34
Blaise
Iwake up from a fitful sleep, disoriented.
I glance around my room. Moonlight pours in through the skylight.
I’m home. God, I love the sound of that. Home.
“Blaise, baby, you’re awake.”
I turn in the direction of the chair tucked in the corner of the room. Moonlight doesn’t hit that spot. The spot is shrouded in darkness.
I sit.
The sheet falls from my nakedness.
“You undressed me.”
“Guilty.” Said with no guilt whatsoever. More like he took pleasure in stripping me of my clothes. His voice is soft as crushed velvet, stroking me from head to toe.
“Come here, Maddox.” I crook my finger.
Much to my surprise, he refuses.
“No can do, baby.”
“How come?”
“I’m not in the best shape, babe. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry? Not in the best shape? With the muscles lining his body, he’s in great shape.
“What time is it?”
My gut clenches. Why do I have the suspicion I missed something big? That he wasn’t here the entire time I was asleep?
“Three in the morning.”
I suck in a breath. “Hale. He’ll be at the guesthouse by now. He’ll see I’m not there and hurt Shandy.”
“No need worrying about the good-for-nothing bastard. Or for Shandy. Roland and the team found her, Blaise. They located the restaurant. A new building replaced the one ruined by fire. What didn’t get replaced is the old wine cellar hidden in a compartment in the flooring. Those men put their ears to the walls and the floor and listened like their lives depended on it. They heard Shandy pounding on the cellar with her cell phone. It’s got one of those indestructible cases. Lucky girl.”
So lucky she should go out and buy a lottery ticket.
“How’d you find the restaurant?”
“Our bastard was dumb enough to list himself as co-owner. Brady Fitzpatrick. His business partner is Chance Flanagan. Does the name sound familiar?”
“He works for Rylan. He introduced himself, and I thought it was cool that he’s Irish and has the name Chance. Do things happen by chance or luck?”
Maddox chuckles. “Of course you would wonder, love.”
Love.
“I like ‘love.’”
“Better than babe or baby?”