Page 43 of Blood Stone

3inter glanced out the heavily smoked windows of the limousine. “Your hotel in about three minutes,” she judged, and looked down at the tablet once more. “I’ll have certified copies of the contract made and distributed to all the stakeholders, and Patrick Sauvage’s contract, too.”

MacDonald lifted his head. “You’ve already signed a contract with Sauvage?”

“You were busy with Kate Lindenstream stuff. I handled it,” Garrett told him dismissively.

MacDonald frowned. “Who did you get to draft it?” he asked. “These Hollywood types love to squelch. If you don’t have an absolutely waterproof deal—”

“It’s fine, Tom,” Garrett told him shortly. “Forget it.”

MacDonald tapped the edge of his screen with the wide ring on his wasted finger, considering. “Alright,” he agreed, and went back to work.

Garrett let out a sigh and let his mind turn back again to Kate’s parting words.You fucked me over good and proper.

Even though he had been braced for her fury, the bitterness pouring from her had still left him feeling uncomfortable. The expression in her eyes had been bleak, and her pointed chin had been held stiff and unresponsive. He had wanted to send her a message afterwards, to try to erase some of the negativity. None of this was supposed to impact so badly upon her, but trying to explain that was out of the question.

For now, anyway.

“Garrett,” Winter prompted.

He looked at her.

“I’ll sort all this out and I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, yes?”

The car was pulling up under the hotel portico. He had been lost in thought.

He stirred and reached for the door handle, but the hotel valet beat him to it. The door opened, pulling in heat and light. Garrett winced. “Seven thirty,” he agreed.

“She’ll be fine, Garrett,” Winter added.

He glanced back at Winter. She sat in the corner with her legs crossed, looking effortlessly efficient, composed and calm.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Kate Lindenstream. You’re worried about her. But there’s no need.”

Garrett pulled out his sunglasses and pushed them on. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he told her and shut the door on her.

That was another reason he’d never used personal assistants until Nial had foisted his wife upon him as a means to insert his own people onto the set. Personal assistants ended up becomingtoopersonal.

* * * * *

Winter had the limousine drop MacDonald off first, then she could be dropped at her hotel without complications. She breathed a sigh of relief when MacDonald was gone. The long, thin man made her feel uncomfortable although she had no idea why.

As the limousine drew closer to the hotel, she was aware of a building tension in her. She could have reached inside and smoothed it away, but that would have meant dealing with the subject matter that was causing it, and for right now she was afraid to touch the subject.

So she sat on the bench, her tension winding slowly tighter the closer she got to her temporary home.

By the time she walked through the lobby, carefully not catching anyone’s eye, and slumping to make herself look thick around the waist and as unattractive as possible, she was trembling with the effort to hold it all inside her.

The elevator ride seemed endless, even though no one stepped on or off the elevator and she miraculously got the car all to herself. It was mid-afternoon and quiet.

Sebastian was working on his computer when she stepped into the suite, and Nial was on the phone. Nial was always on the phone these days.

Sebastian rose to his feet as soon as he saw her. “What happened?” he demanded sharply.

Winter held up her hand, telling him silently to halt as he headed in her direction. Her hand was shaking, she saw. It was all going to come out of her. It was rising like noxious yeast.

Nial turned at Sebastian’s tone, looked at her, and said into his phone “I’ll call you back,” and switched it off. He threw the phone onto the seat of the big armchair. He didn’t come closer to her, but his gaze ran the length of her, assessing carefully. “You’re not hurt and you haven’t been since you left this morning.”