Page 18 of An Enchanted Spring

“Stay here,” he commanded. “Cian, good timing, as ever.”

“You left your purse,” the driver explained. He held her purse in one hand and a dagger in the other.

What the hell?

She glanced into her apartment again, her heart in her throat. The entire thing had been turned upside down; every drawer in her tiny kitchen had been pulled and emptied on the floor. Remnants of her breakfast bowl lay amongst the trash, which had also been emptied, and a knife protruded from the middle of her kitchen table. The cushions to hercouch were gone and her television was smashed into thousands of pieces all over the floor.

Cian took Aidan’s place in front of her as Aidan went straight to her bedroom; the door was wide open. She glimpsed her clothes all over the floor, and gasped when her eyes landed on her bed. Someone had taken a knife to it; the sheets were shredded and there was a gash in the mattress where the springs were showing.

A moment later, Aidan came out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him and sheathing the dagger in his boot. “’Tis safe. No one is here.” Cian stepped away from her, and she didn’t even bother to move.

“Your day is not enviable,” Aidan finally said, looking around. He frowned, then yanked the knife from the center of the kitchen table and pulled the note from the blade.

“I’m back. You have two days to get me more money,” he read.

Emma’s mind spun. Everything—her money, her job, all her possessions—was lost.

Where, exactly, was she supposed to come up with more money? And when did Ben get out of jail?

She shook her head once, then covered her face. She didn’t bother to stem the tears as they fell through her fingers.

Chapter 4

Aidan thanked the policeman as he left the hotel suite, and glanced with concern at Emma. She sat on the sofa, toying with her necklace, and stared blankly at the gas fireplace in the wall.

“His parole officer promised me he’d call if Ben was up for early release,” Emma said to no one in particular. “He promised. Swore it, even.”

Aidan silently sat down in the armchair directly across from her and steepled his hands against his chin.

“Because Ben had made direct threats against my life,” she added, her eyes rooted to the flames as they danced. “I guess I didn’t think he’d try to ruin me first. If he had the power to take all my money, why didn’t he just do that and disappear? Why does he have to come after me like this?”

“Some men—and I hesitate to use that label in association with your ex—enjoy the feeling of power.”

Her eyes swung to Aidan’s. “He wasn’t like this when we were together.”

Aidan didn’t respond.

She continued, her voice hollow. “I’ve lost everything. First he took my money, then he ended my career.” She metAidan’s eyes, her own haunted. “And now he’s taken my safety.”

Aidan’s chest constricted. “He has not, Emmaline. Not if you don’t allow it.”

She laughed incredulously. “Allow it? All I want is to be free of him. But there’s no escape. I think he proved that rather effectively, don’t you?” She jerked her head toward the door where the policeman had exited. “I don’t even have a place to live right now. I don’t know where he is, or what his next move will be. Don’t you see?” She choked on a sob. “He holds all the cards!”

Aidan hated the stark desolation in her voice. The woman was twisting him in knots, and despite having known her for less than a day, his gut told him she needed protection—but that she wouldn’t readily accept it.

What disturbed him more than having gut feelings about a woman was that he had a deep and primitive need to be the one to protect her.

“He doesn’t holdallthe cards,” Aidan replied carefully. “I still need you. Tonight.”

The blatant sensualityin his words jolted Emma from her dark place. She blinked, then realized Aidan was talking about the auction.

“I don’t think I’m the right person for this,” she faltered. Her brain was on overload—was it really only this morning that her boss had fired her? And then her apartment…it was a strange kind of relief that Aidan had been with her when she’d discovered it. He took charge, giving her the space she needed to process the events—without being asked. He ensured her safety, filed the police reports, and made her eat something.

It was a nice feeling to be mother-henned over.

But that couldn’t last. The thought of cleaning up her apartment exhausted her, and angered her—which gave her enough of a reality check to acknowledge that she couldn’t rely on this man’s hospitality, no matter how freely it was offered. She’d done that once before, and look where that had landed her.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Aidan offered. “New contract. Same terms as before, but you get the commission—not the firm. You go to the auction and obtain the relics with me. Then, you stay here until I can have your apartment cleaned up. And change your locks,” he added darkly. “Definitely change your locks…maybe add a couple more.”

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