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“And the leather seats in your Jaguar are now completely shredded,” Mike told him heavily.
Casper stilled. “Were any of the other vehicles you’re working on right now also damaged?”
“No, just the Jag.”
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! So, it really was a personal vendetta, and it was showing no signs of stopping. As if Casper needed this right now, on top of everything else that was happening. “Are you and Rachel okay?”
“We’re both fine,” Mike assured. “It obviously happened sometime after we left yesterday evening and before I came in at six this morning to finish the paint job on the Maserati. Rachel hasn’t come in yet. I’ve already called the police, and they’re on their way.”
“So am I,” Casper said grimly. “I’ll— We’ll be with you,” Casper corrected when Persy gave him a pointed look from beneath raised brows, “in about an hour. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mike confirmed before ringing off.
“Has your vindictive ex struck again?” Persy prompted as Casper threw his cell phone onto the couch.
Casper scowled across at her. “As I’ve never had a relationship before this one with you, there aren’t any exes to strike again.”
* * *
Did we have a relationship, Persy wondered?
She blushed, remembering the intimacies they’d shared the previous night. The pleasure they had each given and received. But did that amount to a relationship?
She had no idea what it was and now wasn’t the time to delve into the subject. “Disgruntled ex-lover, then,” she amended.
“I don’t have any of those either.”
“Just one-night stands.”
“Yes.”
She huffed. “No wonder you think we have a relationship.”
“I don’t think, I know.”
Persy avoided his gaze. “Why did Mike call?”
Casper’s nostrils flared. “Someone broke into his workshop last night and shredded the leather interior of my car. Which, as you know, was probably the only thing not already damaged in the crash,” he added wryly.
Persy instantly transitioned into work mode. To be honest, this intimate situation with Casper was so alien to her, she was relieved to be able to concentrate on something else. “Security cameras?”
“I don’t know any of the details,” he dismissed. “Only that the police are on their way to the workshop and, once we’ve showered, so are we.”
Persy was relieved at the distraction. Not the knowledge there had been further damage to Casper’s car, obviously. But that something had happened to delay the necessity for the two of them to have a postmortem about the previous night. For Casper to tell her it had all been a mistake and he didn’t do relationships.
Except he seemed to be saying the opposite.
Last night hadn’t been a mistake as far as she was concerned either. But it was definitely out of character.
She’d had only two lovers before Casper, and neither of them had lasted longer than a few weeks. It was difficult to sustain any sort of relationship when you were both in the army but in different units, either of which could be deployed to God knows where at any moment.
Civilian life was easier, of course, but probably not if you were sleeping with one of your bosses. It raised the question as to whether or not Persy should or could continue to work for Kingston Security. No doubt once Sinclair had time to consider the situation, he would have questions on that subject.
“Stop thinking so much.” Casper tapped her playfully on the nose.
She blinked at finding he had crossed the room to stand in front of her. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t realized he’d moved until he touched her.
Her gaze dropped to where she could see the beginning of the dark chest hair visible above his tied robe. “We should shower and dress. Separately,” she added pointedly. “Unless you need help showering?” She frowned as she realized Casper hadn’t yet resumed wearing his sling.
