Page 29 of The Billionaire's Claim: Redemption
“My cousin—her son—used to work at my company until yesterday, when he quit. She’s upset that I cost him his job somehow.”
Elizabeth turns paler. Her skin’s so white that her eyes almost look black by comparison. “Your cousin…”
“Andy. You and he met before.” I search her face for any signs of recognition.
“Andy…” She repeats the name in a dazed whisper, then takes a small step backward. She almost stumbles, her knees folding under her. I leap forward and catch her before she hits the sand, my arm around her waist.
“Eli—Liza. Are you okay?”
“Andy…” she repeats.
“Right,” I say, at a loss.
She closes her eyes as though she can’t process it anymore.
Her reaction is alarming. Why is she so freaked out about Andy? She doesn’t remember him. And even if she did, why would she be unnerved like this? She only knew him as Chuck Brown’s son—she and her family donate heavily to his campaigns. Given Aunt Dorothy’s ambition and survival instincts, Andy had to have been a hundred percent polite and courteous to Elizabeth.
But she acted oddly when I introduced her to Andy back in Hawaii, and he seemed puzzled by it.
“Elizabeth, did Andy do something to offend you?” I ask. Maybe her attacker in St. Cecilia was named Andy… Maybe her subconscious mind remembers the significance of the name…
She stares at me, her eyes wide and unblinking. Terror fleets through her gaze like dark clouds crossing the sky.
“Elizabeth, do you know someone named Andy? Someone who may have hurt you?”
“I…” She licks her lips. “I…I have to…” Her eyes dart to the sand and the water and the sunny sky before returning to mine. “I…I’m fine.” She stops clinging to me and stands up. “I’m fine. Thanks for catching me, Dominic.”
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth
I stumble inside, then grab a bottle of vodka and glass from the wet bar and go upstairs to the studio. It’s only after I shut the door that I realize I’m still in my skimpy bikini. I put it on with a vague plan to seduce Dominic, but all thoughts of sex are gone now.
Quickly, I drink a shot of vodka, then run to the bedroom, grab the first wrap dress I see in the closet and put that on over the bikini.
Andy.
The name sends such terror through me, leaving me chilled to the core. My hands shake, and I clench them, refusing to be weak. I’m on an island. How’s he going to get here without me knowing?
Nobody can be here without me and Dominic’s knowledge.
Dominic enters the room. “Are you all right?”
I nod jerkily.
He cradles my cheek, his palm warm against my cool skin. I grip it hard, not wanting to lose this physical contact. He inhales sharply, but I’m too desperate for comfort to care.
“Liza—”
“Just a little bit longer,” I whisper, my numb lips making it hard to talk.
“Hey…” He pulls me close, enveloping me in his arms, lending me his warmth and strength. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
“I know.” I lick my dry mouth. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”
I’m terrible at taking care of myself. I lose weight that I shouldn’t. I reach for a drink when I have trouble rather than trying to think things through. It’s a miracle I’m not an alcoholic. Aren’t lives full of problems? Problem solving, you’re doing it wrong. I could be one of those memes.
I let Dominic hold me a bit longer even though I’m still stinging from the earlier rejection. I know he doesn’t want to sleep with me for some reason. A man doesn’t have to hit me in the head repeatedly before I get it. It clearly has nothing to do with physical inability or anything, because I felt his erection pushing against me. And the excuse about an “injury” was ridiculous.
