come back to me. It’s tempting. If he insists, I’ll acquiesce. But I won’t take that step on my own. He’s going to need to ask again. Or to move my suitcase himself. Most of my clothes were whisked away by his staff for cleaning.

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