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“The president.” She stopped and sat for a moment as though really surprised she’d answered him.
It was an old trick. Speak rapidly. Ask a few emotionally packed questions but leave no time for the subject to reply. Then ask the whopper. The tactic threw many off balance and they simply answered the first moment he gave them an opening. And they usually blurted the truth.
So she was after Zack. He should have known that. In her world, Zack would be the ultimate prey. How much did she want Zack’s head on her mantel? She might not eat meat, but in his book that made her a predator.
br /> “So you don’t approve of the president. Why are you investigating him?”
She shrugged and went back to her waffle. “He’s the president. I run a political blog. I’m always investigating him.”
“Political blog? Isn’t that overstating it a little? You run one of the most salacious gossip sites on the Internet. What are you looking into? The size of his dick again?”
She pushed away from the table. All of her joy had fled and the shadows from the night before were back. “Is Connor your first or last name?”
“Why?” He shouldn’t engage her. He knew damn well he should press on with his questions. Never let the subject get the upper hand, but the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Because I’d like to use your last name when we talk. It puts more distance between us.” She was obviously trying to be cool, professional. The sheen of tears in her eyes and the way her hands trembled gave her away.
“It’s my last name,” he lied smoothly. “My first name is Spencer.”
Spencer Connor. It was a horrible name, but he’d given it to her father so he had to go with it. Now he was glad because the last thing he wanted was to hear her call him by a name that wasn’t his. He liked the way she said Connor. Even when she was mad at him.
She pushed back from the table. “Well, Connor, I think I’m done with our arrangement. I’ll stay with my father until this is over. I’m not going to sit here and allow you to bully me. You’re mean. Maybe other women would let you tear them apart because they think you’re hot and society lets assholes like you get away with anything, but I don’t play by those rules. I’ll go pack and you can decide if you’re going to be civil enough to drop me off in Arlington or if our association ends here.” She turned and started to walk out.
He reached out and gripped her elbow. “I wasn’t done. I need to figure out who’s trying to kill you. Would you rather I was polite and kind and simply let them shoot you?”
Her mouth trembled as she looked down at him. “I would rather you not take out whatever is bothering you on me. I haven’t done anything to you and yet you’re trying to tear me up.”
“I’m questioning you.”
She shook her head. “It’s more than that. I’ve done nothing but trust you and let you into my home, but it feels as though you resent me.”
So she saw way more than he’d expected her to. She was so soft, so bubbly that he’d really believed he could break her down. It was what he did. He drove a subject past their endurance or tolerance, then built him or her back up to his liking. He’d been treating Lara like an enemy combatant, and she was having none of it.
He released her arm and she strode away, slamming the bedroom door behind her. She might be naive but she had more backbone than he’d given her credit for. Once again, she’d gone straight to the heart of the issue with no prevarication. He did resent her in that moment because he hated anything that made him feel. Sometimes he even hated his friends.
He remembered vividly standing in the Crawford building in the middle of Manhattan, dark enveloping him, his hands covered in blood. He’d killed and killed that night in an attempt to keep Gabe Bond and his girlfriend safe. He’d looked at the pair, over what seemed like an ocean of bodies between them, and he’d known that he would never have what Gabe had. No woman would ever look at him as if he was the sun in her sky. He wasn’t a blessed American prince like the rest of the Perfect Gentlemen.
He was the monster who protected them. He bought his way into their world with blood.
He’d looked over and seen the horror in Gabe’s eyes that night. He’d seen how quickly his friend had hustled Everly out, as though he couldn’t stand to have his beloved in the same room with such an animal.
He didn’t hate Lara, but she damn sure reminded him of everything he couldn’t have. He’d gotten his wealth in a way she would think indecent. He could offer her a view of the Upper West Side to die for, his lonely mansion outside of Langley, a flat in London’s Chelsea that not even his friends knew about. He had millions at his fingertips, but like the rest of what he owned, every cent had someone’s blood on it.
She was a fairy princess who’d figured out that she had invited the beast to her breakfast table. And she was a smart princess since she had enough sense to run away.
His cell phone trilled and he looked down. Dax. The man always had the best timing. He ran his finger over the screen. “Yes.”
“Hey, I’ve got some information on your girl. It looks like she came up to New York during the week Deep Throat was meeting with Everly. I can’t track all her movements, but I think we can assume she’s involved with him. I think we have to look into whether or not she’s actually pulling his strings and not the other way around.”
The thought was laughable. “She’s not a mastermind, Dax. She’s running after a story and I’m a little worried this asshole is going to box her in the same situation he did Everly. I want to find the little fucker. He damn near got her killed yesterday.”
Despite his interrogation, he was certain the incident the previous day was about whatever muck she’d stepped into while fact-finding for her blog. What she did was dangerous. The men and women she reported about were some of the world’s most powerful people. To think they would simply let Lara publish dirt on them without penalty was foolish, but then he had no proof otherwise that she was anything but. Tilting at windmills. That’s what she was doing. The windmill was about to knock her out, and if he allowed her to push him away, she would have no one to protect her. No one understood the true situation the way he did.
Sure, she could stay at her dad’s for a day or two, but then things would quiet down and she would get bored. She would tell herself that one little trip outside wouldn’t hurt.
Bam. Just like that she would be dead.
He really didn’t like his vision of her gone and cold. It twisted his insides.
“You sound like you care,” Dax said quietly.
“I care about the case and I care about the fact that she seems to think she has something on Zack.” He kept his voice low, moving into the kitchen.
“What? Is it about the nanny? Deep Throat made Everly believe that Lara had a piece to that puzzle.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to check her office or her computer last night.”
“Why?”
“I fell asleep,” he mumbled, feeling like an idiot.
“You’re kidding me.” A low chuckle came over the line. “Did you fall asleep from sheer exhaustion? I didn’t expect you to get into her bed so fast. I have to admit, the way you described her, I kind of thought your charms wouldn’t work on her.”
Because he so rarely used charm on a woman. He didn’t have to. Not in his world. In the shadows he inhabited, power was the key. Power and practicality had gotten him into many a bed, but none of that would work with Lara. “I didn’t fuck her. I just slept with her.”
There was the longest pause.
“Damn it, Dax. Don’t fucking laugh at me. This is serious. I’m screwing this up. She’s packing to go to her father’s right now.”
“Good,” Dax said shortly. “Then you can break into her place, get the job done, and get back home. We can hire some PIs to trail her.”
It wasn’t a bad plan but Connor hated it. Logic didn’t matter. Neither did common sense. He tried to tell himself he was only thinking of the case, but his dick had taken over. He wouldn’t leave her. “She’s too important. After the attack yesterday, I don’t think we should just abandon her.”
“We? Or you?”
Fucking Dax was going to make him say it. “Me.”
Dax muttered something that sounded awfully like son of a bitch. “All right, then, brother. How bad was this fuckup?”
“I was interrogating her. Questioning her about what might have incited the attack on 2nd Street. I went too far. I might have insulted her on two or three levels.”
“Her intelligence?”
r /> “And her moral character. Probably her femininity, too. Definitely her friends. I might have implied that she likes to string men along and use them, and then I might have said something about her being a bottom-feeding tabloid reporter.”
“Jeez. You really went for it.” Another long pause. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He was sure he wanted to do her. For once in his life, he could have the princess—at least temporarily. She was wrong about the way he spoke that endearment. To him, she really was a princess. In the best way. “Yeah. I have to find out what she’s got on Zack.”
“Sure. All right, first off I’m coming down and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You need backup.”
Connor wasn’t going to argue. Having another set of eyes on her would be a good thing. “Okay. Just text me all the information you found, and I’ll start feeding you our schedule. I’m also
