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She pursed her lips. “I’d rather pay for my own protection.”
“I’ll run it past my employer, and we’ll get back to you.”
Gritting her teeth, she snatched up her purse.
“Oh, and my employer and I would like to remind you thatthe next few days will be hairy. If you could restrict your movements to your office or your home, that would be great.”
“I can’t. I have a charity thing tomorrow night.”
“Details in your diary?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then security will be taken care of.”
Deciding that asking him how would only gain her even more cryptic responses, she passed back the gizmo and alighted.
Watching him drive away, she experienced another pang. It was clear Noah had finally written her off in everything except his promise to keep her safe. She could tell him to back down and let her take care of herself, but she’d already tried that to no avail. Short of confronting him again, a prospect she didn’t think was a good idea considering how she’d left things, her only option was to let him carry on with his course of action and ask him to send her a bill afterwards.
Her lips pursed. She was 100 percent sure that wouldn’t go down well with Noah.
She’d just have to convince him when the time came.
After a quick change of clothes, Leia did a few breathing exercises and tried to immerse herself in her business day. But with each hour that passed, her nerves grew colder and tighter with apprehension.
She jumped as a text message came through at four.
Stay strong. No excuses. N.
Her breath punched out of her lungs and her eyes prickled.Unbidden, his words from Friday night in his bathroom flashed through her mind.
You’re mine. Even when I threaten to kick your ass, you will still be mine. Mine to take care of. Mine to fuck. Mine to cherish.
A tear slid out. She brushed it away. What the hell was wrong with her? And why the hell did love have to hurt so much?
Grabbing her phone, she texted:
Thanks. For everything.
She regretted her words the moment she hit send.
Groaning at her stupidity, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Thanks for everything? Really?
She was staring at her phone, wondering whether he would reply, when Warren walked in carrying a cup of tea. She remained seated behind her desk, hoping he’d stay on the other side. He set the steaming cup down in front of her and sat down.
“I thought you might need company.” He steepled his fingers and watched her over them. They’d had a tense conversation this morning when he’d demanded to know where she’d been last night. Her reply that it was none of his business had not gone down well, even though he’d merely inclined his head and returned to his office.
“Thanks, but I was hoping to get through these projections before the end of the day.” The scent of the chamomile hit her nostrils and her empty stomach heaved. “And you seem to have forgotten that I prefer jasmine to chamomile.” Was it deliberate? Because Warren wasn’t a man who forgot things like that.
“On this occasion, I thought chamomile would be better. It’s a special blend.”
Her gaze returned to the cup. She picked it up, took a tiny sip and set it back down. “There. We happy now?”
He rose and leaned over her desk. She sat back, unease stirring inside her at the gleam in his eyes. “Happy would be a false description of my present state, my dear. But I am counting on that state returning once we’re over this… hurdle.”
She was sure he meant more than the situation with her stepfather. About to reply, she stopped when her phone pinged.