“Loved…the daughter. She…didn’t love me…back,” he grated out.
Everything snapped into place. “So you hired Bryan White to pose as her boyfriend and take her out. You saw us there trying to protect her against the threatsyou sentand you turned on us too.”
His white lips twisted and he said no more, but Jaren had heard enough. The Broker’s business might have started out as a way to get things for people, but it had taken a darker turn.
The wail of sirens sounded.
He waited, but the police couldn’t arrive fast enough. He needed Trinny in his arms. He needed to tell her just how much he loved her and that he was never, ever letting her out of his sight again.
* * * * *
Exhaustion ran through Trinny like a wild river cutting through the walls of a canyon. She had barely slept and her adrenaline had long ago run out. She felt ready to collapse, but refused to let her eyes slip shut a single second, fearing that if she let Jaren out of her sight, he’d disappear.
He stopped the Bentley in front of a posh building. She stared at the façade impassively.
“Why are we here?” she asked him.
He cut the engine. “This is your apartment building. You have the penthouse.”
Her brows pinched together. “Yes, but why did you bring me here instead of putting me on a plane for Montana?”
Twisting in the seat, he said, “Just trust me on this, okay? You need rest and it’s safe.”
She nodded and he came around the vehicle to walk her to the entrance.
“This doesn’t seem real,” she whispered as they went inside the lobby.
With an arm around her waist, he led her to the elevator and waited for the doors to shut before speaking. “That’s the shock talking, doll. You’re in shock.”
She shook her head, but he didn’t argue with her, just held her close until they reached the top floor where her apartment was located. She’d purchased the space to have a place to stay when she returned to her hometown. Going back to her childhood home and seeing her mother wasn’t something she did very often, and this place was her personal escape.
Only when she walked through the door and saw the cold, modern furnishings and finishing touches, it couldn’t feel further from a home.
Jaren switched on a lamp. The day was dim and cloudy, which painted the space dark and moody. After the day she had, she was ready to curl up in bed.
With Jaren.
He locked the door and led her to the leather sofa. “Sit down. I’ll fix you a drink.”
She sank to the cushion and watched him cross to the bar on the far side of the room. She’d thrown a few parties here with her friends. The ones who weren’t really her friends at all.
Jaren’s forearms were roped with tendons that flexed as he poured two shots of tequila into the bottom of a glass and carried it back to her.
When he placed the tumbler in her hand, their fingers brushed. Those calluses had her insides clutching in awareness.
Was it wrong of her to want him so badly and right now after all that happened?
“You aren’t having a drink?”
“I don’t drink when I’m on duty.”
Her shoulders sank. “Will I always be a ward to you?”
His gaze ran over her. “You’re right.” He snatched the glass out of her hand and tossed it back, slamming down the entire contents in one huge gulp.
A laugh bubbled up. “You’re never predictable, are you?”
“Try not to be.” He set the glass on the coffee table and leaned over her, brushing a wisp of hair behind her ear and making her shiver with desire.