“Do you believe this?” She kicked his shin then—hard. It was unexpected and painful.
He grabbed her other arm and held her still. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe just that my father was killed and no one will pull their heads out of their asses long enough to question Raymean’s lies. My father would never have ridden that bike. We knew it was dangerous. It was a prop. A dummy bike we kept at Raymean while we worked on the real one.”
“The one in the truck.” She’d said she’d built it with her father.
With her chest heaving, she ground out, “Yes. When it came to inventing things, my father was good with the big picture. He’d come up with the idea, and I’d find a way to make it possible. As soon as we had a working alternative power cell, we were going to swap the bikes out. Raymean was going to get their product.” Her eyes filled with tears. “They didn’t have to kill him. They would have gotten what they wanted.”
He thought about how she’d periodically spoke in geek-ese and then brushed it off. Science channel, my ass. I knew she was brilliant. His grip on her loosened. “Why doesn’t the article say anything about you if you were working with him?”
“No one knew. My father and I shared whatever we made, but it was his name on all the projects.”
Gabe tried to imagine anyone happily remaining in the shadows while their work was being claimed by someone else. “How do I know you didn’t kill your father because you felt he was stealing your ideas?”
She blinked quickly a few times, then answered. “If I were a killer I would have shot you when you arrived. No one besides Frank knows I’m here. It would have been easier than waiting for you to leave and hoping you didn’t find the bike.”
Looking back at their time together through that lens twisted Gabe’s emotions. He’d genuinely liked her, but everything he thought he knew about her was a lie. Except that she was smart. She wanted him to believe she and her father were innocent, but how could he believe anything she said? Her version of how her father had died didn’t make sense. A company as big as Raymean wouldn’t kill someone, and if they did, they wouldn’t do it in a high-profile lab explosion that made them look bad. “Why are you hiding if you’ve done nothing wrong?”
She took a deep breath. “After they killed him, they came looking for me. Maybe they thought I had his designs. I don’t know. No one knew about the second bike or that I was helping him. My father wouldn’t have said anything about it. We’d worked on many projects together, and he’d never said a word.”
“And you were okay with that? Never getting any recognition?”
Her gaze was steady. “I had my father. That’s all that mattered. I would have done anything to keep him safe. Anything.” She shook beneath Gabe’s hold. “I thought when he retired from the Army he would be safe. I thought I knew best. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
Gabe could see the pain in her eyes. Why would she believe she was responsible when she blamed Raymean? And what exactly was the equipment she was attempting to steal away? Why the aliases? “How did you end up here? How do you know Frank?”
“He was an inventor like my father.” She referenced the ranch around them. “He took the job as caretaker because he wanted a place where he could tinker unencumbered without fearing people would steal his ideas.”
Gabe remembered what he’d drawn in the ledger. “What was he working on before he left? The big metal tub.” When she looked surprised, he added, “He left papers behind in my father’s office. It looked like a bomb design.”
She shook her head. “Frank? His last invention was a horizontal toaster that slid bread out onto a plate when it was done. He was working on a clothing hamper that could wash and then dry a person’s clothing. Please don’t tell anyone. He thinks it’ll be huge.”
Her last words were uttered in a whisper with a small smile that made him want to hug her. She’d made a fool of him over and over again, and he hated the part of himself that wanted to believe her. The idea of holding her quickly brought on a slew of other things he’d love to do to her. Other women never made me this stupid. No wonder we’re slow to evolve as a species. She’s weaving a tale of corporate corruption and all I can think about is how she’d whisper my name in wonder if I teased her nipples with my teeth. After a few long moments, he realized she was waiting for a response from him. I’m a jackass. Focus. I can’t stand here holding on to her forever.
His phone beeped. He called his team and told them he was fine but to keep digging for more on her and her father. He wanted to know the name of her childhood pets. Everything. “You’re not leaving tonight.”
“Why would I stay? And before you say because you won’t let me go, I need to warn you that tying me up won’t be as easy as you think.”
He didn’t doubt that claim at all. Nothing about her was easy, and that was part of what he found exciting. “I won’t have to restrain you.” He let her go. “You’ll stay on your own volition.”
She took a step back, looking like she was gauging if she could make it inside the house before him. “And why would I do that?”
He confidently pocketed his hands. Unlike her, he had nothing to lose. “Run and I’ll tell the police everything. There’ll be nowhere you can hide after that.”
She searched his face. “But you won’t tell them if I stay?” A blush spread up her neck and across her cheeks. “If you think I’ll sleep with you in exchange for your silence—”
“Whether or not you’d sleep with me has already been answered, but that’s not what I’m offering you.” Yes, not calling the police allowed for the possibility that he’d end up locked in the trunk of his car wondering why the hell he’d let his dick take the lead in this decision. His gut told him it was worth the risk, and he was rarely wrong. Except the time he broke his arm. Hunter had convinced him that being deposited on top of a mountain and having to ski back to civilization was better than staying at a resort. And when Hunter had talked him into going shark fishing. So, my instincts are fine; it’s Hunter’s that will get me killed. “You want someone to believe you’re innocent? Convince me.”
Then sleep with me again.
Or the reverse.
God, I hope she’s not a criminal.
Chapter Eleven
Gabe looked so cocky Josephine half wished she were the type to knock someone out and disappear into the night. Convince me. The way he said it sounded a lot like he was asking for a repeat performance of their earlier romp.
Or is that wishful thinking?
I’m fighting for my life here. I should not be looking at him like a starving person who stumbled across a steak. There is absolutely nothing sexy about how I couldn’t get away from him until he let me go.
It doesn’t matter that he’s so strong. So tall. And when he chased me it reminded me of every fantasy I’ve ever had about being taken by a marauding pirate.
He threated to turn me in if I leave.
What would he think if he knew how much I want to stay?
She chewed her bottom lip. This is everything I didn’t want. What happened to not wanting to involve him? Not putting him in harm’s way?
“I don’t know what Raymean will do if they find me—or you, if you’re associated with me.” He has to know there might be consequences.
He frowned. “I have people I trust. We’ll be safe.”
His confidence reminded her of what her father had said just before he died, and panic welled within her. She felt like she might throw up. “Call the police. Tell them you found me here and have no idea what I’m doing on the property. I couldn’t bear it if you get yourself killed, too.”
His frown deepened. “No one is going to kill me.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “They killed my father. They lied to cover it up. Why wouldn’t they do the same to us? Do you think your tie collection and pretty smile is going to save us?”
His head snapped back. “Not that I need to prove myself to
you, but real estate is a cut-throat business. You don’t make it to the top by letting anyone intimidate you. I’ve tangled with everyone from senators to mob bosses, and I’ve won. I don’t fight dirty, but I’ll take down anyone who comes for me. Convince me they did what you say, and we’ll tear Raymean apart from the inside out.”
Wow.
A spark of hope lit within her. She might, just might, have someone on her side. That feeling was followed by a gnawing fear that things had gone from very bad to possibly catastrophic. If she allowed herself to care for Gabe, care for anyone, she was giving Raymean the chance to take someone else from her, either physically or with their lies. “Can your security team be trusted?”
“I wouldn’t keep them if I questioned their loyalty. Yes.”
She swallowed her fear. She and her father had never thought security was necessary, and that hadn’t ended well for them. “Then you should have a few of them here. Just in case.”
He gave her a long, steady look then nodded.
“What do you know about stabilizing the discharge of magnesium-ion?” she asked.
He tapped the breast pocket of his jacket where he kept his phone. “What I can google tonight.”
Convince him? How? “I can show you my notes, but they won’t prove much if you don’t know the issues with current power cells on stealth vehicles or the challenges I’m facing with the ones I’m hoping will replace them. I’m making progress, but it’s a leap forward, a slide back, then nothing until another leap. Just because it doesn’t work yet doesn’t mean I’m not close.”
“I’m a reasonably intelligent man. Explain it, and I’ll get it.”
“I can’t reduce everything I’ve done down to a five-minute presentation.”
“You don’t have to.” He took out his phone and sent off a text. “You have a month.”
“A month?” Her jaw fell open. She’d been living day to day, not allowing herself to think long term. Too many questions descended upon her whenever she asked herself where this would lead. When she did stabilize the power cell, and she was confident she would, she’d have a tool to clear her father’s name and face Raymean head-on. First she’d prove that the project they claimed was impossible had been very much possible. Then, somehow, she’d use that to find out what happened to him.
Although she’d never wavered in her resolve, she’d imagined vindicating her father alone. She didn’t know if the possibility of having Gabe by her side made that fated day more or less scary.
“I just told my lawyer I’m keeping the ranch. That means for the next thirty-one days I live in Calabasas. I’ll work from here and no one will question why. You can use that time to build a case for why anyone should believe you. That is, of course, if you’re not still lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then tell me which boxes you need moved into the main house tonight. We’ll move the rest in tomorrow.”
“I’m not staying in the main house.”
He stepped closer, towering over her. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I make up my mind about you.”
Man, that’s hot.
I know, I know. I can’t help myself. Look at those eyes. After today, all of my fantasy pirates will have his hazel eyes. They’ll all kiss the way Gabe Brannigan does and have hands that reduce me to mindless submission.
I should demand to stay in the guest house again, but—seriously? I don’t want to be alone and afraid because I think every noise means Raymean found me.
“Fine,” she said, hoping she sounded irritated with him. “But only because you’ve left me no choice.”
His smile was wickedly smug as if he knew exactly why she’d agreed.
Later that night, Gabe rolled over in his bed and punched his pillow. Not every idea he had was a good one.
He thought he’d planned for everything. Two key members of his security team were on their way to the ranch. They’d been instructed to stop at his apartment and pack everything from the list he’d sent. He sent his office staff instructions for how to keep him in the loop while covering what he couldn’t while he fulfilled the requirements of his father’s will. Food was scheduled for delivery. He’d even called his aunt and told her he’d decided to keep the ranch but that working from there would have him so busy he’d appreciate if no one visited. She promised to spread the word.
The keys to his car as well as the rental were on his nightstand along with the batteries from both the old car she’d worked on and the truck. Her gun was locked in the safe in his father’s office. Her bike was upstairs in the hallway outside their bedrooms. Not an easy feat, but one he was certain she couldn’t undo without a substantial amount of noise.
He’d thought of everything—except how it would feel to sleep in the same house as Josephine and not be able to go to her. That was pure torture.
This has to be as difficult for her. If not, I’m some kind of sick pervert who is essentially holding a woman hostage.
He rolled over again and covered his face with his pillow. A month is a very long time if this doesn’t turn out well.
It could have been the lateness of the hour, but he found some of the situation pathetically amusing. Daddy, tell me the story again about how you met Mommy.
Well, it all started when Daddy lost his business because he was caught harboring a criminal . . .
Why, Daddy? Why would you do something that stupid?
One day, son, you’ll meet a woman who turns your brain to oatmeal and your dick to a pogo stick in your pants. The only thing that will feel worse than being with her will be the idea of never seeing her again.
Is that what this is?
He rolled over again. I don’t even want kids. What the hell is she doing to me?
Chapter Twelve
Josephine woke in a good mood. She smiled through her shower, something she hadn’t realized until she caught her expression in the bathroom mirror. It’s just because I’m not tired for once. Knowing Gabe was in the next room had made her feel safe enough that she’d slept deeper than she had since she’d lost her father. Six months of suppressed grief, fear of discovery, and brain-stretching research had left her feeling frayed. Is it simply because Gabe is formidable that I feel . . . calm beneath his shelter? Knowing his men would be there by morning had added an extra feeling of peace. Odd.
I’m not sure if he’s my captor or my protector.
I wonder if he knows.
Gabe hadn’t taken advantage of the fact that they’d been alone in the house, and she hadn’t expected him to. He was a man of integrity. Her honesty track record was shaky, but his was solid. She knew he still wanted her. His hot gaze followed her, but that was perfectly fine because she was finding it equally impossible to concentrate on anything but him.
The uncertainty of the situation, though, had reset their relationship. It wasn’t as if they could pick up where they’d left off. Everything had changed. They needed to find their footing with each other again.
I keep thinking of him in terms of how he makes me feel instead of focusing on the reality of our situation. We barely know each other. He doesn’t believe me now, and he may never. Where will that land us? Perhaps there will be no us . . . not that I ever believed it was possible.
Choosing the proper attire for the day proved harder than she’d anticipated. She normally didn’t think much about what she wore, but every option sent a message. She didn’t want to look like she was dressing to impress him, but she wanted to hold his attention. This time not because she needed to distract him.
Knowing he was as attracted to her as she was to him was a heady feeling she wasn’t ready to destroy with a frumpy outfit. She finally decided on jean shorts, a simple T-shirt, and no contacts. The contrast of her jet black hair and her light blue eyes was striking, but still not her.
She followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen. Several plates of food were set out on the table. Scrambled eggs. Pancakes.
Bowls of cut fruit. “You were busy this morning.” She thought about it and asked, “Or is this the chef again?”
He smiled, stood, and held out a chair for her. “Of course it’s the chef. My cooking skills begin and end with making coffee.”
“Mine, too.” When she sat down, he hovered behind her chair for a moment. She thought he was about to lean down and kiss her, but he straightened and took the seat across from her. She picked up her fork and stabbed an egg. “Do you think it’s odd that we’re having breakfast like we’re friends?”
He’d been in the middle of taking a sip of coffee and lowered his mug to the table before answering. “I considered sliding a tray of food under your door, but the chef insisted on serving it here.” His voice was so serious she almost missed the twinkle in his eyes.
She popped a bite of egg into her mouth and chewed while rolling her eyes. “You know you don’t scare me. I slept like a baby last night.”
“I slept like shit,” he said grumpily.
She laughed, and he almost smiled.
“I read your note.”
Josephine dropped her fork, then picked it up again, trying not to look as anxious to hear his response as she was. “And?”
“You didn’t have to write anything to me. You could have simply left before I returned.”
“I knew what you thought had happened between us, and I couldn’t let you keep thinking that. I hated that I let you think it at all.”
He studied her for several moments. “I can’t decide if you are the most calculating person I’ve ever met or a good person stuck in an extraordinarily horrific situation.”
She shot him a pained smile. “I don’t blame you for not believing me. My friends wanted to believe the worst of me and my father. It was an education in human nature. If something is printed in a newspaper or reported in the news, it has to be true. So many people have stopped thinking for themselves, they just gobble the news up as if it can’t be tainted or scripted.”