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T he next morning, just as he was stepping out of the shower, Aidan opened his door to insistent banging. “What do you want, old man?”

“The bellman’s here with breakfast,” Cian said grouchily. “He won’t leave; he’s just standing there like he’s daft.”

Aidan secured the towel around his waist and sighed. “He’s waiting for his tip, you fool.” He grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and walked out, digging through to pull out a twenty-dollar bill. Handing it to the bellman, he thanked him, then walked to the door and closed it behind him.

“Good morn—oh!” Emma’s face turned scarlet, her eyes locked on his chest.

“Good morning, Emma. I trust you slept well?”

“Ah, um. Oh. Yeah. I, uh.” She licked her lips and managed to drag her eyes up to his, and she colored even darker. “I’m sorry. What?”

Aidan couldn’t resist the smug smile that crept along his face. “I asked if you slept well.”

“I do. I mean, I did, yes,” she said quickly. She averted her gaze, and it fell on the table behind him. “Is that breakfast? ”

“Aye. Are you hungry?”

She murmured something incoherent, and Aidan stifled a laugh. “I’ll just go put some clothes on. You look very refreshed today.”

She glanced down at herself and managed a real smile.

“Yes, thank you. The clothes from Neiman Marcus arrived this morning. I admit I’ve never owned anything this comfortable.

” The soft denim jeans fit her perfectly, hugging her curves in all the right places.

The long, open cashmere sweater, a deep navy blue with silver threads woven through it, flattered her already lovely figure, and the white shirt she wore accented her breasts to perfection.

She was barefoot, her red-painted toenails peeking out at him from the hem of her pants.

“Tess certainly thinks blue and silver are my colors.”

He didn’t say anything, but Cian cleared his throat meaningfully.

“I’ll pay you back for them,” Emma said.

He shook his head as he walked back to his room, calling over his shoulder, “No, you won’t. But the thought is appreciated.”

“I’m not a kept woman!” she called out after him. Then, embarrassment coloring her tone, she added, “Oh. Good morning, Cian.”

Aidan chuckled as he loped back to his room. He sobered, though, when he thought of taking her outside the relative safety of the hotel suite.

The thought made something in the vicinity of his chest burn.

“We’ll leave straight after breakfast, if you’re amenable?” Aidan remarked a few minutes later as he grabbed a roll.

She choked on her orange juice, and gratefully accepted the napkin from his outstretched hand. “Okay. I can head into the apartment and salvage what I can while you finish up at the auction house.”

“No,” he replied easily .

She didn’t fight him, and he considered it a small victory.

The silence stretched.

Finally, Emma asked, “If I wanted to stay here, would you try to force me to go with you? To Boston?”

Aidan considered for a moment. He could tell her the truth, but he didn’t want to alarm her. “No.”

She visibly relaxed. “Thank you.” Silence again. Then, “I have a condition.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee. As if that would change anything, lass. “Oh?”

“Yes. Separate hotel rooms, and I pay my own way.”

“If you prefer,” he replied casually. Absolutely not happening. He needed to keep her close; locks were easily broken. His sword, however, was not. He felt a moment’s regret for lying to her. But her safety came first.

“I admit to feeling a little lost here,” she said with a small laugh. “I haven’t had a morning off in eight years.”

“Pretend it’s a weekend,” he suggested, buttering a thick piece of toast.

“I work weekends.”

“Okay. Pretend it’s Christmas.”

“Believe it or not, I worked Christmas, too.”

He stared at her a moment, and he suddenly understood why Price’s comments to her the night before had been so upsetting. “You must have truly loved your job.”

She smiled sadly. “Not the clients, no. But I loved feeling needed, and people who do bad things always need people like me to fix their screw-ups.” She took a bite of her pancakes and swallowed, a thoughtful look crossing her features.

“I never stopped to think about how my work prevented them from ever taking responsibility for their actions.”

“That can’t be all true.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not. I worked with a lot of individuals, but I liked working the corporate clients more. I am very good at spinning words, and I have very good judgment.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“Car’s ready when you are, my laird,” Cian interrupted, joining them at the table.

“Thank you, Cian. We’ll be down shortly.”

They finished eating in silence.

While Aidan made arrangements for shipping his items at the auction house, Emma waited in line for coffee across the street.

After returning to her apartment earlier, she needed a pick-me-up.

Everything was destroyed, but nothing was stolen.

It was as though the act was done simply to frighten her.

Instead, all it did was make her angry. Thankfully, her safe was untouched, still in its hiding place.

Aidan hefted it down the stairs, and Cian loaded it in the car.

Cian sat at a table, looking for all the world as though he were reading his phone, but she knew better.

Emma glanced around the line of people in front of her.

Seven deep, and the man at the counter had a long and involved order.

She wasn’t in a rush; Aidan had said he would be about a half hour, as he had forms to complete.

“Excuse me…Miss Perkins?”

A tall man stood next to her, his long dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck.

It didn’t fit with the suit he wore; he reminded her of a Wall Street finance professional gone rogue.

He had a small beard, just enough to be called one, and his blue eyes were very dark, the irises rimmed with black.

He said in a quiet voice, “We were told that you had money for us. I’m here to collect it. ”

Emma stared at him in shock for a full minute before realizing the line was moving. She moved up, hoping Cian could see her around the coffee display that blocked her and the man from view .

“I’m sorry, Mr.…?”

“We know you bought a whole lot of stuff last night at a pricey auction,” he replied, ignoring her. His tone was clipped. “He told us he gave you two days to get the money, but we don’t think you need that much time.”

“I, uh—” Her mind went blank, fear threatening to swallow her whole.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten the state of your home, Miss Perkins. I would hate to see something worse happen to you.”

She blanched.

“The money, Miss Perkins. Bring it back to your apartment within the hour. Leave it on the floor, and you and your new boyfriend won’t be hurt this time. We’ll give you three minutes to get out of the apartment before we take it.”

“Leave me out of this,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not my call to make. On the floor, Miss Perkins,” he repeated in a low voice. “I suggest you revisit your apartment— again— and take a hard look. That will provide a good indicator of your life until I get the money your fiancé owes me.”

Ex-fiancé , she corrected mentally. She sucked in her breath, and he turned on his heel and swiftly exited the coffee shop.

Beverage forgotten, Emma started shaking. Her heart pounding, she tried to see if the man—or Ben—was standing outside the building, but there were so many people on the sidewalk, either could’ve concealed himself easily.

“Excuse me?”

She shrieked, causing people to turn and stare.

An older woman stepped back, affronted. “I just wanted to know if you were in line!” she explained indignantly. With a “hmph,” the woman walked away.

Panicked, Emma fled the shop and ran across the street, almost colliding with an oncoming car. She pushed open the doors to the auction house and sprinted to the reception desk .

“Ma’am?” the security guard asked as he half rose from his chair.

“I have to go to your shipment room,” she gasped out, her heart slamming into her chest as she heard the doors behind her open. She didn’t look back for fear of seeing the man from the coffee shop. “Please, right away, it’s an emergency.”

“I’m sorry, but that room is occupied at the moment. What’s the nature of the emergency?” he asked.

Before she could answer, a hand landed on her arm and she spun around, a scream catching in her throat.

“Ms. Perkins, who was that?” Cian steadied her. “In the shop, the man. Who was it?”

“I have to talk to Aidan right away!”

Cian’s bushy white eyebrows drew together in concern. “About what, lass?”

“The man from the coffee shop.” Aware that she looked like a madwoman, she tried to slow her breathing. “Did you see him?”

“Aye. Tall fellow with the hat. I saw him leave, but I didn’t see him speak with you.

” He frowned. “He waited until you were out of my sight. He probably knew I was there with you.” Cian nodded once to the security guard.

“Come with me, lass. Aidan will be out in a moment. Until then, you can stay with me, in the car.”

She allowed Cian to escort her back outside. She attempted to see if the man was still watching her from somewhere, but there were just too many people. Cian helped her into the car before getting in the driver’s seat. He locked the doors. “Tell me what happened.”

She related the events to him as he drove them around the block. His kind eyes flicked to hers in the rearview mirror more than once, his concern evident.

“Do ye think he was the man who sacked your apartment?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “He knew I was there this morning. Said I should go there again and take a look at what my future would be like if I didn’t give him that sword Aidan wanted so badly last night.”