Page 59 of Stella's Christmas Rescue
“Go get Stella. I’ll handle her.”
“Swap me guns. Yours is better for small spaces.” We trade, and I see the pain in his eyes when he moves. He’s busted up bad, and I don’t want her to get the drop on him. I rip the cordfrom the lamp, then tie the woman to the table. “If she moves, shoot her. If she blinks too much, shoot her.”
Michael’s eyes are glued to the shooter. “Not a problem.”
He says it with such an icy tone that I wonder what he did in Russia before he came to the U.S. No time to ask, though. I run through the courthouse and out the window, hoping I’m not too late.
20
My mouth is dry, and my body is made of lead. Simon Riker looms large in the doorway. He’s handsome still, but of course he disgusts me. Six feet even, with a volleyball player’s build. A bespoke suit (always). Shaggy yet perfect light brown hair, green eyes atop high cheekbones, and dimples when he smiles.
I hate it when he smiles.
I try to shut the door, but his shiny black wingtip stops the door. “Now, now, don’t go scuffing my shoe.”
“Move your shoe and I won’t scuff it!” This time, I slam the door on his foot as hard as I can. I want to break his foot and send him running like a little bitch, and even though I know it won’t work, I try again.
“That’s enough of that,” he catches the door on my third try, then slams it wide open. His goons are behind him, and they follow when he walks into the office. I back up, while they invade. “And here I thought we’d have to break the door down. So kind of you to let us in.”
“Why are you here, Riker? You know you’ll never get away with all this! And your assassin failed.” I back up into the wall. Nowhere else to run.
“Myassassin? She wasn’t here to kill you, Love. She was here to be a distraction and get you alone.”
“Why get me alone? Why not just have her kill me?”
“Because I want to have a chat with you before I decide what to do with you. Stella, if I had wanted you dead, then you’d be dead. Did you not notice I was sending hired hands, not hired guns to your house?”
“And why is that?”
He smiles, “I just want to have a little chat.”
“About what I want?”
“Don’t get cheeky.”
I smirk. “You used to like it when I was cheeky.”
“And you used to listen when I spoke. How things change.” He leans on the desk. “So, how are you?”
“I’m good.”
“I remember,” he says slyly. “What a shame you grew a conscience. What can I do to remove it?”
I fold my arms and glare. “Is that why you arranged this little chat? To talk about my conscience?”
“Stella, I always liked you. Even before you let me into your bed. I respected you. You’re a good businesswoman. You can do anything you set your mind to, and you did.”
I have no clue where he’s going with this. “Thank you…?”
“A good businesswoman knows how to use leverage to get what she wants. When you saw what you saw, you left without somuch as a word. You never even spoke to me about it. Instead, you ran to the police.”
“Like any normal person would,” I point out.
“You are not a normal person, Stella,” he snickers. “It was such a strange decision for a good businesswoman. And I took offense to you skipping out on me like that.”
“How is running to the police after you witness a murder strange, exactly?”
He chuckles. “You witnessed me taking care of that moron, Kowalski. His death was nothing to me, outside of a liability. But you could have leveraged that liability. You showed a significant lack of insight on the matter, and it surprised me. So uncharacteristic of you. Why?”
