Page 11 of Hacking His Code
A wall of windows overlooks the cityscape, creating a breathtaking view. The glass is so clear it looks like you could walk out into the world…and fall to your death.
Hunter gestures for me to take a seat on a sofa, then continues to a cabinet. To my utter horror, I realize I look like a slutty hillbilly. Serves him right for snatching me out of my apartment like he did.
He glances askance at me, holding up a bottle of expensive-looking liquor. “Pick your poison?”
“Do you treat all your guests to kidnapping and poison, or just me?”
He puts down the bottle. “You look like you enjoy a tart red.”
“Jokes on you because I can’t afford a drinking habit and have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Hunter chuckles, grinning ear to ear. “Then let me be the benefactor to your slow, downward spiral.”
He grabs a glass from a cabinet with one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. The irony that I’m about to drink a glass of wine that may very well cost more than my monthly rent while looking trailer park chic is not lost on me.
But there’s no way for me to look less bedraggled. My hair is a crazy mess, my clothes are meant for sleeping, and by the feel of it, my eyes are puffy and red. I’m a hot mess, minus the hot.
Hunter, however, is impeccably dressed in a finely tailored suit that fits like a dream. His hands are large, matching his six-foot-plus frame. I don’t think I’ve ever had a sexual fantasy about a man’s hands before, but I just might tonight.
He pours our glasses and whisks one over to me. The deep crimson liquid never seems to unsettle, no matter how grand his movements are.
His cup holds an amber-colored liquid. I can only assume it’s some fancy scotch that rich people drink, but it could be tequila for all I know. I’ve never been a drinker. Not with my workload and barren wallet.
He takes off his blazer, which proves to be distracting. His button-up shirt hugs his muscles in a way that makes me dizzy.
It’s not often I’m alone with a man as sexy as Hunter Davies. He doesn’t look how you’d expect a tech genius from the Davies family to look. He’s every kind of gorgeous whose attractiveness is only enhanced by his arrogance—which he has in spades.
He seats himself in an overstuffed chair, angling it to face me. “Let’s begin.”
I take a sip of wine, its bitter burn disallowing me from keeping a straight face.
“Jeez. That’s one of my smoother blends.”
I cough lightly. “I think I’ve had wine maybe twice before.”
His brow furrows. “Ever think about cutting loose and living a little?”
“After getting into trouble, I was terrified of stepping out of line. It’s not like my family can afford fancy lawyers like yours can.”
“And yet you were still driven to the dark web.”
If anyone else had said that, I’d feel embarrassed, ashamed even, but coming from Hunter Davies, who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, I’m able to meet his gaze with relative ease and say, “Since you’ll never have to face any real consequences for your actions, or your upbringing, I don’t think you would understand.”
“Noted…” He takes a long pull of the amber liquid, then returns his gaze to me. “You must understand that once you begin, it’s going to get intense. There’s a lot of emotion involved in this. I’m scared of what we might find out.”
“If we believe she was kidnapped, who are the suspects?”
“Everyone was looking at my aunt’s personal trainer. She had been working with him for seven months, and they apparently had a fling.”
“Casual sex is nothing. What about all the nefarious activities she was rumored to be involved in?”
He exhales morosely, and I almost regret mentioning the big fucking elephant in the cold case.
Almost.
“Although she was undoubtedly involved in some shady dealings, it’s not believed to have led to her disappearance. There was just too much confidential information lying around her apartment. It being a random guy that became obsessed with her makes a heck of a lot more sense.”
I nod. “The logic checks out.”
