Page 61 of Blackmail
Lehman leaves. Uncomfortable silence fills the space between Simon and me as we await his discharge papers.
“Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“I already told you. I was visiting someone else. I mentioned some of my clients had gone missing?”
“Right. Yeah.”
“A team we hired to search for them has found a couple. One was located while she was saving herself. She fought off two men but sustained some injuries. We came early this morning to speak with her about what happened.”
“Good for her. She’s okay?”
“She will be. Her injuries were minor. Surprisingly good spirits given what she’s been through.”
“Hmm. Good. You don’t have to stay, though.”
“Stop.” I lean in close to his ear. “I’m not leaving you to wander back home by yourself in the middle of a storm with a fever. Suggest it again and I’ll give you a spanking.”
Simon groans. “Man, I’ve got body aches. Don’t even try.” But there’s a blush across his cheeks at the suggestion. Or maybe it’s his elevated temperature. “You know, I was adulting fine before you came along.”
“I have no doubt.”
After a long staring contest I almost don’t win, Simon sighs and closes his eyes. “Whatever. I’m too fucking tired.”
A nurse brings in Simon’s medication and his paperwork. She gives me the instructions, ignoring Simon’s protest that he can handle things himself. A short while later, Lehman returns with my keys and the umbrella I asked him to bring from my car.
“Let’s blow this pop stand before we’re stuck here,” he says as he tosses them back to me. “By the way, you and I are having a serious discussion later.”
I ignore him and help Simon out of bed. He grumbles but is still woozy, so he leans on me despite resisting the idea. We manage the short walk to the parking garage in silence, and I let myself enjoy the feeling of him needing to lean on me.
Getting to the car saps his limited energy. I practically pour him into the seat. Buckling the seat belt takes him three stubborn tries. By the time we’re on the road, he’s fallen asleep again.
Which is good, because he won’t like what I have planned. I intend to keep him safe even if it makes him hate me.
Chapter
Twenty-One
SIMON
I wake up with something warm against me. I’ve got chills—most likely my body trying to bring my fever down—which makes me want to burrow against the heat at my back. Which is probably why it takes me a while to wake up fully. And longer to realize I don’t know where the fuck I am.
And that warm body behind me? Is Sebastian fucking Pierce.
“What the fuck?” I’m pretty sure we’re in a hotel room. Lord knows I’ve been in enough of them professionally to recognize the signs. The flat-screen television on the wall, the little hang tags on the water bottles, the mini fridge full of overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of booze. It’s a nice-looking place too. Roomy, with comfortable but minimalist-looking furniture. I see the sun setting over a glittering lake when I drag myself over to the window.
The weather has broken for a little while. This is nice but deceptive. The storms rage hardest sometimes in the middle of the night.
“Good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“A little like I got kidnapped.” I turn with narrowed eyes, but the chattering of my teeth somewhat mutes my attempt at a death glare.
“You need a hot shower.” Before I can protest, he’s out of bed and into the bathroom.
I try not to notice that he’s again wearing nothing but a skintight pair of black boxer briefs, or the way every muscle in his legs flexes with every step he takes. Or that his happy trail and his five o’clock shadow are the stuff of fantasies.
Oh, let’s face it, that ship has sailed. I follow him with sluggish steps like the sick, dutiful puppy I am.
Which… “Holy shit, that shower is bigger than my apartment.” The entire bathroom is decked out in a shimmering blue tile that screams that it was imported from somewhere. The floor is warm under my feet, suggesting some heating elements underneath. These are definitely not budget accommodations.
